La Fare et la bon Silène,
Qui pour en avoir trop bu,
Retrouvoient la porte à peine,
D’un lieu qu’ils ont tant connu.”
These wines are now all forgotten, and, with the exception of the vin de Condrieux, exist no longer. Who could have imagined this a century ago? and how “has it come to pass?” May it not have been, as Le Grand d’Aussy suggests, that the proprietors, blinded by the bait of a sure and speedy sale, which the proximity of the capital afforded, were guilty of the imprudence of neglecting the proper cultivation of the vines, or chose plants of an inferior quality. It was remarked, more than two centuries ago, that the reputation of the Orleans wines was owing to the manner of making them. It appears that the inhabitants of Orleans, like wise and sensible men, confined themselves to that object alone, making it their only occupation. Over the minutest details they exercised supervision and control; whereas the Lyonnais and the Parisians purchased a wine estate, rather as a showy bauble than as a matter of commerce, and completely surrendered the management to paid agents. “Whence comes it,” says Liebaut, “that you rarely hear a native of Orleans or a Bourguignon complain of his vines, whilst the complaints of a Parisian are iteratively urged?” The reason is that one occupies himself personally in the matter, whilst the other trusts to an ignorant or knavish vine-dresser.
To Francis I., and the grandees of his court, Champier attributes the discredit into which the wines of the neighbourhood of Paris had commenced to fall. “These personages,” says he, “having had their taste blunted by good cheer, found the Parisian wines poor and weak. They, therefore, fell on the strong and vigorous wines of the south of France, which they obtained at considerable cost.”
The Auvernat wine of Orleans, so praised by the Abbé de Marolles, is thus severely treated by Boileau,—
“Un laquais effronté m’apporte un rouge bord
D’un Auvernat fumeux, qui mêlé de lignage;
Se vendoit chez creuet pour vin de l’hermitage;