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44 English people but as watering-places,—delightful for a time, but in the long run poor substitutes for London during the season.

''Vanitas vanitatum! omnia vanitas!'' may be the remark of some dismal person upon what has here been written of London. It may be so; and if it is so, let us make the best of it. I distinctly like vanities of all kinds, and more especially those which involve the society of the most intelligent and pleasant of my fellow-creatures, and an enjoyment of the highest forms of art and literature, and the spectacle of the full-swelling tide of human life. Let us leave Tityrus and Melibœus to their goats and their hexameters if they like them; but let us rather take our stand at Charing Cross. Above all, let as many of us as delight in the sight of happy human faces, come to London—during the season.

2em



that deputations from the British wine merchants, or rather manufacturers, are no longer waiting upon Mr. Gladstone, and the makers and vendors of “publican’s port” have done getting up sympathy meetings with the afflicted teetotallers—we will, if you please, good reader, take a trip to the vineyards of La Belle France.

Commencing with the most northernly, it will be necessary to take our tickets to Épernay. This is on the line of railway—constructed, I believe, with English money, as most of the continental railways are—from Paris to Strasbourg, which answers to our Eastern Counties. Starting from the splendid terminus Place de Strasbourg, we pass from the north side of Paris, and soon arrive at the orchards and gardens of Lagny, on the left bank of the Marne. Twice crossing this river, we arrive at Meaux, a large city with eight or nine thousand people, and catch a glimpse of the stately cathedral of St. Stephen, and whirl past the avenue of yews where the learned Bossuet was accustomed to meditate undisturbed by the shrill whistle and whirr of the railway-train. The water-mills on the Marne are always going, to supply Paris with flour, and the land around is productive. The dairymaids make a very delicious cheese, called fromage de Brie. Rattling through the tunnel of Armentière, we pass La Ferté-sans-Jouarre, celebrated for the best millstones in the world, cut out of a silicious rock known as Burr stone, forming the uppermost stratum of the fresh-water basin in which Paris is situated. Blocks are extracted in cylinders, but the millstones are usually composed of pieces, bound together by iron, and presenting somewhat the appearance of mosaic work. Some twelve hundred pairs are produced annually: a good stone, six feet and a half in diameter, costs about 48l. The river here is varied by islands, one supporting the half-ruined castle of La Barre. All along to the Château Thierry station the banks of the Marne are very pretty, and the surrounding country shows evidence of a recent awakening and progress amongst the farmers. This old town wears a shattered look—it has been hacked and scarred; and seeking to recollect the cause, we revert to the campaign of 1814, when the plain of Brie was occupied by hordes of Calmucs and Cossacks. We have just time to notice the picturesque castle built by Charles Martel for young King Thierry IV. upon the summit of a pleasing slope, before the railway-train crosses the Marne for the eighth and last time, and we break away into the prettiest part of the ancient province of Champagne—the country of the Champagne wines—a district from whence it is said the kings of France were supplied with Fools—a fact considerably in favour of the intelligence of the people.

Passing Dormans, the birth-place of Pope Urban II., and Port à Binson, where is visible the Gothic castle built by Madame Cliquot (“the mother of wines”), we come to the head-quarters of Vins de Champagne, namely, Epernay, and are now about eighty miles from Paris. Making a pleasant trip to Rheims, a little to the north (where we are reminded of the prophesying rustics and the wonderful Maid of Orleans), and observing the vineyards which cover the slopes that surround and arise from the banks of the Vesle, and then visiting the hill of Aï on the Marne, and Hautvilliers, and Dizy, and Avernay, and prosecuting all imaginable inquiries in rather feeble French wherever it is possible to do so, we obtain certain disjointed facts, which, digested, group themselves into something like the following order.

These Champagne wines are divided into Vins de la Rivière and Vins de la Montagne; the former, or those produced from the lands in the valley, being the richest. They occupy a tract of country about five leagues in extent.

It must here be remarked, that position and aspect make prodigious difference in the yield of the vine. In the slope of a hill, from the top to the bottom, there will often be three different sorts of wine. The best and most favourable aspect for a vineyard is upon a rising ground facing the south-east; and thus we generally find them situated. The vine grows in every soil, but only very few are adapted to its economic cultivation. It luxuriates in the débris of granite rocks; and beds bearing marks of volcanic action are peculiarly favourable to its growth. There we find a thin calcareous soil, where very little else would flourish but the vine.

The vineyards upon these slopes remind us of Kent, because the vines, like the hops, are supported by means of poles. In the south they are allowed to trail along the ground for the purpose of preventing evaporation of moisture from the soil; but, in consequence of the cold and wet weather often prevalent in the north, they are here artificially supported.

The vintage commences when the leaves begin to fall, and the juice is sweet, bland, thick, and clammy. The fruit is usually gathered before the sun has risen, by which means a briskness is given to the wine, and its quantity is increased by one ton in twenty-four. A sufficient quantity of fruit is gathered to fill one or two vats, to insure an equal fermentation; and this gathering is performed by women with scissors, cutting the ripest bunches, and mixing with them a small proportion of the slightly unripe berries. For the red Vins