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anotherhumaninthisworld · 2 years

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Contemporary descriptions of the Robespierrist execution compilation

(from description closest in time to the execution to the one furthest away)

Today, Monday afternoon, Robespierre and his 21 conspirators are taken to the Revolutionary Tribunal to have their condemnation confirmed, because, being outlaws, their trial is over. It is decreed that they will be put to death at Place Louis XV, today Place de la Révolution. They were taken there and passed along rue Saint-Honoré and everywhere they were insulted by the people, indignant at seeing how they had deceived them. And they had their heads cut off at 7 o'clock in the evening. In 24 hours it was done; they hardly expected to die so quickly, those who wanted to massacre 60 000 men in Paris. This is how God lets the scoundrels, at the moment of executing their projects, perish. Robespierre was the soul of the conspiracy with another villain, Couthon, who assisted him. It is said that he wanted to recognize himself as King in Lyon and in other departments and marry Capet's daughter. How can a private individual put such a project in his head? Ambitious villain, that's where your pride has led you. With him dying as leader of the conspiracy, everything falls with him. Journal de Célestin Guittard de Floriban, bourgeois de Paris, sous la Révolution, présenté et commenté par Raymond Aubert (1974) page 437-438. Cited in Comment Sortir de la Terreur - Thermidor et la Révolution. Diary entry July 28 1794.

It was around six o'clock in the evening that the tyrant and twenty-one of his principal accomplices left the Conciergerie to advance towards the scaffold. They were in three tumbrils: Hanriot, drunk, as usual, was beside Robespierre the younger; the tyrant was next to Dumas, the instrument of his fury; Saint-Just sat close to the mayor of Paris; Couthon was in the third tumbril. Hanriot and Robespierre the younger had their heads smashed and were covered in blood; Couthon had a bandeau; the tyrant had his whole head, except his face, bandaged, because he had received a pistol shot in the jaw. It is not given to a man to be more hideous and more cowardly: he was dull and downcast. Some compared him to a muzzled tiger, others to Cromwell's valet, for he no longer had the countenance of Cromwell himself. All those around him had, like him, lost their audacity. Their baseness added to the indignation against them. We remembered that, at least, the conspirators who preceded them had known how to die. They did not even have the strength to speak to each other, nor to address the slightest word to the people. The crowd was innumerable; the accents of joy, the applause, the cries of: A bas le tyran! Vive la République!, imprecations of all kinds resounded from all sides along the way. The people thus avenged themselves for the eulogies commanded by terror, or for the homage usurped by a long hypocrisy. It was about half past seven when the traitors arrived at the Place de la Revolution. Couthon was executed first; then Robespierre younger; the head of the tyrant was the penultimate, and that of Fleuriot Lescot the last. They were shown to the people, who made the air resound with long prolonged cries of Vive la Convention! Vive la République!” Suite de journal de Perlet number 675 (July 30 1794)

From 11 Thermidor — Yesterday, around half-past seven in the evening, the twenty-two conspirators arrived at the place of execution, Place de la Révolution, amid prolonged and unanimous cries of Vive la République! Robespierre the elder had his head wrapped in a bandage and bloodied from a pistol shot he had fired at himself when he saw himself abandoned by the traitors Hanriot had arranged for him. This one was also all scarred on the face and injured in the arms from the defense he had put up against the gendarmes responsible for arresting him. Only Lebas, former deputy, killed himself. The heads of Robespierre, Hanriot, Dumas and a few others were shown to the people, who, during the whole course of the journey of these infamous conspirators, from the Palais de Justice to the scaffold, bore witness to them in the most energetic of all its indignation and all its horror. Courrier républican, July 30 1794

It was the evening before last, at seven o'clock, that Maximilien Robespierre, his brother, Saint-Just, Couthon, Hanriot, Fleuriot, mayor, Payan, national agent, Dumas, Lavaleyte, Coffinhal, Bernard, Gobeau, Geney, Vivier, Simon, Laurent, Wouarmé, Forestier, Guérin, D'Hazard, Bourgon and Quenet, municipal, were executed. Lebas had killed himself. Never have we seen such a crowd of people as at this performance. Women, children, old people, all of Paris was there. Who could return the joy which burst on all faces? In all the streets through which the conspirators passed, in the whole extent of the Place de la Révolution, everywhere there was only a unanimous cry: Ah! the scoundrels! Vive la République! Vive la Convention! and all the hats were up in the air in satisfaction. Eyes were particularly fixed on Maximilien Robespierre, Couthon and Hanriot, whose heads were bloody from the wounds they had received at the time of their arrest. Annales de la République française, July 30 1794

The torment of a tyrant is truly a feast for the world. The French have made it a decade-long celebration, and the joy of yesterday proved how long and strong the oppression had been under which all souls, all hearts, all spirits had groaned. Yes, public joy developed yesterday in all its fullness and guarantees us freedom forever. Neither the punishment of Louis XVI, nor that of his wife and of all the traitors who have since suffered the fate of treason, nor any celebration, not even those of victories, had had so many spectators, had inspired a joy as felt, as universal, as expansive as the misery of Robespierre, Couthon, Saint-Just, etc. How horrible must the long passage from the Palais de Justice to the Place de la Révolution, in front of an immense people applauding, shouting incessantly: Vive la République! Perish the traitors and the hypocrites always speaking of virtue, and having crime in their hearts! have been for them (if they were still susceptible to any shame). If they had been able to see in the National Garden all the citizens returning from their torture, throwing themselves into each other's arms, embracing each other, congratulating each other on finally being delivered from an odious yoke, crying out , repeating everywhere: ”Finally, we are free, we will no longer poison our thoughts, our intentions; our mistakes will no longer be turned into crimes; the interior of our households will at least be a safe haven against the espionage of denunciation; sweet intimacy, brotherhood, friendship and their consoling charms will be returned to us; the tyrant is no more!” If they could have seen all this, I say, they would have shuddered with rage at having so grossly deceived themselves by counting on a perished people to serve their projects of domination and subjugation. Journal des hommes libres de tous les pays, July 31 1794.

Robespierre and his principal accomplices had been arrested towards the middle of the night between 9th and 10th Thermidor. They were handed over to the executioners on the morning of the 10th. The procession left the Palace of Justice, and set off about five o'clock in the evening. Never had one seen, on the passage of the tortured, such an influx of people. The streets were clogged. Spectators of all ages and sexes filled the windows; men were seen climbing up to the tops of the houses. Joy was universal. It manifested itself with a kind of fury. The more the hatred felt for these scoundrels was suppressed, the louder the explosion. Everyone saw in them his enemies. Everyone applauded drunkenly, and seemed to regret not being able to applaud more. One thanked Heaven, one blessed the Convention. The horsemen who escorted the patients shared the universal joy; one even saw, in this meeting, what one had never seen before: these horsemen waved their sabers in sign of joy, and accompanied this movement with the cry: Vive la Convention! Eyes were especially attached to the cart which carried the two Robespierres, Couthon and Hanriot. These poor things, mutilated and covered with blood, resembled bandits whom gendarmes had surprised in a wood, and could therefore only seize by wounding them. Robespierre, extraordinarily pale, and covered with the same coat he wore on the day when he had dared to proclaim, at the Champ de Mars, the existence of the Supreme Being, lowered his eyes, and leaned his head, which looked horribly deformed by the dirty, bloody linen that enveloped him, on his chest. Hanriot, having no clothing but a shirt and a waistcoat, was covered with mire and blood. His hair, his bloody hands, the eye which was only held together by filaments, formed a picture so disgusting and so appalling, that one didn’t dare to stare at him for a long time. “Here he is, here he is,” said the people, “as he was when he left St-Firmin, after having cut the throats of the priests there!” Robespierre the younger and Couthon were likewise disfigured by bruises, and covered with blood. The horrible deformity with which all these unfortunates presented themselves to the eyes of their fellow citizens at the last moment of their lives, appeared to even the least religious man a chastisement from heaven. Men, in fact, who after having bathed in blood, were completely defiled by descending to the tomb, testified in a striking manner that divine justice exercised its terrible vengeance on them, and wished to inspire great horror in their assassinations. The procession having arrived in front of the house where Robespierre was staying, the people compelled the executioners to stop. They obeyed. A group of women then performed a dance in front of the cart carrying Robespierre. When the patients had reached the middle of the former royal street which leads to the execution, a woman of middle age, neatly dressed, and showing by her manners and her countenance an education above the common, sprung from the crowd , seized with one hand the bars of the cart where Robespierre was, and threatened him with the other, and cried to him: "Monster spewed up from hell, your supplication intoxicates me with joy. I have only one regret, you don't have a thousand lives to enjoy the pleasure of seeing them all snatched one after the other. Go away, scoundrel; descend to the tomb with the curses of all the wives, of all the mothers!” Robespierre had without a doubt deprived this woman of a husband or son. He looked languidly at her, and without saying a word, shrugged. On the scaffold, Robespierre had a new suffering to endure. The executioner, before stretching him out on the board where he was going to receive death, abruptly tore from him the bandage placed on his wounds. The lower jaw was thus detached from the upper jaw, causing waves of blood to flow, which made the head of this unfortunate man a monstrous object. When this head had been cut off, it presented the most horrible picture that one can paint. Hanriot had to suffer a no less painful torture: one of the executioner's servants, before he mounted the scaffold, brutally tore out his eye where he had been wounded. Each falling head excited loud applause. The number of those executed that day was twenty-two. Histoire de la conjuration de Maximilien Robespierre (1795) page 221-225. The descriptor, Galart de Montjoie, was 48 years old by the time of the execution. According to wikipedia, he was forced to go into hiding in Bièvres in April 1793 due to writing royalist pamplets. This means he might not have actually been an eye witness during thermidor.

At four o'clock in the evening the sinister procession left the courtyard of the palace. Never have we seen such an affluence of people. The streets were clogged. Spectators of all ages and sexes filled the windows; men were seen climbing up to the tops of the houses. Joy was universal. It manifested itself with a kind of fury. The more the hatred felt for these scoundrels was suppressed, the louder the explosion. Everyone saw in them his enemies. Everyone applauded drunkenly, and seemed to regret not being able to applaud more. Eyes were especially attached to the cart which carried the two Robespierres, Couthon and Hanriot. These poor things, mutilated and covered with blood, resembled bandits whom gendarmes had surprised in a wood, and could therefore only seize by wounding them. It was noticed that Robespierre had, in going to scaffold, the same tailcoat as he had had on the day when he had proclaimed the existence of the Supreme Being at the Champ de Mars. It is difficult to paint his appearance. Nothing recalled the idea of the supreme power which he exercised twenty-four hours earlier. He was no longer the tyrant of the Jacobins, nor the insolent ruler of the Convention; he was a wretch, whose face was half covered by a dirty and bloody linen. What one perceived of his features was horribly disfigured. A livid paleness completed his frightful appearance. Whether he was overwhelmed by the pains caused by his wounds, or whether his soul was disheartened by the remorse caused by the memory of his crimes, he affected to have his eyes lowered and almost closed. It was in this condition that he crossed the streets and Rue Saint-Honoré. Arriving in the middle of the former royal street, he was pulled from the lethargy in which he was by a circumstance which deserves to be preserved by history. A woman was waiting for him in this place. She was neatly dressed and of middle age. Seeing the tumbrel carrying Robespierre, she pushed through the crowd and seized the bars of the tumbrel with one of her hands. The countenance and expression of this woman announced that she had received the best education. Attached to the tumbrel by one of her hands and shaking Robespierre with the other, she cried out to him: "Monster spewed up from hell, your supplication intoxicates me with joy." At these words, Robespierre half opened his eyes and shrugged his shoulders. “Abominable monster,” continued this woman, ”I have only one regret, you don't have a thousand lives to enjoy the pleasure of seeing them all snatched one after the other. ” This new apostrophe seemed to importune Robespierre; but he did not open his eyes. Then the brave woman said to him as she left him near the scaffold: ”Go away, scoundrel; descend to the tomb with the curses of all the wives, of all the mothers!” It has been presumed that Robespierre saw this woman deprived of a husband or a son. Her painful accents must have penetrated his soul. This moral torture was no doubt very weak to expiate crimes as enormous as those of which Robespierre had been guilty; but it was at least a satisfaction for sensitive souls to learn that this monster had experienced it, and that it had been able to increase the horror of the too severe torture which he had to undergo. When the tumbril arrived at the foot of the scaffold, the executioner’s assistants lifted down the tyrant and laid him on the ground until it was his turn to meet death. One observed that during the time his accomplices were being executed, he didn’t show any sign of sensibility. His eyes were constantly closed, and he didn’t reopen them until he felt himself transported to the scaffold. They say that in perceiving the fatal instrument he uttered a painful sigh, but before receiving death, he had a cruel suffering to endure. After having thrown away his tailcoat, which was crossed over his shoulders, the executioner teared off the bandage that the surgeon had put on his wounds. The lower jaw was thus detached from the upper jaw, causing waves of blood to flow, the head of this poor thing wasn’t more than a monstrous and disgusting object. Once this appalling head had been cut off, and the executioner took it by the hair to show it to the people, it was the most horrible image one can imagiene. Les Crimes de Robespierre et de ses principeax complices (1797) page 121-126. The descriptor, Nicolas Toussaint Le Moyne Des Essarts (1744-1810), was 49 by the time of the execution. This is clearly a variation of Montjoie’s account to some extent.

Where shall I find the true colors with which to paint a picture of the public happiness that existed in the midst of this terrible spectacle, to describe the explosion of burning joy that spread and resounded as far as the scaffold itself? His name, accompanied by curses, is in every mouth; they no longer called him the Incorruptible, the virtuous Robespierre, the mask has fallen away. They execrate him, they blame him for every crime of both committees, they surge forward from the shops, boutiques, and windows. Rooftops are covered with people, thronged by a huge mob of spectators drawn from every class of society, all with only one desire, to see his death. Instead of sitting on a dictator’s throne, he is half-sitting, half-lying in the tumbrel that also holds his accomplices, Couthon and Hanriot. The noise and tumult that accompanies him is composed of a thousand cries and mutual congratulation. His head is enveloped in dirty bloodstained bandages; only half of his pale, ferocious face is visible. His mutilated, disfigured companions look less like animals than wild beasts caught in a trap. Even the burning sun cannot deter the women from exposing the lilies and roses of their delicate cheeks to its rays; they want to see the executioner of these citizens… On the scaffold, the executioner, as if spurred by the public’s hatred, roughly tears away the bandage covering his wounds; he roars like a tiger; his lower jaw snaps off from the upper jaw and blood spurts out, changing this human head into the head of a monster, the most horrible sight imaginable. His two companions, no less hideous in their torn, bloodstained clothing, were the acolytes of this famous criminal, for whose suffering no one can summon a vestige of pity… The crowd surged forward, so as not to miss witnessing the exact second when his head would go beneath the blade, that blade to which he himself had sent so many others. The applause lasted for more than fifteen minutes. 22 heads fell with his.” Le nouveau Paris (1797) volume 6 page 101-104. The descriptor, Louis-Sébastin Mercier (1740-1814) was 54 by the time of the execution. Note that he was actually in prison during Thermidor, and thus cannot really be considered an eye witness.

Taken to the Conciergerie, and a few hours later brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal, which was only to establish his identity, he (Saint-Just) was sent to the scaffold on the evening of 10 Thermidor (July 28, 1794). He marched to the execution with calm and firmness, casting his gaze disdainfully over the immense crowd which served as his escort, and seeming entirely insensitive to the vociferations of the multitude, as well as to the insults heaped upon him by some men who, a few days before, were his accomplices or the servile instruments of his crimes. When his guilty head fell on the scaffold, which he himself had so long watered with innocent blood, Saint-Just was still only 26 and a half years old. Biographie nouvelle des contemporains (1827) volume 18 page 558. The descriptor, Antoine Vincent Arnault, was 28 by the time of the execution.

The pen can only give an imperfect idea of what passed around this poor thing, from the tribunal, where his identity was ascertained, to the place where he satisfied the national vindictiveness. On this road, still deserted the day before when the condemned men passed by, everywhere he met the crowd who, to see him, crowded under the wheels of the tumbrel, slowing down its progress. There wasn’t a look that didn't strike him down, a mouth that didn't insult him, a fist that didn't rise to threaten him. The tongues, so long chained, were loosed; hatred had broken the silence which terror had commanded for twenty months; and as each had only a short time to satisfy such long resentments, each hastened to expectorate the curses heaped up for so long in his heart. Terrifying concert! We had never seen the example of such unanimity: no voice rose to pity him; no face expressed compassion; and yet he was in a pitiful state! A pistol shot had shattered his head, leaving him only enough life to suffer, to feel the pain of his wound and the terror of his inevitable fate. Isolated in the midst of his party, he did not even have the friends that crime gives. Struck with the same blow as he, his accomplices had no more pity for him than he had pity for them. As ferocious as everyone else, I ran to the place of execution, less, however, to feast my eyes on the sufferings of this monster than to convince myself with my eyes of the death of the one whose life threatened that of anything that had life. I ran there to seek certainty that he had not escaped like the day before. I found it. A cry which the pain wrung from him, when the device which covered his wound was removed, broke for the first and the last time the silence which he had kept for twenty-four hours; and at the same moment, from the same place where I had seen Danton disappear, I saw Robespierre disappear. That day did not stop the shedding of blood, but from that day, at least, innocent blood ceased to flow. Before Robespierre's head, several heads had fallen, and among others those of the proud Saint-Just, the sweet Couthon, the ignoble Henriot, and also that of Robespierre the younger, who, accomplice in his revolt, had not been of his tyranny. Public exasperation was so great on this day of revenge, that so generous a devotion, however odious its object, did not even obtain pity. No circumstance, no incident, moreover, gave the execution of Robespierre a character different from that which it was to have had. Danton is ennobled in his last moments; Danton mounted as a hero the horrible trestles to which crime had led him; his courage turned it into a theatre. There was only a scaffold for Robespierre. The universal feeling about the end of this forever execrable man is quite well expressed in this naive epitaph: “Passerby, do not mourn my fate; If I lived, you would be dead.” Souvernirs d’un sexagénarie (1833) volume 2 page 105-108. The descriptor, Antoine Vincent Arnault, was 28 by the time of the execution.

”During the fatal journey, Robespierre’s head was wrapped in a bloody linen, so that you could see only half of his pale and livid face. The horsemen of the escort showed him with the points of their sabers to people eager to see him in this horrible state. When he had arrived at the scaffold, the executioners ripped of the bandage that supported his lower jaw, and snatched from him, with the deepest pain, the only cry that he had uttered during his long agony. This man, that his enemies without cease had represented as shy and even heartless, retained his firmness until the last moment, and fell under the blade without having given the slightest sign of terror. Saint-Just, whom Robespierre draggad with him in his downfall, died with his full constance. None of the outlaws showed weakness. With each cut of the blade, the applause testified the ferocious joy of the spectators, since long too accustumed to eagerly contemplate scenes of carnage. Maximilien Robespierre was 35, Saint-Just 26, Robespierre the younger the same age.” Historie complète de la Révolution française (1834) volume 5 page 325-326. The descriptor, Pierre-François Tissot (1768-1854), was 26 years old by the time of the execution.

The scaffold had been erected in the Place de la Révolution. An immense crowd covered the streets where the procession was to pass, as well as the place of execution. Among Robespierre's enemies, who followed the cart in which he was dragged, and who overwhelmed him with insults and imprecations, Carrier distinguished himself by this continual and furious cry: Death to the tyrant! Robespierre and those who shared his destiny showed perfect impassivity. When he had ascended the steps of the scaffold, the executioner violently tore from him the apparatus which covered his wounds, and delivered him up for a time, pale, disfigured and bleeding, to the gaze of the multitude. 21 of his supporters were guillotined that day with him. We give their names in the lists of the Revolutionary Tribunal. Portrait de Robespierre by anonymous, cited in Histoire Parlamentaire de la Révolution Française (1834-1838) volume 34 page 96-97

I can never forget the day of his execution. The crowd that lined the streets he passed through was immense, and the shouts of joy and vengeance were deafening. I could not make my way to witness his last moments; but it is said to have been a most horrid sight. The executioner tore off the dressings of his fractured jawbone with such brutal violence, that his roar of agony, like that of a wounded lion, or rather tiger, was heard at an incredible distance. Recollections of Republican France 1790 to 1801 (1848) page 317. The descriptor, J.G Millingen, was twelve years old by the time of the execution.

I saw the carts containing the doomed men with their escort proceed on their way through the Rue Saint-Honoré to go to Place de la Révolution. The immense throng obstructed the streets and was an obstacle to the rapid progress of the procession, but the prevailing feeling was not only that of unanimous rejoicing, but of deliverance, and yet this feeling did not venture to break out in words and escape from the hearts so long oppressed until it had become a recorded fact that the ”head of Robespierre had really fallen on the Place de la Révolution.” The baskets of the executioner were then carries away to the cemetery of the Madeleine, and interred in the place designated as the tombe capétienne. Memoirs of Barras, member of the directorate (1895) volume 1 page 235

#happy deathday robespierrists!#frev #frev compilation #french revolution #thermidor #maximilen robespierre #augustin robespierre #robespierre #saint-just #hanriot #couthom #georges couthon #lebas

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vinhosemsegredo · 8 months

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Salon, o caminho da singularidade

Em 2010, quando Aubert de Villaine ganhou o prêmio de homem do ano da revista inglesa decanter, ligou para Didier Dupond, presidente da maison de champagne Salon. Vilaine, então responsável pelos vinhos do Domaine Romanée Conti, é apreciador da champagne, que há 120 anos subverteu a ordem: criou uma champagne de uma uva, um terroir e uma safra (Krug faria isso com Clos de Mesnil 75 anos depois).…

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hellobyeokgo · 1 year

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Hyde de Villaine Ygnacia 2020

這款酒是 Hyde 和 de Villaine 兩家族的合作其中 Aubert de Villaine 曾是 Domaine de la Romanee-Conti 的共同主理人而這款酒則是 HdV 推出的 Pinot Noir

剛好在 Perrine's Wine Shop 有賣這款酒只有 2020年份的又剛好室友要畢業去其他州工作於是就把這支開了

9:12 開瓶味道香酒體外觀清澈透亮顏色偏淡味道微酸微澀

9:34 味道稍微綻放決定把半瓶倒入醒酒器稍後片刻覺得入醒酒器的明顯香很多但喚醒速度沒有太快決定把整瓶倒入醒酒器

9:39 嚐起來好甜！

10:08 濃郁果香卻不失優雅滑過喉嚨時絲滑的柔順感帶一點點微微的辛香感

10:25 香味超展開口感依舊絲般順滑完全沒有要結束的跡象似乎是個開瓶再久也不會過老的酒

非常好喝

#喝 #wine

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bechdelexam · 2 years

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Marie Corriveau truly became a villain. Gossip generated legend, which tattooed itself into Quebec’s consciousness, first through oral history, then in the mid-nineteenth century, by the works of popular historian Philippe Aubert de Gaspé. After that, other writers and artists took inspiration from her story, each embellishing it to suit themselves. In the end, little remained of the real woman and few, if any, knew that she had lived in a marriage so brutal that she had gone so far as to beg the commanding British officer in the area for permission to escape it. The bruises and dislocations inflicted on her by Louis Dodier conveniently escaped public memory

#:(

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deprotagonisten · 6 years

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SOMM: Into the Bottle

In SOMM: Into the Bottle (te zien op @NetflixNL) zien we tien hoofdstukken, waarin we nog meer te weten komen over sommeliers en het wijnproces. Onze #recensie ☆☆☆☆. #review #SOMM #wijn #wine #film

De documentaire SOMM: Into the Bottle is het vervolg op SOMM. We zien tien hoofdstukken, waarin we nog meer te weten komen over sommeliers en het wijnproces. Uiteraard zijn het de sommeliers die het verhaal aan elkaar praten. Wat wij van SOMM: Into the Bottle vinden, lees je in onze recensie.

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#Aubert de Villaine #documenataire #Film #Jason Wise #Jean Trimbach #Jean-Louis Chave #Netflix #review #Somm #Somm: Into the Bottle #wijn #wijnfilm

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dancal13 · 5 years

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Day 8 – We’re Not Quitters

You’d think by now, there would be dread when heading out to a wine tasting, especially the day after the wine auction. But not when it’s somewhere new and yet to be discovered. That was Hyde de Villaine (HDV). You would miss it if you didn’t know it was there.

Very small facility, very small production (under 5000 cases). Good news for us, Tom and Jen knew about it and even then, only after driving by it twice, we were able to find the facility.

We were greeted by Nate, who was the only one working the facility while we there and appeared to hold nearly every job but wine maker. He was our tour guide and tasting host. He knew his shit and was very passionate about it. The more you do these tasting the more you appreciate those with this passion. They recognize your interest and often improve and extend your tasting. It was no different here, as our 5-wine tasting became 10 (Rosé not pictured)

HDV is the result of a partnership between a famous wine owner from France, Aubert de Villaine (maker of Domaine de la Romanée-Conti) partnering with a very well-known grower in Napa, Larry Hyde (Hyde Vineyards). The result were some great chardonnays and pinots. The winery is built in what looks like a small warehouse (pictured above), metal sheeted walls, one ramp and what looked to be only two doors. Barrels, equipment, tasting room and office tucked into what appeared to be a building that was only 40 yards deep and 70 yards long – at most. Susan was sold, we will be receiving deliveries bi-annually going forward. If we open a bottle of the Ygnacia (Ignacia) when you are hanging with us, I am pretty sure you will be pleased as well.

We headed back to Yountville for lunch, and this time with a reservation. Much to Brian Wilbur’s disappointment the previous Monday, we were not able to get into RH. But Tom and Jen knew well in advance that we were planning to attend. Reservations were made, and we were sat at 12:30p.

Most of you know that Restoration Hardware, is a high end furniture store, what you may not know is that they have now opened 3-4 restaurants in front of some of their snootier locations; New York, Chicago, LA and Yountville. They offer a simple menu, but really deliver good food, presented in a really cool dining room.

The dining room, itself was filled with chandeliers and six 100-year-old transplanted olive trees. Lots of young beautiful people waited on us, I think you are fired when you turn 30.

Of note and discussion. Susan and Tom both ordered the shaved ribeye French Dip sandwich which Tom fantasizes about often. It did not disappoint, nor did the burgers Jen and I had ordered. (Ps. Suzy also had bubbles and I had a sauvignon blanc - just to keep it going and still not quitters)

The food was delicious, but very rich, I think we passed on dessert, but delirium had set in and I am not sure. RH is about two blocks away from Thomas Keller’s French Laundry, a bucket list restaurant for me, pictured below covered in ivy with a cute couple. Will have to save our visit for another trip.

We probably could have gone back to the cottage from there as we had done so much, but seriously as previously mentioned, We Are Not Quitters.

Our next stop was Trinchero (pronounced Trin – Karo) to taste their wines and enjoy their wine experience.

Super cool facility found between St Helena and Calistoga on Highway 29. Relatively new. There were some nice wines, but nothing that screamed at us. If you were hosting/guiding someone new to wine, this would be a great experience for them.

We did the barrel tasting, which included surprise, surprise a barrel tasting (pictured below), though a bit staged for coolness.

Of quick note, Trinchero is a family owned winery. They made most of their billions with another winery that you might recognize - Sutter Home. Known for White Zinfandel and box wine. This would typically be a reason not to go see a winery, but Jen has a friend in the business who works for Trinchero and recommended that we try their tasting experience.

With all their money they decided to build a high-end experience with better grapes. If they figure out the wine, and likely they will spend the money to do so, this might be worth revisiting. Afterward, we drove about 10 minutes North on Hwy 29 to Calistoga. Supposedly a cute little town, Suzy and Jen checked out a few stores, Tom and I wandered and waited. 30 minutes later we headed back to Stag’s Leap.

Our last night in Napa was upon us. We were actually more mentally and physically spent on dining out than tasting wine. Mostly because we are professionals when it comes to drinking wine, not that I’m bragging about this, ok maybe just a bit. Our restaurant for the evening was Basalt in downtown Napa and only a block or so away from Angele from two nights prior.

We went light - salads, seafood and maybe a little risotto, but obviously healthy see the pictures, I’m pretty sure there is something healthy making it green.

I think Tom and Jen got dessert, we passed. We got home around 9:30, there was a half-bottle of the Fay Cabernet calling my name, ever so gently from the dining room table. I passed and headed to bed. Suzy quietly mentioned that she would be okay skipping our last tasting the next morning.

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olo-mag · 2 years

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【玩物養志】2021 全球最貴葡萄酒榜單

滿足葡萄酒迷對葡萄酒學問的好奇心，全球最權威的葡萄酒搜索網站 Wine-Searcher 每年都舉行「全球最貴葡萄酒榜單」嚴選當屆名釀。月前公佈的最新榜單中，被譽為「酒王之王」的布根地 Domaine de La Romanée-Conti（簡稱DRC）落敗於「權力新星」Domaine Leroy，被後者以單枝超過港幣約 25 萬的「Domaine Leroy Musigny Grand Cru」高價奪走寶座。

Leroy 勝出，可歸功於年逾八旬的「驕傲女王」Lalou Bize-Leroy 多年堅持。生於葡萄酒世家的 Lalou，深受其擔任 DRC 聯席莊主的父親 Henri Leroy 薰陶，從小喜歡待在酒窖學藝，20歲已承繼家族酒商生意 Maison Leroy，42 歲更接任 DRC 聯合主席，前途無量。但 Lalou 天性特立獨行、充滿野心，1988 年、已屆花甲的她冒險開創全新品牌 Domaine Leroy，1991 年又因與個性穩健的 DRC 聯席莊主 Aubert de Villaine 理念不同，毅然退任。

自那時起 Lalou 就作風大膽：既力排眾議為 Leroy 引進「自然動力栽種法」（Biodynamic Viticulture），使葡萄蘊釀出獨有的風土味；又不與葡萄農每年固定簽買酒合約，年年親選高品質新酒，繼續入窖陳釀；每遇偉大年份，又為酒莊儲存部份佳釀酒，等 20 至 30 年後再重新投入市場，以作銷售投資等。

兵行險着的手法，為 Leroy 累積了豐沛的故事、歷史和實力，殺出血路。現時 Lalou 家族已座擁布根地最大的葡萄酒收藏酒窖（約 200 萬瓶），形同「葡萄酒博物館」；另外，她又根據配額制，只將酒賣給認為懂得欣賞的人，非有錢就喝到，如身份與智慧的象徵，像她鍾愛的畫家達利所言：「有品味的人嘴裡喝的，不是葡萄酒，而是秘密。」

撰文：K.C. 圖片來源：Domaine Leroy官網

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿活過不白過 Follow us on IG：https://bit.ly/2yjkquY ＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ #OnlyLiveOnce #玩物養志 #2021全球最貴葡萄酒榜單 #葡萄酒 #DomainedeLaRomaneeConti #DomaineLeroyMusignyGrandCru #MaisonLeroy #HenriLeroy #LalouBizeLeroy #自然動力栽種法 #BiodynamicViticulture

#玩物養志

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themoderngothicheroine · 6 years

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A Biography of Ann Radcliffe

Ann Radcliffe, born July 9th, 1764 in London, is one of the most important writers in the history of Gothic literature, and her works are considered the codifiers of the genre - the absolute examples. Her most famous novels are The Romance of the Forest, The Mysteries of Udolpho, and The Italian.

She grew up in Bath as Ann Ward, but became a Radcliffe upon her marriage to William Radcliffe in 1787. Mr. Radcliffe was a journalist who spent much time out of the home, which led to the beginnings of Radcliffe’s horror writings.

When Radcliffe began writing, the Gothic was considered tasteless and sensational, with no literary importance. But her writings would begin to change the perception of the horror novel among the literary circles of the day with her handling of the supernatural and the torment of her beautiful heroines. As Walter Scott wrote in 1824:

“Mrs Radcliffe, as an author, has the most decided claim to take her place among the favoured few, who have been distinguished as the founders of a class, or school. She led the way in a peculiar style of composition, affecting powerfully the mind of the reader, which has since been attempted by many, but in which no one has attained or approached the excellencies of the original inventor…”

Her first novel took place in the Scottish Highlands, The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne. It involved the typical tropes of the romances: a beautiful young woman, a vow of vengeance, a cruel man lusting after power and the maiden, and young virtuous men. In fact, the novel even begins with a line calling out to these tropes:

“On the north-east coast of Scotland, in the most romantic part of the Highlands, stood the Castle of Athlin….”

When she published The Castles and her next novel A Sicilian Romance, she did so without her name attached, whether for her reputation as a woman of good regard, or as a writer in an age where the Gothic was ridiculed. When these novels did well, she attached her name to her next publication, The Romance of the Forest, and to her most famous work The Mysteries of Udolpho.

The Mysteries of Udolpho was a great success, so much so that became a featured plot point in the work of a contemporary of Radcliffe, Jane Austen. Mysteries of Udolpho followed the tragic misadventures of Emily St. Aubert, an orphan taken in by her cold aunt and subjected to cruelty and plots by her aunt’s villainous husband. Jane Austen’s Northanger Abbey parodied the Gothic works, subjecting them to her wry wit via her naive and easily impressed upon heroine.

An imagined meeting between Jane Austen (Anne Hathaway) and Ann Radcliffe (Helen McCrory) in the movie Becoming Jane (2007).

Radcliffe inspired many new works in the Gothic genre, from the parody of Northanger Abbey to Matthew Gregory Lewis’ novel The Monk. In turn, The Monk would inspire Radcliffe’s last work published in her lifetime, The Italian, said to be not her most popular novel, but her best. While Lewis’ novel was far more sensational, full of illicit passions and demons, Radcliffe preferred more realistic and psychological motives for her characters.

After the publication of The Italian, having earned herself a nice living off of them, Radcliffe left the world of writing. She settled into a quiet life with her husband, writing in her off time, but never publishing. One novel of her’s was published three years after her death in 1823, Gaston de Blondeville, but it never became as well known as her other works.

Ann Radcliffe led a quiet life, with little of it being known, as she had no interest in being part of society. Many biographers have been frustrated by lack of known facts, but it adds an air of mystery to the woman who was the creator of the Gothic romance genre.

Ann Radcliffe’s Works:

The Castles of Athlin and Dunbayne

A Sicilian Romance

The Romance of the Forest

The Mysteries of Udolpho

The Italian

Gaston de Blondeville

Audio Books

What is your favourite novel of Ann Radcliffe’s?

Your doting

Miss A

#gothic heroine #gothic romance #gothic #lifestyle #advice #education #biography #ann radcliffe #the mysteries of udolpho #the italian #the romance of the forest #a sicilian romance #the castles of athlin and dunbayne #gaston de blondeville

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dijonbeaune · 2 years

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Vougeot pour Cîteaux : la quête du siècle !

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#Abbaye de Cîteaux #Arnaud Orsel #Aubert de Villaine #Bourgogne #Château du Clos de Vougeot #Clos Vougeot #Côte-d’Or #fondation du patrimoine #grand cru #Tastevin #Vin #Vougeot

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topochinesvino · 4 years

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Have you visited HdV Wines in Napa? If you haven’t you’ve been wasting your time! This winery is an epic partnership between two wine Titans: Aubert de Villaine of the one and only Domaine de la Romanee-Conti (he’s the “dV” in the name) and Larry Hyde, Carneros grape grower extraordinaire (the “H”). HdV makes wines that are a perfect blend of Carneros terroir and old world Burgundy wine making style. Their Chardonnays, Pinot, Syrah, and Cab are all excellent. With a tasting room right off the southern tip of Silverado Trail, it couldn’t be easier to get to. ———————————————— #hdvwines #hydedevillaine #carneros #carnerosava #larryhyde #chardonnay #pinotnoir #syrah #napacab #cabernetsauvignon #napavalleywinery #napawinery #wine #winestagram #instawine (at Napa, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5Vf2FEnFNM/?igshid=agp728ksqtm2

#hdvwines #hydedevillaine #carneros #carnerosava #larryhyde #chardonnay #pinotnoir #syrah #napacab #cabernetsauvignon #napavalleywinery #napawinery #wine #winestagram #instawine

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vinhosemsegredo · 4 years

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Todos sabem a importância que um produtor tem na Borgonha, sobretudo em vinhos mais artesanais. Cada uma das principais comunas da Côte d´Or tem suas estrelas, verdadeiros especialistas em determinados terroirs. Entretanto, há um trio praticamente imbatível que pela grandeza de seus vinhos, marcaram seus nomes na história definitivamente. São eles: Henri Jayer, Madame Leroy (Domaine Leroy e Auvenay), e o emblemático Aubert de Villaine (Domaine de La Romanée-Conti). Jayer, talvez o mais talentoso, não perpetuou seu trabalho diretamente após sua morte em 2006, mas os vinhos que ainda restam, são de uma profundidade a toda prova e altamente valorizados em leilões mundo afora.

Neste contexto, num agradável almoço na Osteria del Pettirosso, pudemos analisar lado a lado vários embates entre esses gigantes, numa experiência incrível cheia de prazer e emoções. O terroir da Borgonha foi certamente exaltado no mais alto grau de sofisticação, principalmente a comuna de Vosne-Romanée onde segundo dizem: não existem vinhos comuns …

a escolha de Solfia

Como na Borgonha os vinhos começam pelos brancos, dois domaines excepcionais abriram o almoço com extrema classe, Coche-Dury e Domaine Leflaive. Começando pelo Corton-Charlemagne Coche-Dury é bom lembrarmos a exclusividade deste vinho, apenas um terço de hectare (0,33 Ha). Esta safra 2010 é um dos mais perfeitos dos últimos tempos com 98 pontos. O vinho é de uma mineralidade incrivel, um frescor imenso, e um textura que lembra os grandes Chablis Grand Cru. Foi muito bem com o crudo de lagostins cobertos de ouriço (foto abaixo). Os sabores de maresia se infusionaram à mineralidade do vinho numa explosão de sabores.

pratos muito bem executados

Já num estilo de Beaune, mais denso, o belo Chevalier-Montrachet de Domaine Leflaive, uma de suas especialidades, na safra quente de 2006. São dois hectares de vinhas antigas num trabalho preciso de barricas. O vinho mostra um perfil exuberante em aromas denotando mel, compota de pêssegos, fino tostado, e algo cítrico. Um Chevalier mais denso que o normal, lembrando um pouco o terroir de Batard-Montrachet. De todo modo, uma textura rica e muito expansivo em boca. Foi muito bem com o arancini recheado de burrata (foto acima). Texturas muito harmoniosas de ambos. Pratos talentosos nas mãos do Chef Marco Renzetti.

e agora José?

Este é um embate muito difícil, pois o DRC Echezeaux é o mais delicado do Domaine, indo de encontro ao estilo Jayer. Por outro lado, esta garrafa do Echezeaux 90 de Henri Jayer estava impecável, muito bem conservada, e pouco evoluída, dificultando ainda mais a decisão. Não que o Echezeaux DRC estivesse com algum problema, mas o Henri Jayer estava perfeito. Ao mesmo tempo que mostrava delicadeza, tinha uma força, um frescor, impressionantes. Dois Echezeaux de livro, mostrando toda a elegância deste terroir.

a vida não está nada fácil …

Agora mudamos o terroir, mas o nível continua altíssimo. O Richebourg DRC estava muito bem nesta bela safra 2002, mas deu azar de pegar um Richebourg Leroy quase perfeito com 97 pontos, sendo o melhor entre todos os Richebourg deste ano. O vinho explode em cerejas quase em licor, alcaçuz, e finas especiarias. Os dois vinhos apresentam ótimo potencial de guarda, embora no caso do DRC possam haver garrafas melhores. De todo modo, mais uma disputa sensacional.

evolução dentro do mesmo terroir

É claro que num primeiro momento, o Romanée-St-Vivant 90 parece ser uma escolha óbvia em termos de safra. No entanto, não tinha a mesma exuberância da dupla de Echezeaux de mesmo ano comentada a pouco. Já tinha seus toques de evolução denotando sous-bois, notas florais, e algo terroso, mas sem muita vibração. Já o RSV 2007 embora jovem, tinha muita energia, muita fruta, alcaçuz, e especiarias, vislumbrando uma boa guarda. É uma safra acessível e muito agradável de se tomar jovem. Requer evidentemente, algum tempo de decantação.

algumas das especialidades de Marco Renzetti

Para acompanhar estas maravilhas alguns dos pratos do Pettirosso. O risoto zafferano com tutano, prato extremamente saboroso e absolutamente al dente, bem à maneira italiana. Outro prato interessante foi a fregola com porco preto, tudo num caldo de sabores marcantes. Esse foi melhor com os exemplares mais jovens, mais vigorosos.

jovens e de evoluções diferentes

A diferença entre os dois DRCs acima além do terroir, lieu-dit, são as safras relativamente jovens para este naipe de vinho. Começando pelo Richebourg 2008, estava extremamente evoluído para a idade, mas ao mesmo tempo delicioso, sobretudo nos aromas. Todos os terciários desenvolvidos com sous-bois, mineral, especiarias, toques balsâmicos, notas de café, uma delicia. Em boca, taninos totalmente polimerizados, muito macio, mas não de final muito longo. Houve claramente uma aceleração no processo evolutivo desta garrafa com previsão de apogeu para 2043 na crítica especializada.

Já no caso do Echezeaux 2011, evolução normal da garrafa com um vinho ainda muito jovem. Não está no topo da lista entre os melhores Echezeaux deste ano, mas é muito saboroso, equilibrado, com notas de frutas vibrantes como cerejas, toques florais e de alcaçuz. Deve evoluir por bons anos em garrafa, embora não tenha estrutura para uma longa guarda como acontece em safras mais destacadas. De todo modo, uma agradável promessa.

Moscato do sul da Itália

No final, tivemos a generosa doçura dos passitos italianos, especialmente este de Pantelleria, ilha pertencente à Sicília, bem próxima da costa africana. O solo é todo vulcânico na ilha com o cultivo da uva Zibibbo, mais conhecida como Moscato di Alessandria. As uvas depois de maduras, são colhidas e soleadas por algumas semanas em pedras vulcânicas, perdendo água e concentrando açúcares. Processo semelhante ao Pedro Ximenez nos vinhos andaluzes. Por sinal, os aromas intensos deste moscato lembram algo do Pedro Ximenez com toques de rapadura e bananada. Em boca, é menos untuoso que o PX, com doçura equilibrada e relativamente expansivo. Foi bem com a delicada Panna Cotta com calda de mel, encerrando o almoço.

Mais uma vez, meus sinceros agradecimentos a todos os confrades, sempre muito generosos. Pode ter sido nosso último encontro do ano, mas com essa turma nunca se sabe. Que 2020 seja repleto de eventos espetaculares como este e que a presença dos confrades seja maciça. Abraço a todos!

Mestres da Borgonha Todos sabem a importância que um produtor tem na Borgonha, sobretudo em vinhos mais artesanais. Cada uma das principais comunas da Côte d´Or tem suas estrelas, verdadeiros especialistas em determinados terroirs.

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