THE LOIRE VALLEY

Fortified castles made to keep the invaders out.

Fairytale castles made to keep the magic in.

Pastoral orchards of apples, cherries, and Anjou pears. Gently sloping hillsides of vines cultivated since Roman times. Centuries-old villages carved out of gorgeous creamy limestone with streets made for horses. Modern bike paths hugging the Loire river and winding in and out of villages for 500 miles. Saturday morning markets with local cheesemakers, winemakers, asparagus growers, wild strawberry foragers, and farmers selling ducks. And a climate the French simply call “sweet”.

In short, the Loire has it all.

But to be fair, this isn’t the main reason I fell in love with the Loire Valley of France. I fell in love with the Loire because I fell in love with its people and the wines that reflect the honesty, amiability, and strong, unbending backbones of these same people. I could talk at length about how much I love the vibrancy in the wines of the Loire, the minerality, the je ne sais quoi verve in these wines that makes you sit up and take notice. But wines with these qualities simply can’t be made by winemakers who are standing on pretense or vignerons copying the style of a more well-known wine region. Wines like these must be made by people who are loyal to themselves and their terroir alone, not out to fashion wines that appeal to the masses. And most of the Loire growers I met on that first visit, and all of the Loire growers I work with today, claim a certain nobility; a nobility born not out of birth, but one born out of a deep respect and appreciation for this storied region.

Regardless of whether they were born in the Loire or not, these winemakers recognize that this is sacred land, farmed by Romans and soldiers and crusaders and peasants and farmers for centuries and centuries before them. They benefit from a veritable canon of folk wine literature and a millennium of precedent. And the wines they make, the ones that travel across an ocean and move through warehouses and container ships and delivery trucks until they are finally on your table, those wines are full of this same nobility, probity, and faithfulness that is present in the people of the Loire. And that, dear burgeoning Loirophile, is why I fell in love with the Loire Valley of France.

But we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s go back to the beginning.

A (VERY) BRIEF HISTORY OF THE LOIRE VALLEY

PART I: ANCIENT HISTORY

It is believed that the Loire river was formed when two ancient rivers were joined together during the uplift and formation of the Paris Basin (more on that in the geology section later). The first, what is referred to as the paleolithic Loire, actually flowed north and joined the Seine, the mythical river that now flows through Paris and into Normandy. The second began as a trickle in the region we now called the Giennois, about an hour’s drive northwest of Sancerre, and flowed to the west roughly along its current course. During the tumultuous formation period of the Paris Basin, this second Loire river caught and wrangled the paleolithic Loire (sometimes called the Loire Séquanaise, or “Seine Loire”) into one large river that spawned the valley as we know it today. The riverbed of the former Loire Séquanaise is now occupied by the river Loing, a tributary of the Seine that begins about an hour northeast of Sancerre and flows into the Seine just east of Fontainebleau.

The Loire Valley has seen periods of habitation since the Middle Paleolithic period. Evidence has been found that points to Neanderthal man cutting down trees to fashion crude boats in which to navigate the river. Starting at around 5000 BC, modern man was living on both banks of the Loire and farming in a way not too dissimilar to how it was done just 500 years ago. The Gauls, divided into disparate tribes who would only come together to fight when faced with massive opposing military force, arrived in the Loire Valley in the millennium between 1500 and 500 BC. The most powerful of the tribes, the Carnutes, settled in the central Loire and began building bridges over the river, most notably at Orleans, one of two Carnute strongholds along with Chartres. The name Carnute comes from the Gaulish “carnon” meaning “the horned ones”. They were fierce military fighters, a distinction which was to be important, as one of history’s most powerful military and political machines was about to arrive, uninvited, on their doorstep.

That military machine was called Rome. Julius Caesar, a proconsul of the Roman Empire, used the pretext of mostly small-scale Gallic incursions to launch a massive military operation into Gaul, current-day France and Belgium. Caesar’s debts were mounting, and he was desperate for a way to pay them off and advance his political ambitions. Conquering Gaul would, in his private view, help both of these causes. The Gauls were not poor, simple tribes carving out a meager existence. On the contrary, they were skilled traders by the time the Romans arrived in 58 BC, with long-established relationships with the Greeks and even many Roman merchants. The Gauls were wealthy and politically powerful, even if they were divided into tribes that often didn’t get along.

Between 58 and 52 BC, Caesar’s forces waged a scorched-earth campaign through Gaul, burning villages to the ground along the way. They were met with fierce resistance by tribe after tribe, but by the time the Gauls found a way to unite against the Romans, it was too late. The decisive victory took place at the Gallic fort of Alesia (near the town of Alise-Sainte-Reine, about an hour’s drive southeast of Chablis) in 52 BC. The chieftain of the Averni (a Gallic tribe), Vercingetorix, had finally succeeded in uniting the Gallic tribes against the Romans, and his force outnumbered the Romans by as many as four to one. Caesar’s victory over this outnumbering force is considered one of his greatest military achievements and effectively gave the Romans control over all of Gaul. Gallic France now belonged to Rome.

While Alesia was a sad day for the Gauls, it was a great day for the rest of us. In the coming decades, Rome brought order, modern methods of building and farming, and most importantly for our purposes, vines. By this point in history, the Romans had been planting vineyards and making wine for centuries. At the beginning of their vinous history, Roman wine was relatively inexpensive, but it was the imported wine from Greece that commanded the highest prices. That began to change in the 2nd century BC with what is known as the “Golden Age” of winemaking in the Roman empire. The best sites were given the equivalent of Grand Cru status, and the best vintages began to creep up in price until Greek wines were supplanted as the benchmark of quality in the empire. The vintage of 121 BC was so good that it even got a name - the Opimian vintage - with bottles being held and consumed over 100 years later.

Perhaps more importantly was the Roman egalitarian sense that all men and women, regardless of wealth or social class, deserved to drink wine. Slaves as well as their masters drank wine with their evening meal, although, as you might imagine, not exactly the same wine. In the Roman army, wine was part of a soldier’s daily rations. Most soldiers drank a type of beverage called posca, a wine (or sometimes a vinegar) mixed with water and often herbs. When a general wanted to show that he was in solidarity with his men, he would put aside his finer wine and drink posca with them, trying hard to get it down without a grimace, no doubt.

And so it was that when the Romans finally began to put down roots in Gaul, they started planting vines near the garrisons to supply the military men left there to keep order. Rome sent retired soldiers who had a background in growing grapes and making wine to the new settlements in Gaul to teach winemaking and vineyard planting. Merchants and entrepreneurs, anxious to make a buck (or a denarius, rather), moved to Gaul to grow grapes and sell wine to the local population. In some cases, they brought grape varietals with them and in others, they simply cultivated grapes that were already being grown by the Gauls. They introduced the concept of planting vines on south-facing hillsides to maximize sun exposure. They had discovered by that point that cold air flows down into pockets on the valley floors and that this is not an ideal condition for grape growing. There is ample evidence of Roman terraces on the hills around Sancerre. When planting, they generally sought out hillsides near a river and close to a large town. As Romans were obsessed with the aromas of wine, they often planted herbs and other plants in the vineyards, hoping that the vine would absorb and pass on these flavors and aromas into the grapes.

When Christianity began to spread like wildfire through the Loire Valley region in the third century AD, vineyards were well established from Bituriga (modern-day Bourges, not far from Menetou-Salon) to Portus Namnetum (modern-day Nantes, in the Muscadet region). The new Christians began planting vines, often near their places of worship, along the riverbanks of the Loire. As this young religion began to grow and become more institutionalized, early monasteries began to plant their own vineyards inside or near their compounds, and to make wine. Today, some of the premier vineyards sites are on hillsides formerly planted by these early Christians.

PART II: POST-CLASSICAL HISTORY

All good things must come to an end, they say, and no exception was made for the Roman Empire’s hold on Gaul. Although they repelled Atilla the Hun and his forces at Orleans in 451 AD, the military campaigns and attacks on the other borders of their empire had left them weakened. When the Frankish king Clovis won key victories against them just a few decades later, they were done. It had been a good run, and they were leaving behind the foundations for a great civilization that would follow. And for wine lovers, they left behind the beginnings of a vital and important wine region. By 582, Sancerre was already known as a prestigious vineyard, and the Anjou was not far behind.

For the next few centuries, several tribes and confederations took at shot a conquering the rich valley surrounding the Loire river with varying degrees of success. The Saracens came fully loaded from the south and were stopped near Poitiers in 732 by a coalition of Frankish forces. The Vikings brought their longboats up the Loire and laid waste to Tours in 853 and then to Angers a few years later. But no invader was as persistent (or as successful) as the historical arch enemy of the French, the English.

During the Hundred Years War from 1337 to 1453, the Loire was the rope in a brutal tug of war between the English (who believed they had a legitimate claim to France) and the French, as they were now known after the division of Charlemagne’s kingdom. For much of that time, the Loire was the dividing line between English-held France north of the Loire (including Paris) and French-held France south of the Loire. By 1422, the French king south of the Loire (known as Le Dauphin until 1429) was the eventual Charles VII. Charles led a sort of nomadic court that moved between castles on the Loire, but his castle at Chinon was his favorite. The most remembered event of this period is almost certainly the arrival at his castle at Chinon of a teenage girl named Jeanne on February 23, 1429. Joan of Arc, as she is called today in English, claimed to have received a vision from God that she was to lead the French forces in an assault on Orleans, an important city held by the English and Burgundian forces. Her vision also told her that with her help, Charles would be crowned as king of all France in the cathedral of Reims, the historical site of French coronations. Jeanne and Charles had accomplished both of these things by July of that same year. Unfortunately, her visions told her nothing about being captured by the English and burned at the stake in Rouen in May of 1431.

PART III: THE RENAISSANCE

While most people know the Loire Valley as the Garden of France, named for the fertile lands along its riverbed, it is also known as the Valley of the Kings. While castles had been standing for centuries in the Loire by the time the Renaissance arrived, they were almost universally fortified castles meant for defense. The most important of these is the Chateau d’Angers, a massive castle of dark, brooding black shale with a drawbridge, expansive moat, and multiple points of attack on the invading English as they rowed up the Loire. With the arrival of the Renaissance, French kings became drawn to the Loire Valley by the mild climate, abundant hunting grounds for wild boar and deer, and excellent wine and provision, and many settled on the region to build their fairytale castles. The castles at Langeais and Montsoreau (the only castle built directly on the Loire riverbed) were among the first to be built. The more famous castles of Chenonceau (built over the river Cher) and Chambord (a 440 room “hunting lodge”) would follow. With the construction of the royal chateaux came other castles built by minor royals, aristocrats, and wealthy merchants attempting to elevate their status. Today, there are over 1,000 castles in the Loire Valley, not including numerous other large edifices that would pass for castles to us mere mortals.

With the arrival of the French kings and their noble courts came a renaissance of sorts in winemaking in the Loire Valley. Kings had their favorite grapes planted near their castles to provision their court and their large banquets. Winemakers worked to earn the right for their wines to be served at the royal table. Wines from the Anjou, the Touraine, the Saumurois, the Sancerrois, and the Nantais gained a reputation for excellent quality, and kings in both Paris and London served them at court. Some dictated that only Anjou or Saumur wines be served in their castles.

By the 16th century, the Breton grape, now known as Cabernet Franc, had a foothold in Chinon and was considered one of the most important wines of Europe. Chenin Blanc was already planted in vast swaths throughout the valley, as was Folle Blanche. Loire wines were already being exported at this time and merchants in England and the Netherlands imported vast quantities of these wines, dramatically helping to grow the vineyard area.

PART IV: IT WAS ALL GOING SO WELL UNTIL…

Between the late 1700’s and the late 1800’s, three major events had devastating effects on the growth of the Loire wine growing region. The Terror, the awful period during the French Revolution where many suspected royalist sympathizers were murdered, saw the desecration of many important royal, cultural, and religious sites in the Loire. As castles, monasteries, and large landowning gentry held the largest volume of vineyard land, these lands went unused for many years after the eviction (and, in some cases, deaths) of their landlords. While most peasants still had a bit of vines for personal consumption, the bulk of the region slowed to a snail’s pace in terms of production.

The second event, or rather development, was the advent of newer means of transportation such as trains. Because of the Loire’s geographic position, it was relatively easy to ship wines via boat to England, the Netherlands, and other markets. In addition, its proximity to Paris meant a large domestic market almost at its doorstep. With the arrival of the train system, wines from the Rhone, the Languedoc, and Bordeaux could easily be shipped north to Paris and to the ports in the north of France, thus creating unwelcome competition for the wines of the Loire.

The most calamitous event, however, was the arrival of the Phylloxera blight in the late 1850’s. Between this period and the mid 1870’s, over 40% of the vines of France were devastated by an aphid known as Grape Phylloxera. Fortunes were ruined, the vines of entire villages were wiped out, and the economy of the Loire (and all of France) took a significant hit. It wasn’t until the arrival of Phylloxera-resistant American rootstock in the mid 1870’s that the blight came to an end.

PART V: WORLD WARS I & II

Aside from the painful loss of thousands of its sons it sent to fight in the trenches of Verdun, the Loire was fortunate to escape the devastation of World War I that turned large tracts of France in the Meuse, the Marne, the Ardennes, and regions to the east into virtual lunar landscapes. The region was used, however, by American forces as a sort of technical and logistics base camp with “forts” and installations ranging from Montoir-de-Bretagne (near Nantes) to Romorantin. The advance guard of engineers and logistics officers who preceded the main American Expiditionary Force operated to a large degree out of the Loire and set up depots, overnight factories, and other operational centers with the help of local workers. When the main American force arrived, many of them were staged out of the Anjou (over 60,000 U.S. soldiers) and the Cher river valley in towns such as Noyers-sur-Cher, Gièvres, and Saint Aignan.

Immediately after the armistice to end WWI was signed near Compiègne on November 11, 1918, American troops began withdrawing from the zone and were sent south and west toward the ports where boats would eventually arrive to take them back to America. Many of these troops spent several weeks in the Loire Valley until orders were given to proceed to the ports of Bordeaux or Brest in Brittany. While many troops slept in tent garrisons, many were lodged in homes, barns, primitive wineries, warehouses, and town halls. Traces of their excitement at the end of the war are evident in graffiti left on the walls of some of the buildings in which they stayed, including on the barn at Domaine Jean-Francois Merieau in the Touraine. My own great-grandfather, a sharecropper from rural Tennessee, was lodged in the Cher village of Vignoux-sur-Barangeon in the home of a man named Marcel Girard, a fact he noted in the notebook he used while in France. Traces of World War I are hard to find these days in the Loire, but they are there, if you know where to look.

World War II, however, was another story entirely. When German Panzer tanks emerged from the woods and rolled into the town of Sedan, France from just-conquered Belgium on May 13, 1940, the inhabitants of the Loire must have figured that it would take months to reach the region. Just 5 weeks later, however, the German army appeared across the Loire river from Saumur where cadets who had only been at the Saumur Military Academy for 3 months were the only ones left to fight. Many of them didn’t know that a cease-fire had been called the day before by Marshal Pétain. After 3 days of heavy fighting, the Wehrmacht entered Saumur on the morning of June 21, 1940.

For the next 4 years, the Loire belonged to the Germans. During the negotiation and signing of the Armistice on June 22, 1940, France, and the Loire, was divided into two sectors by the ligne de démarcation (demarcation line). The first was the Zone Occupée (Occupied Zone), the German-controlled zone in the north which included Paris and all of northern France including the Loire regions of the Nantais, the Anjou, much of the Touraine, and the Sancerrois. The second was the Zone Libre (Free Zone) or, as it is sometimes called, the Vichy Zone, as the town of Vichy served as the main administrative center for this southern zone. The Loire wine regions of Saint-Pourçain and the Côte Roannaise were in this free zone as was the rest of the Loire to the south.

The demarcation line followed the Cher river and bisected the famous Chateau de Chenonceau, a castle built over the Cher. This region of the Loire, and the region around the town of Bourges (just southwest of Sancerre), became known as ideal places for French citizens (and sometimes Allied spies) to hide and take their chance at crossing into free France under cover of nightfall. It became common for families in the north, including Paris, to send their children south to live with relatives while they stayed and worked in the occupied zone. Many of these children would have crossed the Cher at night within sight of the Chateau de Chenonceau, in what must have been a surreal experience.

The Loire was relatively peaceful until the weeks just after the Allied landing in Normandy, when the Germans heavily defended the main bridge crossings over the Loire. Traces of these battles can be found all throughout the Loire Valley. Bullet holes can still be seen on some buildings. Memorials are set up near important bridges to commemorate the Allied soldiers and French resistance fighters who lost their lives while trying to take them back from the Germans. The demarcation line is marked in Montrichard and other villages as a reminder to schoolchildren of the role the region played in shuttling their fellow countrymen to safety.

Decades of peace have followed the end of WWII. The Loire has rebuilt, and today the region is a thriving center for tourism, farming, viticulture, and industry. On December 2, 2000, UNESCO named a section of the Loire between the villages of Chalonnes-sur-Loire and Sully-sur-Loire as a World Heritage Site.

PART VI: THE LOIRE TODAY

At the beginning of this (hopefully relatively painless) disquisition, I said that the Loire has it all. I’ve been visiting and working in the Loire now for almost two decades, and I find that the mashup of all of the history we just covered (and we barely touched the surface) and the pleasures and conveniences of the modern-day Loire can come together in one day, in one village, in one hour, in one place.

You should try it sometime. Drive into Chinon on a Saturday morning and park your car along the Vienne river before setting off for the outdoor market on the Place du Général de Gaulle. Fill your bag with the most intense wild strawberries you’ve ever tasted, a dozen fresh oysters harvested that morning on the coast west of Nantes, fresh goat cheese and salted butter from the cheesemonger, and a handful of dark red cherries from a local orchard. As you leave the market, walk down the rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau and pop in at Alain Ondet’s butcher shop for local charcuterie before walking down the street to buy a baguette and a local apple tart made with sweetened red wine at Le Fournil du Chateau bakery. As you walk up the hill with your bounty, stop at a wine shop for a bottle of local rosé and allow yourself to be talked into a 10-year-old bottle of Chinon to take home with you.

As you settle down with your picnic on the hillside overlooking this ancient town, notice the narrow alleyways built during the Middle Ages for man and horse only. Let your eyes explore all the detailing on the Renaissance-era buildings fashioned from the brilliant white limestone of the Loire. Watch as a student walks out of her apartment building that was formerly a nobleman’s house during the Renaissance, and then a convent in the 17th century, and then abandoned for 30 years after the French Revolution, and then a hospital in the late 1800’s. As you look at the castle where Joan of Arc knelt before Charles VII, allow yourself to wonder what it must have been like in that room on that day. What would France be like today if she hadn’t had the courage to tell a king how he should conduct a war?

As you taste that 10-year-old bottle of Chinon that you decided to drink in France and not share with the neighbors back home, taste the ground of this venerated region. Remind yourself that the way the wine tastes in your glass on this day and at this hour is, in part, because the Romans conquered Gaul, because monks planted more vines after they left, because the Vikings didn’t stay, because Joan of Arc had guts, because the kings of France protected and promoted this vaunted wine region, because someone, somewhere decided to plant Breton which would later come to be known as Cabernet Franc, and because the winemaker, famous or not, made the decision to respect the traditions of the past and take care of the heritage he or she was given.

And if all of that appeals to you, I think you’ll like the wines of my portfolio. They are made by real farmers whose hard work has put them at the top of their appellations. They farm organically, and in many cases, biodynamically, and they make wines that taste like the place from which they come.

Nothing more, nothing less.

JD