Parisian Wine Harvest — Encore
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some patches of neat little vineyards, scattered in different parts of
the city. Now, with the Vendanges round the corner, is the time to
explore these pocketsize vestiges of days not so long gone by, when the
city was a collection of villages and winegrowing was as common as
selling junk food is today. Now is the time to join in the annual
grape-picking festivities, be it in Montmartre, or elsewhere, usaully
on a Saturday, in late September or October, according to weather
fluctuations.
of western Paris too, now the 16th arrondissement. Back in the Middle
Ages, the wine of Auteuil had gained a reputation that spread beyond
the borders of France. A Danish bishop by the name of Roschild thanked
the canons of Notre-Dame for the excellent quality wine from Auteuil
they had sent him as a gift: Vino optimo Altolil. At the time of Pierre
Abélard, students came to Auteuil to drink its wine every 22 January –
the holy day of Saint Vincent, patron of the vineyards – who was
celebrated here with much rejoicing. But later the wines of Passy and
Chaillot began to compete with it, eventually bringing about its
decline.
Passy still honours its dionysian past by way of its
wine museum at 5, Square Charles Dickens. Le Musée du Vin, also known
as Le Caveau des Echonsons, occupies a vast 14th-century vaulted
cellar. This was once part of the domain of the Minimes, whose
wine-growing monks kept their wine in these vaults. Here you can see
historical scenes animated by wax dolls showing, for example, Napoleon
tasting a Bourgogne and Balzac walking own the stairs in his white
dressing-gown to escape his creditors; bailiffs in his nearby home on
rue Raynouard, as well as a display of various items connected with
wine. The bonshommes cultivated their vineyards roughly on the site of
the present rue Vineuse and their claret was so praised that Louis XIII
came over to drink it after the hunt.
Of all Paris’s vineyards,
Montmartre’s is the most renowned. Continue along rue Norvins and turn
left into rue des Saules, named after the willow trees that once grew
on this watery spot. On your right is Montmartre’s vineyard, a neat,
bright-green patch cheerfully tilted downhill towards rue
Saint-Vincent, but against all logic, exposed to the north! This is
because it was planted in 1934 by Montmartre’s merry yet incompetent
intelligentsia to revive old traditions. Their knowledge of wine
growing was limited indeed, and unaware that grapes need four years
before they can be pressed for wine, they went on to organise the first
grape-picking ceremony the following year. The ceremony was held all
the same and was honoured by the presence of both the President of the
Republic, Albert Lebrun, and the Minister of Agriculture, Henri
Quenille, who were offered the first two bunches of grapes. The
grape-picking ceremony has been repeated every October since, except
during World War II. The wine is pressed in the cellar of the Mairie
and sold at auction in April. The labels of the bottles are painted by
local artists and the money raised is used for charity, a tradition
initiated by the artist Poulbot for the children of the hill, whom he
had loved and fostered, and immortalised in his paintings.
of the hill of Montmartre, is an area called La Goutte d’Or, a
working-class area, the one-time home of Emile Zola’s Gervaise. But the
name “The Golden Drop” evokes better times. In the middle of this North
African enclave, behind an iron gate at no. 42, is la Villa
Poissonnière, an incongruous countrified alleyway sloping gently down
towards you, decked with the same romantic street lamps as those that
decorate la Butte Montmartre: it seems to have been placed here by
mistake. On either side stand charming old houses, some attractively
embellished by ceramics, each with its exquisite, pocket-size garden
filled with the twittering of birds. This site is believed to have been
the property of a winegrower when this was open countryside, ideally
situated on its sunny slope rolling gently to the south. Indeed, in the
Middle Ages the wine of La Goutte d’Or had attained such renown that
during a European contest at the time of Saint Louis it shared third
prize with the wines of Alicante and Laconia. The first prize when to
Cyprus, the ‘Pope’ of wines, and the second prize went to Malaga, the
‘Cardinal’ of wines. The wine of La Goutte d’Or was crowned the `King’
of
wines, which also tells us something about the position of the royal
authorities in the hierarchy of medieval Europe and their struggle to
gain independence from Rome. It was customary at the time for the City
of Paris to present the King with wine from La Goutte d’Or on his
birthday.
Further east, in today’s 20th arrondissement, is the
rivalling hill of Belleville, which claims to be the summit of Paris.
However, Montmartre seems to beat it by half a meter, even though the
people of Belleville claim to the contrary. Be it as it may, in
pre-industrial days Belleville was a land of neat strips of vineyards
clinging to its sunny slopes, now revived symbolically in the recently
created parc de Belleville, as a nod of respect to its pastoral past
The
village of Charonne, in the 20th arrondissement, but further south, was
a village of winegrowers favoured by Jean Jacques Rousseau, as he
reported in Reverie d’un promeneur solitaire, an account of his
ramblings in the Paris area. If you wish to be among the last to see
the seamier side of old Paris before it is relegated to the historical
archives, and your feet are up to it, continue along rue Vitruve as far
as rue des Orteaux, then turn left. To your right, on either side of
rue des Vignoles – whose name alone evokes the vinegrowing past – lie
several narrow streets, lined with crumbling
houses and hovels,
which have retained the exact layout of the vineyards they have,
regrettably, replaced. Here too, concrete is fast devouring the little
crumbling houses, whose ill-fated tenants were poets and wits. The
first alley to your right on rue des Orteaux, beyond rue de Vignoles,
has been dubbed Impasse Dieu, not to mark some spiritual yearning, but
just to honour the memory of one of the inhabitants of Charonne, a
certain Monsieur Dieu
A bunch of rascals was quick to give tit
for tat with Impasse Satin! – first to your left along rue des
Vignoles. And if the parallel Impasse Rançon ransom), reflects
presumably shady goings-on in these parts, Impasse des Souhaits
(wishes) and Impasse de la Confiance (confidence, trust, or faith), on
either side of rue des Vignoles a little further down, add a touch of
optimism to an otherwise desperate world. So does the happy, sunbathed
roof terrace at no. 86 rue des Vignoles, bursting with flowers among
its crumbling neighbours.
Last but not least, perhaps the best
hidden vineyard of Paris is just behind the polluted and unlikely
neighbourhood of the Gare St-Lazare! At no 28 rue Blanche, in the 9th
arrondissement, is one of the city’s well-known fire station, which has
a vineyard on the premises – six vines in all, nurtured by the fire
brigade since 1904! The firemen produce an average of 30 bottles of
wine a year. On the second Friday of October the picking of the grapes
is celebrated with great pomp. The names on the bottles may sound
promising – Le Pinot Noire and Chasselas – but the wine itself is
almost undrinkable, although the labels are highly sought after by
collectors.