Converts dull Port to bright Champagne;
Such freedom crowns it at an inn.’[312]
Vanbrugh, whose writings were of a decidedly lighter character than the edifices he erected, probably had recourse to Champagne to assist him in the composition of the former, and neglected it when planning the designs for the latter. These, indeed, would seem to have been conceived under the influence of some such ‘heavy muddy stuff’ as the ‘Norfolk nog,’ which Lady Headpiece reproaches her husband for allowing their son and heir to indulge in, saying:
‘Well, I wonder, Sir Francis, you will encourage that lad to swill such beastly lubberly liquor. If it were Burgundy or Champaign, something might be said for’t; they’d perhaps give him some art and spirit.’[313]
Swift has given in his Journal to Stella extensive information as to the wines in vogue in London in 1710–13. He seems for his own part to have been, as far as nature permitted him, an accommodating toper, indulging, in addition to Champagne, in Tokay, Portugal, Florence, Burgundy, Hermitage, ‘Irish wine,’ i.e. Claret, ‘right French wine,’ Congreve’s ‘nasty white wine’ that gave him the heartburn, and Sir William Read’s ‘admirable punch.’ He acknowledges that the more fashionable beverages of the day were not to his taste. ‘I love,’ writes he, ‘white Portugal wine better than Claret, Champaign, or Burgundy. I have a sad vulgar appetite.’[314] Still, while observing due moderation, he did not entirely shun the lighter potations with which the table of the luxurious and licentious St. John was so freely supplied. On one occasion he writes:
‘I dined to-day by appointment with Lord Bolingbroke; but they fell to drinking so many Spanish healths in Champaign, that I stole away to the ladies and drank tea till eight.’[315]
And on another we find him refusing to allow his host to
‘drink one drop of Champaign or Burgundy without water.’[316]