Lower Your Sails (Or Breeches): Beychevelle 1929-2019
BY NEAL MARTIN |
Apart from interesting backstories, Beychevelle has passed between some of the most powerful families in France over nearly a millennium. This article stems from a vertical tasting of 25 vintages marking the quarter-century of Philippe Blanc’s tenure, plus a handful of notes for wines back to 1929.
Mooning. According to the Collins English Dictionary, mooning is defined as “The act of showing your naked bottom in public as a joke or as a protest.” It dates back to Roman times when it was used to mock enemies. Flavius Josephus recorded the gesture at the beginning of the Roman-Jewish war when a Roman soldier mooned at Jewish pilgrims assembled for Passover. It did not end well. The resulting riot and stampede led to thousands of deaths. Mooning really became popular in medieval times, most notably on the battlefield. Memorably recreated in the film Braveheart, when the Scots hoist their kilts to mock the English, in fact, historians suggest it is more likely that English buttocks saw fresh air before the bloodshed began. The ritual persists to this day. Every classroom contains one unruly lad who will drop his trousers at the merest provocation; the wider the audience, the better. Favored location is the coach trip. Somewhere down the motorway, egged on by his ululating mates, he will moon out the window to embarrass passing drivers before the teacher hears the commotion and marches down the aisle yelling: “PULL YOUR TROUSERS UP, YOU ‘ORRIBLE LITTLE BOY.”
I know what you are thinking. Why am I discussing mooning in a piece devoted to Château Beychevelle? The story of passing ships lowering their sails as they passed Beychevelle to honor the admiral of the French fleet, the Duc d’Épernon, is well known. But to my own surprise, writer Bernard Ginestet not only casts doubt on that apocryphal tale, but suggests that not everyone was so deferential. For reasons that I shall explain, the didactic duke had many foes. Those wishing to express their feelings another way would purportedly stand on deck to lower not the sail, but their trousers, exposing their backside in the duke’s direction. Suffice it to say that this insult is not depicted on the label of Beychevelle.
The iron statue of a shipping vessel became the emblem of Beychevelle.
History
For this article, I delve a little deeper than usual into the ancestral roots of Beychevelle. Apart from interesting backstories, over almost a millennium, Beychevelle passed between some of the most powerful families in France. Its roots can be traced back to the seigneurie of Lamarque, one of a series of fortified maisons designed to protect the Médoc. In the 15th century, the land belonged to the Foix de Candale family, often associated with Château d’Issan. In 1587, their only daughter and heiress married Jean-Louis Nogaret de la Valette, the Duc d’Épernon, later appointed Governor of Guyenne. Quoting the ever-quotable writer Bernard Ginestet, he was “an ambitious, pushy opportunist” who amassed considerable wealth and power and was instrumental in the accession of Henri IV. During this era, merchant ships, not only French, that sailed past the property would lower their sails as a gesture of fidelity towards the Admiral of France, one of the duke’s innumerable titles. The origin of Beychevelle’s label depicts a ship decorated with a griffon on its prow in the act of lowering its sail. In Gascon, this act is known as Bêcha vela, or baisse voile – lower the sails. One would assume that is the etymology of “Beychevelle”.
Ginestet is surprisingly skeptical that ships performed this ritual, pointing to the fact that the Duc d’Épernon spent most of his time at other residences. In fact, both he and his son Bernard were unpopular autocrats that unscrupulously extracted every last penny from their tenants. Ginestet mentions how the site was rumored to host occult rituals and witchcraft in the 16th century. Hence its local name prat Lauret, Gascon etymology for a place where evil things happen. I suspect the rumors might stem from embittered locals seeking to bad-mouth their landlord.
Apart from interesting backstories, Beychevelle has passed between some of the most powerful families in France over nearly a millennium. This article stems from a vertical tasting of 25 vintages marking the quarter-century of Philippe Blanc’s tenure, plus a handful of notes for wines back to 1929.
