‘To coffee some retreat to save their pockets,Others, more generous, damn the play at Locket’s;But there, I hope, the author’s fears are vain,Malice ne’er spoke in generous Champain.’[296]
‘To coffee some retreat to save their pockets,Others, more generous, damn the play at Locket’s;But there, I hope, the author’s fears are vain,Malice ne’er spoke in generous Champain.’[296]
‘To coffee some retreat to save their pockets,Others, more generous, damn the play at Locket’s;But there, I hope, the author’s fears are vain,Malice ne’er spoke in generous Champain.’[296]
‘To coffee some retreat to save their pockets,
Others, more generous, damn the play at Locket’s;
But there, I hope, the author’s fears are vain,
Malice ne’er spoke in generous Champain.’[296]
Further, he makes Benjamin Wouldbe exclaim:
‘Show me that proud stoick that can bear success and Champain; philosophy can support us in hard fortune, but who can have patience in prosperity?’[297]
Farquhar shows his usual keen observation of the minutest features of the life of his day in hisallusion to the flask—the pear-shapedflaconin which Champagne made itsentréeinto fashionable life.[298]Archer, in his ditty on ‘trifles,’ thus warbles:
‘A flask of Champaign, people think itA trifle, or something as bad;But if you’ll contrive how to drink it,You’ll find it no trifle, egad!’[299]
‘A flask of Champaign, people think itA trifle, or something as bad;But if you’ll contrive how to drink it,You’ll find it no trifle, egad!’[299]
‘A flask of Champaign, people think itA trifle, or something as bad;But if you’ll contrive how to drink it,You’ll find it no trifle, egad!’[299]
‘A flask of Champaign, people think it
A trifle, or something as bad;
But if you’ll contrive how to drink it,
You’ll find it no trifle, egad!’[299]
Congreve, in evident reference to the still wine, thus writes to Mr. Porter, husband of the celebrated actress, from Calais, August 11, 1700:
‘Here is admirable Champaign for twelvepence a quart, as good Burgundy for fifteenpence; and yet I have virtue enough to resolve to leave this place to-morrow for St. Omers, where the same wine is half as dear again, and may be not quite so good.’[300]
Champagne suffered like other French wines from the War of Succession and the Methuen Treaty, by which the Government strove to pour Port wine down the throats of the people. The poets and satirists, supported by Dean Aldrich, ‘the Apostle of Bacchus;’ the miserly Dr. Ratcliffe, who ascribed all diseases to the lack of French wines, and imputed the badness of the vintages he was wont to place upon his table to the difficulty he experienced in obtaining them; the jovial Portman Seymour; the rich ‘smell-feast’ Pereira and General Churchill, Marlborough’s brother, together with a host of ‘bottle companions,’ lawyers, and physicians, united to fight against this attempt.[301]They would drink their old favourites, in spite of treaties, and would praise them as they deserved; and means were found to gratify their wishes. According to official returns, the nominal importation of French wines fell in 1701 to a trifle over two thousand tons; and though this quantity was only once exceeded up to 1786, the influence of a steady demand, a short sea-passage, an extensive coast-line, and a ridiculously inefficient preventive service in aid of the high duty need to be taken into consideration. The contraband traders of the beginning of the century smuggled French wine into England, just as they continued to do at a later period into Scotland and Ireland, when the taste for ardent spirits which sprang up in the Georgian era rendered the surreptitious import of ‘Nantz’ and ‘Geneva’ the more profitable transaction as regarded England. Farquhar throws light on one method pursued when Colonel Standard hands Alderman Smuggler his pocket-book, which he had dropped, with the remark:
‘It contains an account of some secret practices in your merchandising, amongst the rest, the counterpart of an agreement with a correspondent at Bordeaux about transporting French wine in Spanish casks.’[302]
That the Champenois were themselves aware of the appreciation in which their wine was held in England is shown by a passage in Coffin’sCampania vindicata. Writing in 1712, the year before the ratification of the Treaty of Utrecht, he calls on the Britons in presence of returning peace to cross the seas, and instead of lavishing their wealth to pleasure blood-stained Mars, to fill their ships with the treasures of the Remois Bacchus, and bear home these precious spoils instead of fatal trophies.[303]
Addison, referring to one source whence French wines were derived, remarks:
‘There is in this City a certain fraternity of Chymical Operators who work underground, in holes, caverns, and dark retirements, to conceal their mysteries from the eyes and observation of mankind. These subterraneous Philosophers are daily employed in the Transmigration of Liquors, and, by the power of Magical Drugs and Incantations, raise under the streets ofLondonthe choicest products of the hills and valleys ofFrance. They can squeezeBourdeauxout of aSloe, and drawChampagnefrom anApple.’[304]
He tells us that
‘the person who appeared against them was a Merchant, who had by him a great magazine of wines, that he had laid in before the war: but these Gentlemen (as he said) had so vitiated the nation’s palate, that no man could believe his to beFrench, because it did not taste like what they sold for such.’
For the defence it was urged that
‘they were under a necessity of making Claret if they would keep open their doors, it being the nature of Mankind to love everything that is Prohibited.’[305]
The enquiry,
‘And where would your beaux have Champaign to toast their mistresses were it not for the merchant?’[306]
is from a panegyrist of the more legitimate school of trade.
Altogether it is tolerably certain that Champagne—genuine or fictitious, from grape or gooseberry—played a more important part in the conviviality of the early portion of the eighteenth century than might be supposed from the imports of the epoch, whilst there is little doubt but that it helped to inspire some of the finest productions of the Augustan age of English literature.
Gay places it first amongst the wines offered to a party of guests entering a tavern, making the drawer exclaim:
‘Name, sirs, the wine that most invites your taste,Champaign or Burgundy, or Florence pure,Or Hock antique, or Lisbon new or old,Bourdeaux, or neat French wine, or Alicant.’[307]
‘Name, sirs, the wine that most invites your taste,Champaign or Burgundy, or Florence pure,Or Hock antique, or Lisbon new or old,Bourdeaux, or neat French wine, or Alicant.’[307]
‘Name, sirs, the wine that most invites your taste,Champaign or Burgundy, or Florence pure,Or Hock antique, or Lisbon new or old,Bourdeaux, or neat French wine, or Alicant.’[307]
‘Name, sirs, the wine that most invites your taste,
Champaign or Burgundy, or Florence pure,
Or Hock antique, or Lisbon new or old,
Bourdeaux, or neat French wine, or Alicant.’[307]
This reference to Champagne most likely relates to the still wine; but it is probably the sparkling variety which is alluded to in the verses which Gay addressed to Pope on the completion of theIliadin 1720, and wherein he represents General Wilkinson thus apostrophising as the ship conveying the poet passes Greenwich:
‘Come in, my friends, here shall ye dine and lie;And here shall breakfast and shall dine again,And sup and breakfast on (if ye comply),For I have still some dozens of Champaign.’[308]
‘Come in, my friends, here shall ye dine and lie;And here shall breakfast and shall dine again,And sup and breakfast on (if ye comply),For I have still some dozens of Champaign.’[308]
‘Come in, my friends, here shall ye dine and lie;And here shall breakfast and shall dine again,And sup and breakfast on (if ye comply),For I have still some dozens of Champaign.’[308]
‘Come in, my friends, here shall ye dine and lie;
And here shall breakfast and shall dine again,
And sup and breakfast on (if ye comply),
For I have still some dozens of Champaign.’[308]
Witty Mat Prior, poet and diplomatist, was always ready to manifest his contempt for the heavy fluid with which the Methuen treaty deluged our island in place of the light fresh-tasting wines of France that had cheered and inspired his earlier sallies. Writing whilst in custody on a charge of treason between 1715 and 1717, and referring to the mind under the name of Alma, he tells us how
‘By nerves about our palate placed,She likewise judges of the taste,Else (dismal thought!) our warlike menMight drink thick Port for fine Champagne.’[309]
‘By nerves about our palate placed,She likewise judges of the taste,Else (dismal thought!) our warlike menMight drink thick Port for fine Champagne.’[309]
‘By nerves about our palate placed,She likewise judges of the taste,Else (dismal thought!) our warlike menMight drink thick Port for fine Champagne.’[309]
‘By nerves about our palate placed,
She likewise judges of the taste,
Else (dismal thought!) our warlike men
Might drink thick Port for fine Champagne.’[309]
He likewise inculcates a lesson of philosophy, especially suited to his own situation at that moment, when he remarks of fortune:
‘I know we must both fortunes try,And bear our evils, wet or dry.Yet, let the goddess smile or frown,Bread we shall eat, or white or brown;And in a cottage or a courtDrink fine Champagne or muddled Port.’[310]
‘I know we must both fortunes try,And bear our evils, wet or dry.Yet, let the goddess smile or frown,Bread we shall eat, or white or brown;And in a cottage or a courtDrink fine Champagne or muddled Port.’[310]
‘I know we must both fortunes try,And bear our evils, wet or dry.Yet, let the goddess smile or frown,Bread we shall eat, or white or brown;And in a cottage or a courtDrink fine Champagne or muddled Port.’[310]
‘I know we must both fortunes try,
And bear our evils, wet or dry.
Yet, let the goddess smile or frown,
Bread we shall eat, or white or brown;
And in a cottage or a court
Drink fine Champagne or muddled Port.’[310]
There were many, no doubt, ready to emulate the hero of one of his minor pieces, and
‘from this world to retreatAs full of Champagne as an egg’s full of meat.’[311]
‘from this world to retreatAs full of Champagne as an egg’s full of meat.’[311]
‘from this world to retreatAs full of Champagne as an egg’s full of meat.’[311]
‘from this world to retreat
As full of Champagne as an egg’s full of meat.’[311]
Shenstone gives expression to much the same sentiment as Prior when he found ‘his warmest welcome at an inn,’ and wrote on the window-pane at Henley:
‘’Tis here with boundless power I reign,And every health which I beginConverts dull Port to bright Champagne;Such freedom crowns it at an inn.’[312]
‘’Tis here with boundless power I reign,And every health which I beginConverts dull Port to bright Champagne;Such freedom crowns it at an inn.’[312]
‘’Tis here with boundless power I reign,And every health which I beginConverts dull Port to bright Champagne;Such freedom crowns it at an inn.’[312]
‘’Tis here with boundless power I reign,
And every health which I begin
Converts dull Port to bright Champagne;
Such freedom crowns it at an inn.’[312]
Vanbrugh, Assisted by Champagne
Vanbrugh, whose writings were of a decidedly lighter character than the edifices he erected, probably had recourse to Champagne to assist him in the composition of the former, and neglected it when planning the designs for the latter. These, indeed, would seem to have been conceived underthe influence of some such ‘heavy muddy stuff’ as the ‘Norfolk nog,’ which Lady Headpiece reproaches her husband for allowing their son and heir to indulge in, saying:
‘Well, I wonder, Sir Francis, you will encourage that lad to swill such beastly lubberly liquor. If it were Burgundy or Champaign, something might be said for’t; they’d perhaps give him some art and spirit.’[313]
Swift has given in hisJournal to Stellaextensive information as to the wines in vogue in London in 1710–13. He seems for his own part to have been, as far as nature permitted him, an accommodating toper, indulging, in addition to Champagne, in Tokay, Portugal, Florence, Burgundy, Hermitage, ‘Irish wine,’i.e.Claret, ‘right French wine,’ Congreve’s ‘nasty white wine’ that gave him the heartburn, and Sir William Read’s ‘admirable punch.’ He acknowledges that the more fashionable beverages of the day were not to his taste. ‘I love,’ writes he, ‘white Portugal wine better than Claret, Champaign, or Burgundy. I have a sad vulgar appetite.’[314]Still, while observing due moderation, he did not entirely shun the lighter potations with which the table of the luxurious and licentious St. John was so freely supplied. On one occasion he writes:
‘I dined to-day by appointment with Lord Bolingbroke; but they fell to drinking so many Spanish healths in Champaign, that I stole away to the ladies and drank tea till eight.’[315]
And on another we find him refusing to allow his host to
‘drink one drop of Champaign or Burgundy without water.’[316]
Our countrymen do not appear to have taken heed of the controversy regarding the respective merits of Champagne and Burgundy, but thankfully accepted the goods that the gods and the sunny soil of France provided them. The accusation, however, banded about by the partisans of these rival vintages, of their tendency to produce gout, had apparently been accepted as gospel truth over here in the first decade of the century. Thus the Dean notes that he
‘dined with Mr. Secretary St. John, and staid till seven, but would not drink his Champaign and Burgundy, for fear of the gout.’[317]
When suffering from a rheumatic pain he displays commendable caution at dinner with Mr. Domville, only drinking
‘three or four glasses of Champaign by perfect teasing,’[318]
for fear of aggravating his suffering. He is prompt, however, to acknowledge himself mistaken:
‘I find myself disordered with a pain all round the small of my back, which I imputed to Champaign I had drunk, but find it to have been only my new cold.’[319]
The Dean does not appear to have been the only sufferer, for we find him writing:
‘I called this evening to see Mr. Secretary, who had been very ill with the gravel and pains in his back, by Burgundy and Champaign, added to the sitting up all night at business; I found him drinking tea, while the rest were at Champaign, and was very glad of it.’[320]
Even Pope, the perforcedly abstemious, was lured into similar excesses by the young Earl of Warwick and Colley Cibber, during his visits to London, whilst engaged on his translation of theIliad, and writes to Congreve,
‘I sit up till two o’clock over Burgundy and Champagne.’[321]
A proof of the popularity of French wines at this period is found in the fact that in 1713, the year of the Peace of Utrecht, the registered imports, despite high duties, reached 2551 tuns, an amount not exceeded till 1786. The Treaty of Commerce, with which Bolingbroke (whose partiality to Champagne we have seen) and M. de Torcy sought to supplement that of Peace, having fallen through,the tavern-keepers put such a price on these wines that it was only members of the fashionable world who could afford to have what was termed ‘a good Champagne stomach.’[322]Their vogue is confirmed by the order given to her servant by a lady aspiring to take a leading position in thebeau mondeto
‘go to Mr. Mixture, the wine-merchant, and order him to send in twelve dozen of his best Champaign, twelve dozen of Burgundy, and twelve dozen of Hermitage,’[323]
as the entire stock for her cellar. ‘Good wine’ was indeed, in those days, ‘a gentleman.’
Wine Bottle as Gentleman‘GOOD WINE A GENTLEMAN.’
‘GOOD WINE A GENTLEMAN.’
The unvarying rule that the fashions set by the most select are inevitably aped by the most degraded, so far as lies in their power, is exemplified in the Tavern Scene of Hogarth’sRake’s Progress, where the table at which the hero and hisinamoratasare seated is set out with the tall wine-glasses wherein
‘Champaign goes briskly round.’[324]
Tavern SceneTAVERN SCENE FROM ‘THE RAKE’S PROGRESS.’
TAVERN SCENE FROM ‘THE RAKE’S PROGRESS.’
The Jacobites, faithful to their traditional ally, continued to toast ‘the King over the water’ bypassing glasses charged with the sparkling wine of France across a bowl filled to the brim with the pure element. The middle classes clung to their beer, or at most indulged in Port and punch; whilst the lower orders seem to have become seized with that insane passion for ardent spirits which Hogarth satirised in his ‘Gin Lane,’ and hailed with glee Sir Robert Walpole’s
‘attempt,Superior to Canary or Champagne,Geneva salutiferous to enhance.’[325]
‘attempt,Superior to Canary or Champagne,Geneva salutiferous to enhance.’[325]
‘attempt,Superior to Canary or Champagne,Geneva salutiferous to enhance.’[325]
‘attempt,
Superior to Canary or Champagne,
Geneva salutiferous to enhance.’[325]
The King over the Water‘THE KING OVER THE WATER.’
‘THE KING OVER THE WATER.’
The Middle Class
The registered imports of the wines of France—though figures in this respect are, we admit, exceedingly deceptive—show a continuous falling off, which reached its lowest ebb in 1746, during war time; and we may be certain that when, after supper,
‘Champagne was the word for two whole hours by Shrewsbury clock,’[326]
it was at the cost of a pretty penny. Although the recorded imports of French wines show but little improvement with the return of peace in 1748, we gather from other sources that the Champagne of 1749 met with a ready market over here, and find Bertin du Rocheret writing exultingly to his friend, the Marquis de Calvières, that the Champenois were making the English pay the cost of the war.
The voluminous correspondence of Bertin du Rocheret gives some curious information as to the manner in which the Champagne trade was carried on with England during the second quarter of the eighteenth century. From 1725 to 1754 he was in constant communication with Mr. James Chabane, who seems to have been the Court wine-merchant, and to whom he despatched at first ten, but during the latter portion of their transactions seldom more than four, pièces of wine annually during the winter months.[327]As regards the particular vintage consumed in England, a preference evidently existed for that of Ay, though it really appears as if Bertin was wont to introduce under this name the then far cheaper growths of Avize. Such, at any rate, seems to have been the case with the parcel of wine divided, in 1754, between King George in London and King Stanislas at Nancy. Referring to the wines of Hautvillers and Sillery, Bertin writes to Chabane in 1731, that a year’s notice must be given in advance to obtain them. Aliquoreuxwine was then preferred, as in 1732 he remarks, respecting the yield of the preceding year, that the English are as mad afterliqueuras the French; and it is evident that the taste continued, as in 1744 he announces the departure for London of eleven poinçonsliquoreux.
Not only was Chabane accustomed to bottle these wines, but while doing so was able to insure to them a semi-sparkling character. With this view Bertin tells him, in 1731, that he must not keep them in cask after the threesèves, or motions of the sap of April, June, or August, except in the case of a pièce from ‘theclos’ reserved ‘for the supply of the Court,’ and intended to be drunk as still wine. Some wine despatched in 1754 is recommended to be bottled during the first quarter of the moon.[328]In addition to the wine thus sent in casks, Bertin was also accustomed to send his correspondent a certain quantity in bottles. In 1725 he quotes for him ‘flacons blancs mousseux liqueur,’ at from 30 to 50 sols, and ‘ambrés non-mousseux sablant,’ at 25 sols. These flasks were all despatched to Dunkirk or into Holland, whence they were smuggled to their ultimate destination, for the introduction of wine in bottles into England was rigidly prohibited until the close of 1745, when it was legalised by Act of Parliament.[329]
Vauxhall GardensSCENE AT VAUXHALL GARDENS(From an engraving after a drawing by Gravelot).
SCENE AT VAUXHALL GARDENS(From an engraving after a drawing by Gravelot).
Horace Walpole, who deals with men rather than manners, with sayings rather than doings, and whose forte is epigram and not description, has little to tell us about the drinking customs of his day. The strictly temperate regimen that marked his later years, and rendered him unfit for mere convivial gatherings, extended to his writings, and he seldom permits his pen to expatiate on those pleasures in which he sought no share. Even in his letters from Reims, written in 1739, when he was doing the grand tour, he omits all mention of the wine for which that city is famed. Still he incidentally furnishes a few instances of the esteem in which Champagne was held by the upper classes in the middle of the eighteenth century. In a letter to George Montague, dated June 23, 1750, he describes how Lord Granby joined his party at Vauxhall whilst suffering considerablyunder the influence of the Champagne he had consumed at ‘Jenny’s Whim,’ a noted tavern at Chelsea; and writing to Sir Horace Mann, a year later, he says that the then chief subjects of conversation in London were the two Miss Gunnings and an extravagant dinner at White’s.
‘The dinner was a frolic of seven young men, who bespoke it to the utmost extent of expense; one article was a tart made of duke cherries, from a hothouse; and another, that they tasted but one glass out of each bottle of Champagne. The bill of fare has got into print, and with good people has produced the apprehension of another earthquake.’[330]
The Earl of March, afterwards ‘Old Q,’ in a letter to Walpole’s friend, George Selwyn, in November 1766, writes: ‘I have not yet received some Champaign that Monsieur de Prissieux has sent me.’[331]And we find Horace Walpole’s fair foe, that eighteenth-century exemplar of strong-minded womanhood, Lady Mary Wortley Montague, whose letters indicate apenchantfor Burgundy, acknowledging in verse the exhilarating effects of Champagne. Of thebeauxof 1721 she says that
‘They sigh, not from the heart but from the brain,Vapours of vanity and strong Champagne.’[332]
‘They sigh, not from the heart but from the brain,Vapours of vanity and strong Champagne.’[332]
‘They sigh, not from the heart but from the brain,Vapours of vanity and strong Champagne.’[332]
‘They sigh, not from the heart but from the brain,
Vapours of vanity and strong Champagne.’[332]
Better known by far are her oft-quoted lines,
‘But when the long hours of the public are past,And we meet with Champagne and a chicken at last,May every fond pleasure that moment endear,Be banished afar both discretion and fear,’[333]
‘But when the long hours of the public are past,And we meet with Champagne and a chicken at last,May every fond pleasure that moment endear,Be banished afar both discretion and fear,’[333]
‘But when the long hours of the public are past,And we meet with Champagne and a chicken at last,May every fond pleasure that moment endear,Be banished afar both discretion and fear,’[333]
‘But when the long hours of the public are past,
And we meet with Champagne and a chicken at last,
May every fond pleasure that moment endear,
Be banished afar both discretion and fear,’[333]
which drew from Byron the terror-stricken comment, ‘What say you to such a supper with such a woman?’[334]
Byron’s Comment
Discussion
During the third quarter of the eighteenth century a cloud dims the lustre of Champagne. It was then looked upon by a vast majority as only a fit accompaniment to masquerades, ridottos, ultra-fashionable dinners, and Bacchanalian suppers. ‘The Champaign made some eyes sparkle that nothing else could brighten,’[335]says the contemporary account of one of those scenes of shameless revelry held under the title of masquerades at the Pantheon, and the orgies that, under the auspices of Mrs. Cornelys, disgraced Carlisle House were mainly inspired by the consumption of the same wine. The citizens of the Georgian era, who had lost the tastes of their fathers, hated French wines simply because they were French; and the hundred thousand gallons imported on an average annually from 1750 to 1786 were entirely consumed amongst the upper or the dissipated classes. Though smuggling was still looked upon as patriotic, if not loyal, those engaged in it had discovered that, thanks to the combined effects of duty and demand, Nantes brandy and Hollands gin paid better. What, indeed, is to be thought of the taste of an era that produced poets whose muse sought inspiration in punch, and who had the sublime audacity to extol the rum of the West Indies above the produce of ‘Marne’s flowery banks’?[336]Only a few of the higher-class men, however, engaged in literature and art seem to have retained a preference for French wine. The accounts of the Literary Club established by Sir Joshua Reynolds show the average consumption at each sitting to have been half a bottle of Port and a bottle of Claret per head. Johnson drank Port mixed with sugar from about 1752 to 1764; became a total abstainer until 1781, and then seems to have given the preference to Madeira.
Literary ClubTHE LITERARY CLUB.
THE LITERARY CLUB.
In contemporaneous comedy we are pretty sure to find the mirror held up to fashion, if not to Nature; and turning to the playwrights of that day, it is easy to cull a few confirmatory excerpts. Thus we have Sterling, the ambitious British merchant, in order to do honour to his noble guests, preparing to
‘give them such a glass of Champaign as they never drank in their lives; no, not at a duke’s table.’[337]
While Lord Minikin, the peer of fashion, makes his entrance on the stage, exclaiming:
‘O my head! I must absolutely change my wine-merchant; I cannot taste his Champaigne without disordering myself for a week.’[338]
On Miss Tittup inquiring if his depression is due to losses at cards, he replies,
‘No, faith, our Champaigne was not good yesterday.’[339]
Jessamy, his lordship’s valet, profits of course by so aristocratic an example; and when speaking of his exploits at the masquerade, says,
‘I was in tip-top spirits, and had drunk a little too freely of the Champaigne, I believe.’[340]
With Philip the butler, ‘Burgundy is the word,’ and from the choicest vintages of his master’s cellar he places on the table ‘Claret, Burgundy, and Champaign; and a bottle of Tokay for theladies;’[341]while Port is characterised by the Duke’s servant as ‘only fit for a dram.’[342]Mrs. Circuit presses the guests at a clandestinely-given repast to ‘taste the Champagne;’ and her husband, the Sergeant, is surprised on his return home to find that they have been so indulging:
‘Delicate eating, in truth; and the wine [Drinks] Champagne, as I live! Must have t’other glass ... delicate white wine, indeed! I like it better every glass.’[343]
Such is his comment.
The effects of the wine are characterised in the following fashion by Garrick, when Sparkish, entering, according to the stage directions, ‘fuddled,’ declares that
‘when a man has wit, and a great deal of it, Champaign gives it a double edge, and nothing can withstand it; ’tis a lighted match to gunpowder; the mine is sprung, and the poor devils are tossed heels uppermost in an instant.’[344]
Lord MinikinLORD MINIKIN.
LORD MINIKIN.
We greet, too, what was perhaps the first appearance of a joke now grown venerable in its antiquity in a farce of Foote’s, the scene of which is laid at Bath. He introduces us to a party of pseudo-invalids devoting their whole time and attention to conviviality, recruiting their debilitated stomachs with turtle and venison, and alternating Bath waters with the choicest vintages, so that the hero Racket is fain to observe to one of them,
‘My dear Sir Kit, how often has Dr. Carawitchet told you that your rich food and Champaigne would produce nothing but poor health and real pain?’[345]
And how many gentlemen in difficulties have not since followed the example set by Harry Dornton in the spunging-house, and ordered, as a consolation,
‘a bottle of Champagne and two rummers’![346]
Turning from fancy to fact, we find Sir Edward Barry furnishing some particulars respecting the Champagne wines consumed in England during the latter half of the last century.[347]He informs us at the outset that
‘the wines of Champaign and Burgundy are made with more care than any other French wines; and the vaults in which the former are preserved are better than any other in France. These wines, from their finer texture and peculiar flavour, cannot be adulterated without the fraud being easily discovered, and are therefore generally imported pure, or by proper care may be certainly procured in that state.’
His remarks evidently refer to the still wines, as he proceeds to explain that ‘the Champaign RiverWines are more delicate and pale than those which are distinguished from them by the name of Mountain gray Wines,’ the latter being more durable and better suited for exportation, whilst the former, if allowed to remain too long in the cask, acquire a taste from the wood, although keeping in flasks from four to six years without harm. Referring to the taste of the day, he explains that
‘among the River Wines the Auvillers and Epernay are most esteemed, and among the Mountain Wines the Selery and St. Thyery, and in general such as are of the colour of a partridge’s eye. These are likewise distinguished for their peculiar grateful pungency and balsamic softness, which is owing to the refined saline principle which prevails more in them than in the Burgundy Wines, on which account they are less apt to affect the head, communicate a milder heat, and more freely pervade and pass through the vessels of the body.... To drink Champaign Wines in the greatest perfection, the flask should be taken from the vault a quarter of an hour before it is drunk, and immersed in ice-water, with the cork so loose in it as is sufficient to give a free passage to the air, and yet prevent too great an evaporation of its spirituous parts.’
At BathHIGH LIVING AT BATH(After Rowlandson, in theNew Bath Guide).
HIGH LIVING AT BATH(After Rowlandson, in theNew Bath Guide).
The foregoing practice still obtains with Sillery, classed by Barry as the first of the Mountain growths, and in the highest favour in England throughout the remainder of the century. Regarding sparkling wine, of which he was evidently no admirer, he adds:
‘For some years the French and English have been particularly fond of the sparkling frothy Champaigns. The former have almost entirely quitted that depraved taste, nor does it now so much prevail here. They used to mix some ingredients to give them that quality; but this is unnecessary, as they are too apt spontaneously to run into that state; but whoever chooses to have such Wines may be assured that they will acquire it by bottling them any time after the vintage before the month of the next May; and the most sure rule to prevent that disposition is not to bottle them before the November following. This rule has been confirmed by repeated experiments.’
On the signature of the Treaty of Peace with France in 1783, it had been stipulated that a Treaty of Commerce should likewise be concluded; and in 1786, under the auspices of Pitt, a treaty of this character was made, the first article providing that ‘The wines of France imported directly from France into Great Britain shall in no case pay any higher duties than those which the wines of Portugal now pay.’ Pitt, spite of his well knownpenchantfor Port, had yet a sneaking liking for Champagne, arising no doubt from his early familiarity with the wine when he went to Reims to study, after leaving the University of Cambridge. It was with Champagne that he was primed onthe memorable occasion when he, Lord Chancellor Thurlow, and Mr. Secretary Dundas galloped after dusk through an open turnpike-gate without paying toll, and only just missed receiving the contents of a loaded blunderbuss, which the turnpike man, fancying they were highwaymen, fired after them. The party had been dining with the President of the Board of Trade at Addiscombe, and a rhymester of the epoch commemorated the incident in the following lines:
‘How as Pitt wandered darkling o’er the plain,His reason drowned in Jenkinson’s Champagne,A rustic’s hand, but righteous fate withstood,Had shed a premier’s for a robber’s blood.’
‘How as Pitt wandered darkling o’er the plain,His reason drowned in Jenkinson’s Champagne,A rustic’s hand, but righteous fate withstood,Had shed a premier’s for a robber’s blood.’
‘How as Pitt wandered darkling o’er the plain,His reason drowned in Jenkinson’s Champagne,A rustic’s hand, but righteous fate withstood,Had shed a premier’s for a robber’s blood.’
‘How as Pitt wandered darkling o’er the plain,
His reason drowned in Jenkinson’s Champagne,
A rustic’s hand, but righteous fate withstood,
Had shed a premier’s for a robber’s blood.’
Dundas, PittDUNDAS AND PITT AS SILENUS AND BACCHUS(After Gilray).
DUNDAS AND PITT AS SILENUS AND BACCHUS(After Gilray).
W. PittWILLIAM PITT(After Gilray).
WILLIAM PITT(After Gilray).
Tickell has noted the appreciation of Brooks’ Champagne shown by Pitt’s great rival in the lines addressed to Sheridan, and purporting to be an invitation to supper from Fox. The illustrious member for Westminster promises his guest that
‘Derby shall send, if not his plate, his cooks,And know I’ve bought the best Champaign from Brooks.’[348]
‘Derby shall send, if not his plate, his cooks,And know I’ve bought the best Champaign from Brooks.’[348]
‘Derby shall send, if not his plate, his cooks,And know I’ve bought the best Champaign from Brooks.’[348]
‘Derby shall send, if not his plate, his cooks,
And know I’ve bought the best Champaign from Brooks.’[348]
Brooks’ Club enjoyed a high reputation for its Champagne, and we find Fighting Fitzgerald emptying three bottles there without assistance, the same evening on which he bullied the members into electing him.[349]
The year after the Treaty of Commerce was signed, we have an anonymous writer remarking[350]that in time of peace the English drew large quantities of wine from Bordeaux and Nantes, and that the other French wines they were in the habit of consuming were those of Mantes, Burgundy, and Champagne, shipped respectively from Rouen, Dunkirk, and Calais. Arthur Young, writing at the same time, remarks,aproposof Champagne, that the trade with England ‘used to be directly from Epernay; but now the wine is sent to Calais, Boulogne, Montreuil, and Guernsey, in order to be passed into England they suppose here by smuggling. This may explain our Champagne not being so good as formerly.’[351]It is to be hoped that neither Arthur Young nor other connoisseurs of Champagne had been enticed into drinking as the genuine article any of the produce of the vineyard which the Hon. Charles Hamilton had planted with the Auvernat grape near Cobham, in Surrey, and which was said to yield a wine ‘resembling Champagne.’[352]
The reduction of duty consequent upon the treaty as a matter of course largely increased the importation of French wine. Respecting the taste for Champagne then prevailing in England, and the price the wine commanded, a few interesting particulars are afforded by the early correspondence and account-books of Messrs. Moët & Chandon of Epernay, which we have courteously been permitted to inspect. From these we find that in October 1788 the Chevalier Colebrook, writing in French to the firm from Bath, asks that seventy-two bottles of Champagne may be sent to his friend, the Hon. John Butler of Molesworth-street, Dublin, ‘who, if content with the wine, will become a very good customer, being rich, keeping a good house, and receiving many amateurs ofvin de Champagne.’ The writer is no doubt the ‘M. Collebrock’ to whom the firm shortly afterwards forward fifty bottles of ‘vin non mousseux, 1783,’ on his own account. Messrs. Carbonnell, Moody, & Walker, predecessors of the well-known existing firm ofCarbonnell & Co., London, in a letter dated November 1788, and also written in French, say: ‘If you can supply us with some Champagne of a very good body, not too much charged with liqueur, but with an excellent flavour, and not at allmoussu, we beg you to send two ten dozen baskets. Also, if you have any dry Champagne of very good flavour, solidity, and excellent body, send two baskets of the same size.’
The taste of the day was evidently for a full-bodied non-sparkling wine; and this is confirmed by Jeanson, Messrs. Moët’s traveller in England, who writes from London in May 1790: ‘How the taste of this country has altered within the last ten years! Almost everywhere they ask for a dry wine; but they want a wine so vinous and so strong, that there is hardly anything but Sillery that will satisfy them.’ Additional confirmation is found in a letter, written from London in May 1799 to Messrs. Moët, by a Mr. John Motteux, complaining of delay in the delivery of a parcel of wine said to have been sent off by way of Havre, and very likely destined to be surreptitiously introduced into EnglandviâGuernsey. He asks for a further supply of Sillery, if its safe arrival can be guaranteed, and remarks, ‘There is nothing to be compared to Sillery when it is genuine; it must not have the least sweetness normousse.’[353]
During the great French war, patriotism and increased duties might have been expected to check the import of French wines; yet, if statistics are worth anything, the reverse would appear to have been the case. The registered imports, which from 1770 to 1786 had fluctuated between 80,000 and 125,000 gallons, rose during the last fourteen years of the century to an average of 550,000 gallons per annum. In those fighting, rollicking, hard-drinking times, when it was a sacred social duty to toast ‘great George our King’ on every possible occasion, Champagne continued to be ‘the wine of fashion.’ The sparkling variety was terribly costly, no doubt, and was often doled out, as Mr. Walker relates, ‘like drops of blood.’[354]But whilst the stanch admirers of Port might profess to despise Champagne as effeminate, and the ‘loyal volunteers’ condemn it as the produce of a foeman’s soil, there were plenty to sing in honour of ‘The Fair of Britain’s Isle:’