Where the Heart Is: Ducru-Beaucaillou 1934-2018

BY NEAL MARTIN | JULY 21, 2022

The first time I saw proprietor Bruno Borie’s kitchen, I made an indelible mental note never to allow Mrs M to set eyes upon it. ‘Tis the kitchen of your wildest dreams: an oven built from a Sherman tank, a constellation of copperware dangling from the ceiling, knives sharpened by a samurai overlord, herbs and spices from A to Z. Borie’s kitchen has conjured up some of the most delectable dishes I’ve ever eaten, eschewing the sophisticated or froufrou for the apotheosis of traditional French country-style cuisine, a morel sauce to die for, tender beef that could turn a vegan into a carnivore. Apart from a gourmand, Borie is raconteur, bon viveur, art collector and above all else, vigneron. He presides over a cornerstone of the Left Bank, a Saint-Julien estate that has been a constant throughout my own quarter-century career, Ducru-Beaucaillou.

During my extended sojourn in Bordeaux last June, we undertook a vertical tasting that we had discussed for many years. Borie asked how many vintages I wanted to taste, and my default reply always is: As many as you are happy to open. Borie excelled not just in terms of the number of vintages, but the professionalism of organisation. Together with his winemaking team, we travelled through time from the most recent release back to the early Fifties.

Such a tasting deserves a write-up of equal magnitude. If you are planning to read this, I advise setting aside an hour or take a break halfway through; perhaps, pour yourself a wee dram of Ducru-Beaucaillou. Don’t blame the author entirely. Bruno Borie’s replies to my enquiries were so comprehensive and insightful that they deserve to be published unabridged. They afford readers an insight into the history, modus operandi and the family members that have presided over Ducru-Beaucaillou to create what might well be the definitive article.

So, let us go back to the only place to start. The beginning.

History

The genesis of Ducru-Beaucaillou can be traced back to 30 May, 1720, when Jacques de Bergeron was betrothed to Marie Dejean, whose dowry included land in a lieu-dit known as “Maucaillou”, a portmanteau of mauvais (bad) and caillou (pebbles). It infers that the soil was difficult to work, not with respect to vines in that period, but to cereal crops. Once vines were found to thrive in this locale, the name was amended from “mauvais” to “beau”. The land was farmed by the de Bergeron family and, according to Clive Coates when researching the Lawton archives, wine was only sold under the “Beaucaillou” name from around 1760. He entertains the possibility that at the time of the Revolution, the parliamentarian François de Bergeron was the same that owned the land.

The imposing rear façade of Ducru-Beaucaillou. You can see the towers that were constructed later to flank the chartreuse. The tasting room is located on the ground floor.

In 1797, the land was purchased by Bertrand Ducru who duly appended his name to the cru. Ducru reconstituted the vineyards and renovated the buildings, which were initially built purely for functional purposes, the grand directoire-style façade that visitors see nowadays was constructed in 1820. Throughout the first half of the 19th century, the quality and reputation of the wine began to befit such a splendid château and production reached 150 tonneaux per annum by 1850. This melioration was perfectly timed, as prices reached a level whereby it was ranked Deuxième Cru in the 1855 Classification. Bernard Ginestet, writing in his Saint-Julien book, attributes the rise of Ducru-Beaucaillou to Antoine Ravez, who married Ducru’s daughter, Marie-Louise. The father of Ravez, Auguste Ravez, acted as député for the Gironde between 1816 and 1829 and ennobled by Charles X. After Bertrand Ducru passed away in 1829, the estate was run by his son Gustave and daughter Marie-Louise, though it is said that its stature and reputation was enhanced by the contacts and influence of her father-in-law, Auguste. That meant that quality of wine notwithstanding, Ducru-Beaucaillou was virtually guaranteed a high ranking in the 1855 Classification, eventually designating a Second Growth. In 1857, Gustave acquired Branaire from his cousin-in-law, Léo du Luc that begat the fellow Saint-Julien, Branaire-Ducru. Presumably, wishing to focus solely on Branaire, Gustave sold his share in Ducru-Beaucaillou to his sister in May 1860. One might have expected her to hold on to ownership for a number of years, but on 3 March 1866, she sold it to Lucie-Caroline Dassier, the wife of Nathaniel Johnston, for the princely sum of 1 million Francs. It was purchased in her name since it was underwritten by her family and added to Château Dauzac in Margaux that Johnston had acquired in 1863.

The Johnston Era

Johnston’s forebears emigrated from Ireland at the turn of the 18th century and were immediately subsumed into society as French citizens. Johnston was a civil engineer from the École Polytechnique and École des Mines, an inquisitive man perpetually interested in the latest techniques, including the production of sparkling Médoc wine that he branded “Sparkling Ducru”. Since Ducru-Beaucaillou was not their first property, Johnston allegedly tried and failed to revert the name back to “Beaucaillou”.

The estate kindly sent me this old etching of the château and a black and white photo of the rear garden.

Perhaps their purchase was ill-timed? Mildew and phylloxera lay just ahead. But it was at Ducru-Beaucaillou where a remedy for the former was serendipitously discovered, a copper sulphate solution known as “Bordeaux Mixture”. Fed up with thieves stealing grapes from the vineyard, vineyard manager Ernest David painted the most targeted vines closest to the road with a concocted blue-green mixture. Lo and behold, he noticed that these vines became impervious to mildew. Further experiments were undertaken under the supervision of two professors, Gayon and Alexis Millardet, plus Skawinski from the renowned agronomist family. The copper sulphate solution was trialled at Dauzac in Margaux since they did not want to risk the more precious vines at Ducru-Beaucaillou.

In 1876, Lucie-Caroline Dassier passed away and two years later, Johnston married Princess Marie Caradja of Constantinople, the daughter of Prince Constantine of Turkey. Wishing to add grandeur to the château, he commissioned architect Michel-Louis Garros to add two Victorian towers at each end of the chartreuse, whilst Eugène Bühler was tasked with landscaping the encompassing gardens.

Many châteaux suffered the ravages of phylloxera and economic malaise, though Ducru-Beaucaillou fared better than most. In 1904, Johnston became the first president of the Syndicat des Grand Crus Classés du Médoc. Nevertheless, demand remained fragile, and following the First World War, Johnston’s business began to suffer after Prohibition eviscerated the U.S. market. The reputation of Ducru-Beaucaillou began to slip by association, and in 1928, Johnston was coerced to sell the estates to Fernand Odon Desbarats, who was married to Mary Butler de Burke, the daughter of a powerful English family that had settled in Ireland. He was a partner in a firm of Bordeaux merchants, as well as the great-grandfather of Edouard Miailhe, current proprietor of Château Siran. Alas, Desbarats was unable to turn its fortunes around as the Thirties dealt successive wretched seasons and markets continued to suffer. By the beginning of the Second World War, Ducru-Beaucaillou was in a dilapidated condition, unprofitable and run down. Then, Debarats passed away, and the estate was put on the market again.

The ornate gardens that stretch from the château almost to the banks of the Gironde Estuary.

The Borie Era Begins