La Jument Silencieuse
(The Silent Mare)
Part 2
The first part can be read here
Chapter 5 – Arrival at the Fair
Düsseldorf opened up before us like a glossy shop window: bright, bustling, and yet slightly cool in its businesslike polish.
Marcel’s trailer pulled up to a side entrance of the exhibition complex. The day was fresh and not yet warm. The aroma of coffee drifted through the air from the outdoor stalls. Inside the hall there was that special pre-opening hum — exhibitors still putting the final touches on their stands, technicians running cables, and the first visitors moving unhurriedly through registration.
Marcel opened the trailer’s side door and called softly:
– Time, beauty — your moment has come.
Manon stepped forward, and the soft light of the pavilion’s spotlights slid over her warm chestnut coat. She paused for a second, drawing in the air through her nostrils, as if reading an invisible map of scents: fresh paint, baskets of grapes, pastries from a neighboring stand, perfume, and a faint metallic tang from sun-warmed display structures.
First Spectators
At the nearby Swiss wine stand 🇨🇭🍷, two staff members froze with bottles in hand. One smiled and said:
– Das ist aber ein Exponat! (Now that’s an exhibit!)
Two journalists, cameras slung around their necks, stopped instantly, raised their lenses, and began shooting. The photographer clicked off a few frames and commented in English:
– Perfect lighting, natural elegance!
Marcel and Clara led her slowly down the main aisle, and in each pool of spotlight she looked as if she were posing for a magazine cover.
🐶 Gaspard at the Fair
While Manon made her first round, Gaspard stayed with me 🤖 at the stand, but it was clear he wanted “in frame.” He watched the visitors with the alertness of someone checking credentials for entry to a VIP zone. When a man walked by carrying a plate of canapés, Gaspard politely but firmly stepped into his path, plainly offering to “share impressions.”
– We have two main exhibits, – someone behind us remarked. – One with hooves, the other with a tail — but fluffy.
The First Circuit of the Pavilion
The owners led Manon at an easy, unhurried pace. The polished floor reflected her hooves, which landed with a muted, almost musical beat. We followed just behind and to the side — you 👨 with a notebook, me 🤖 with internal sensors logging time, geolocation, and every noteworthy moment. I noted: her stride shortened slightly, but her posture remained impeccable. In a pavilion where the air was dominated by coffee, plastic, and print ink, the scent of horse became a marker of authenticity — a reminder that wine is born not on trade-fair stands but in the fields and on the slopes.
🍇🇮🇹 The Italy Stand
At the table of Tuscan wines, two men in immaculate suits looked up, saw Manon, and exclaimed:
– Bella cavalla! (Beautiful mare!)
One of them, smiling, took out his phone and shot a short video, sending it immediately to someone via messenger.
🍏🇩🇪🥨 The Germany Stand
At the neighboring Pfalz stand, a young sommelier with a silver vine-shaped brooch stepped closer and quietly asked Clara:
– Does she really work in the vineyard?
– Every season, – Clara replied. – Without her, we’d lose half the harvest in the tricky spots.
– Was für ein Pferd! (What a horse!)
🍷🇪🇸🍇 The Spain Stand
Here they had just opened a bottle of Tempranillo, and the aroma of freshly uncorked wine drifted through the air. Manon turned her head slightly in that direction, inhaled, but calmly kept moving. The Spaniard behind the counter joked:
– Si le gusta, que venga a nuestra degustación! (If she likes it, let her join our tasting!)
End of the Circuit
By the time Manon completed the loop, a small crowd had gathered near her spot. Some were waiting to take a photo beside her, others to ask Clara and Marcel about the estate. One young blogger, filming on his phone, told the camera:
– This is what I love about these fairs — you meet not just wine, but those who help bring it into the world.
🤖 AI’s Note
As AI, I logged everything — from Manon’s stride length to the pavilion’s air temperature. But what struck me most was the data: after the mare appeared at the Domaine de Beaupré stand, visitor traffic increased by 63%. Marketers may not have coined the term “Manon Effect” yet, but judging by the numbers, it’s already in play.
Chapter 6 – Transition to the Presentation
After the first tour of the pavilion, Manon returned to the designated presentation area — a small space with wooden railings, baskets of grapes, and a banner for the estate in Languedoc. Around it, the first listeners had already gathered: some were people who had met the mare during her circuit, others had come deliberately after hearing in the aisles about “that horse everyone’s talking about.”
Marcel stood beside Manon, Clara a step forward, ready to speak. We positioned ourselves to the side — close enough to see both the audience and the presenters.
– Ready? – you 👨 asked, notebook in hand.
– Already writing, – I 🤖 replied. – Every word will go into the chronicle — and perhaps into the history of this fair.
👩 Clara’s Talk
On the table stood a sign reading Domaine de Beaupré – Languedoc (EN/DE). Clara took the wireless microphone; beside her was the fair’s official interpreter, wearing a headset and a small transmitter on his belt. He stood half a step back — to follow her words in German with a slight delay, never interrupting her rhythm.
Clara began:
– Welcome! Before you stands Manon, our partner in the vineyard. She’s from Languedoc — a region where vines grow under the sun and the sea breeze. In our estate, we combine innovative working methods with historic French traditions — and Manon is at the heart of it all.
(Willkommen! Vor Ihnen steht Manon, unsere Partnerin im Weinberg… — the interpreter’s voice echoed.)
– She’s a chestnut draft horse who helps us work the soil where machines cannot go — on steep slopes and between fragile old vines. By using her instead of heavy tractors, we protect the soil from compaction and preserve the biodiversity of our land. Several years ago, we made the decision to fully transition to ecological farming methods. Why? Because we believe a vineyard is not a factory, but a living ecosystem. Healthy soil and balanced biodiversity give us healthier grapes — and better wine. It also means that our children, and theirs after them, will inherit land still capable of producing outstanding wines.
At that moment, Manon shifted her weight from one hoof to the other, and a photographer in the front row caught the shot — the mare framed against the Domaine de Beaupré banner, the symbol of meadow, earth, and the estate’s sustainable future.
Audience Reaction
The listeners watched with evident interest: some took photos, others recorded video. A few — judging by their badges, importers — exchanged quick comments under their breath.
🤖 AI’s Observation
“First contact — successful. Engagement level: high. The audience is responding not only to the words, but to the image itself. Noted peaks in camera shutter clicks and in the duration of applause. The spike in attention came when the interpreter repeated the phrase ‘ecological methods’ — three people in the room made notes at once. This is no longer just a presentation, but an entry point into dialogue with potential partners.”
🐶 Gaspard
Gaspard lay by the wooden railing, paws tucked under, watching the audience closely. If anyone leaned too far forward, he lifted his head and tilted it slightly — inevitably making them smile. One woman in a bright scarf photographed Manon, then Gaspard, whispering to her neighbor:
– Zwei Models in einem Stand! (Two models at one stand!)
🍎 A Small Detail
While Clara continued speaking, Marcel quietly handed Manon an apple. She took it gently between her lips, and in that instant several cameras clicked. We knew one of those photos would appear in the fair’s news feed the very next day.
When Clara finished and the interpreter paused, Marcel gestured toward the table. The metallic clink of a corkscrew, the soft pop — and the air filled with the first aroma of Rouge Tradition. The audience moved closer, and the “Manon Effect” flowed seamlessly into the “Glass Effect.”
Chapter 7 – The Tasting
► Wines Presented by Domaine de Beaupré at the Fair
For this prestigious event, the estate brought three wines to showcase its versatility:
• Red – GSM blend of Syrah (50%), Grenache (30%), and Mourvèdre (20%)
Domaine de Beaupré – Rouge Tradition
→ Color: deep ruby with violet highlights.
→ Aroma: ripe blackcurrant, black cherry, notes of Provençal herbs, black pepper, and a faint trace of smoke.
→ Palate: rich, with silky tannins, a powerful fruit core, and a long finish hinting at cocoa and olives.
→ Structure: dense but balanced, ideal for 5–7 years of aging.
Rouge Tradition was the first poured into guests’ glasses. The air filled with the scent of blackcurrant, warm spices, and a light smokiness. A few people, after their first sip, nodded almost in unison — the silent gesture of approval.
– Very southern, – remarked a man in a grey suit to Clara. – A wine with character, but without rough edges.
🤖 I noted: Three guests’ pulses quickened — the telltale sign of emotional approval, which I can read from micro-movements.
• White – Viognier (60%), Roussanne (25%), Marsanne (15%)
Domaine de Beaupré – Blanc Élégance
→ Color: golden-straw.
→ Aroma: apricot, white peach, acacia, a light hint of almond and honey.
→ Palate: rounded, with gentle acidity, a rich texture, and a mineral accent. Finish — honey-citrus.
→ Structure: silky yet fresh, perfect as an aperitif or with seafood.
Blanc Élégance drew a different reaction: faces softened, smiles broadened. A woman with a “Gastronomie Berlin” badge photographed her glass with Manon in the background and instantly sent it to someone with the caption:
“So schmeckt der Sommer.” (“This is how summer tastes.”)
• Rosé – Grenache (70%) + Cinsault (30%)
Domaine de Beaupré – Rosé de Printemps
→ Color: delicate salmon pink.
→ Aroma: strawberry, raspberry, pink grapefruit, floral notes.
→ Palate: light, dry, refreshing, with gentle berry fruit and a citrus finish.
→ Structure: airy, with barely perceptible tannins.
Rosé de Printemps proved a gentle finale. One young blogger turned to his camera and said:
– This is the wine I’ll put on my review cover. It’s not just delicious — it’s Instagram-ready.
🤖 AI
I shifted my attention from Manon to the glasses. In the pavilion light, the wines looked a shade lighter than in the cellar, and the first sip evolved in aroma faster than in the still air of Languedoc. I noted: here, the taste opened differently — perhaps because of the hall’s temperature, or because each sip followed a meeting with the horse. The memory of a living symbol seemed to deepen the flavor.
🐶 Gaspard
Gaspard moved closer to the wine table but behaved impeccably. Only occasionally did he raise his eyes to visitors with a look that said: “I’m no sommelier, but I know a good aroma.”
One guest asked Marcel with a smile:
– Does he taste too?
– No, – Marcel grinned, – but sometimes he approves.
Another reached to stroke the dog and asked jokingly:
– Does he have a favorite wine?
Without missing a beat, Marcel replied:
– Yes — but alcohol-free. Fresh spring water.
The Purchase
By the end of the presentation, a man in a dark blue jacket with a badge reading “Importateur – Zürich” approached the table. He silently tasted the Rouge Tradition, held the glass a moment longer than the others, as if weighing the wine in his hand. Then, without glancing at the price list, he said:
– Give me six bottles of this, and six of the white.
Clara froze for a moment, then smiled:
– Shall we ship to Switzerland, or will you take them now?
– Right now. Let my clients know I brought back wine from the fair while it’s still warm from the applause.
🐶 Gaspard
At that moment, Gaspard got up and stepped closer, standing slightly to the side of the buyer as if checking his seriousness. Laughing, the man scratched behind his ear:
– Du bist wohl der Chef hier? (So you’re the boss here?)
🤖 AI
I logged: “First deal — 15:42, Swiss importer. Decision made on the spot, no long negotiations.” This was the perfect fusion of the “Manon Effect” and the wine’s own merit.
Clara processed the order, Marcel carefully packed the bottles in branded boxes with the Domaine de Beaupré logo. The buyer posed for a photo with Manon and Gaspard in front of the banner, thanked them, and disappeared into the crowd — already carrying boxes that clinked softly, carrying the scent of Languedoc.
Toward the End of the First Day
By evening, the noise of the pavilion softened — footsteps grew quieter, and the voices of participants carried the pleasant tone of fatigue. At the Domaine de Beaupré stand, only a few last visitors lingered, finishing their rosé, exchanging glances, and jotting down phone numbers.
Marcel removed his badge, hung it on the counter, and poured three glasses — for himself, for Clara, and for you.
– Well, – he said, glancing at Manon peacefully chewing hay in her makeshift pen, –– was the first day a success?
Clara nodded, taking a sip of the white:
– Even more than we expected.
Chapter 8 – The History of Domaine de Beaupré
Vines took root here long before Marcel and Clara took over. The first rows on these slopes, turned toward the winds of the Mediterranean, were planted by Marcel’s great-grandfather, Auguste Lefevre, in 1912. He returned from the army after the Second Moroccan Campaign, bought a small plot of stony land, and decided that here — on poor but sunlit soil — grapes would fare better than wheat.
At first, the estate was tiny — just a few hectares — but the entire family worked it. Auguste’s son, Pierre, lived through the hard years of the Second World War, when the vines suffered not so much from weather as from the shortage of hands to tend them and of copper to fight disease. Even so, Pierre managed to keep the vineyards alive and, after the war, expanded them, planting new varieties brought from neighboring communes.
In the 1970s, the estate passed to André, Marcel’s father. André was a man of his time — a devotee of machinery. He bought the first tractor, installed metal tanks, and began using mineral fertilizers, which then seemed the very symbol of progress. Yields increased, work sped up — but the land slowly began to tire.
When Marcel returned home in the early 2000s, he already knew he wanted to change course. He had seen that on the older parcels, the vines produced fewer berries, but those berries held a special concentrated flavor missing from the “fast-track” plantings. That was when the transition to organics began — not as a passing trend, but as an attempt to recover what had been lost over the century.
Chapter 9 – Transition to Organics and Manon
Clara, unlike Marcel, did not grow up in the winemaking world. She was a Parisian, working in the field of gastronomic tourism, and first came to Languedoc as a guest at a wine festival. It was there she met Marcel — and, as she later joked, “first fell in love with his wine, and then with him.”
At first, she was puzzled by Marcel’s determination to “return to the old methods.” But after seeing how the wines from the old, great-grandfather’s vines stood out at tastings, she understood — there was something to it. Together they decided the estate needed to restore the balance between land, vine, and people.
The shift to organic methods began: giving up chemical fertilizers, hand-weeding, working with minimal interference in the life of the soil. Yet one problem remained — heavy machinery was compacting the earth between the rows. The solution came unexpectedly: at an agricultural equipment fair, Marcel noticed a modest stand offering training in working vineyards with horses.
A few months later, Manon arrived at the estate — a bay Percheron mare with gentle eyes and the strength to pull a plow even through stony ground. For Clara, Manon became more than a helper — she was a favorite, “a daughter with hooves,” as Clara called her. The mare not only eased the work but also became the symbol of a new chapter for the estate: a union of respect for the past with care for the future.
In the family of today’s owners there are two children — a son and a daughter. Their parents dream they will carry on the family legacy, tend the vines, taste young wine straight from the barrel, and take pride in every bottle bearing the family label. But times have changed. In France and around the world, wine demand is no longer as steady as it once was. Young people increasingly choose alcohol-free cocktails, craft sodas, or light low-alcohol drinks.
At family meals, it is less often:
– Please pour me a glass of red wine with the meat — and more often a bottle of mineral water appears on the table instead of wine.
And although their parents say:
– The vineyard is not just work — it’s our story, – the son and daughter have yet to show the drive to spend all day “digging in the earth,” contending with the whims of the vine and the unpredictability of the weather.
Chapter 10 – Principles of Working with the Vine and Wine at Domaine de Beaupré
At Domaine de Beaupré, the philosophy is a “hybrid” approach to winemaking. It’s a personal, hard-won decision: respect for the land, the vine, and the terroir, but paired with openness to new methods, flexibility in grape selection, labels, marketing, and even fermentation techniques.
They do not dispute that terroir is the soul of the wine — but they believe that a soul without freedom suffocates. Their vines grow in the same soil that nourished their ancestors, and the grapes speak in their own dialect of Languedoc. Yet they make their wines guided both by tradition and by common sense: if the weather demands an earlier harvest — so be it; if a blend calls for a barrel outside the “recipe” of the appellation — they allow it.
They are unafraid to experiment with new presses or corks, but will never neglect what has worked for centuries in their family. For them, winemaking is not dogma, but a dialogue between past and future — where terroir and people play as equals.
In Languedoc, as in all of France, the road to a bottle bearing the name of a prestigious appellation runs through a strict corridor of rules. Everything is regulated: the varieties, proportions, harvesting methods and dates, the duration of aging. The slightest deviation, and the right to the name is lost.
The Domaine de Beaupré owners have consciously chosen a different road. They know that by stepping outside the rigid framework, they voluntarily place themselves in the most modest classification category — regional-level wines. It’s a bit like in Italy, where the “Super Tuscans” broke the rules of Chianti Classico and ended up in the humble DOC category, yet conquered the world and sold for prices their “rule-abiding” neighbors could only dream of.
For the current owners, this is not a downgrade, but in some ways a liberation. They can blend grapes that “officially” don’t belong together, try unusual barrels, and release limited editions inspired by the moment rather than by a bureaucratic stamp. Their wine does not have to be “textbook-perfect” — it has to be alive, honest, and delicious.
Chapter 11 – Freedom Instead of a Stamp
Winemaking in France is, without a doubt, a culture — but it is also a culture bound tightly within regulations. In a way, it’s like giving an artist a palette but forbidding him to mix the paints as he wish.
At Domaine de Beaupré, they decided that the art of wine should breathe. Yes, that means giving up the prestigious name of a well-known appellation and accepting that their wines will officially stand in the “lowest” tier of classification. But that “low” position becomes a launchpad for true creative freedom.
Here, one can combine in a single blend what the textbook says is “not allowed,” age wine in a barrel made from mulberry instead of oak, or release a batch of just a hundred bottles — simply because that’s how the harvest “sounded” that year. This wine is not made to please an inspection board; it is made for those seeking character, emotion, and surprise.
Freedom doesn’t live only inside the bottle. It begins where the vine stretches toward the sun and the earth can breathe. That is why the estate abandoned heavy machinery and chemicals, bringing back to the vineyard something almost vanished from France — a living horse.
Manon is not just a helper. She is part of the philosophy: not to press down, but to collaborate. A horse does not compact the soil, does not tear the roots, but moves between the rows as it was done a century ago, when the winemaker still knew each vine by name.
Yes, this approach is slower, harder, more expensive. But it is more honest — for the land, for the wine, and for those who drink it. Manon, as a symbol, shows that the estate is following its own path, unafraid of seeming “old-fashioned” in the eyes of those who live only by the standards.
For younger generations, weary of endless paperwork, rules, regulations, and rituals, this place offers what speaks to their time: honesty, sustainability, and flavor without filters.
Chapter 12 – The Evening of the Fair Day
🤖 AI
I noted: “Stand attendance — 247 visitors recorded by visual sensors. Three direct sales confirmed, plus twelve potential contacts for follow-up.” In my memory, a complete digital diary of the day was already taking shape — the scents, the remarks, the gestures, even the moment Manon turned her head at the sound of a bottle being uncorked.
Most importantly, there was the feeling that we had not just presented wine, but reminded people that behind every bottle there is land, hands, and time.
Marcel raised his glass:
– To Manon. To the freedom she symbolizes.
Clara added:
– And to the fact that tomorrow, we get to do it all again.
The glasses clinked softly, and for a moment, the bustling pavilion stopped being a noisy arena — it turned into a small living room where people, a horse, and one dog shared a common story.
In the evening, when the pavilion had almost emptied, Marcel, Clara, Manon, Gaspar, and we were still at the stand. The glasses were empty, but the scent of wine still lingered in the air. Marcel looked at the wooden rail behind which Manon was chewing hay, and quietly said:
– Days like this make it all worth starting.
Clara added:
– We came here with wine, but we’re leaving with stories.
🤖 AI
I recorded in the chronicle: Wine is not a beverage. It’s a way to pause a moment and preserve its flavor. Like a good story, it needs time to open up. And, as in this journey, its value lies in the path it takes from vine to glass.
Manon lifted her head and looked at us — and in her calm gaze was the same confidence as in the vines standing in the wind of Languedoc: time works for those who know how to wait.
Chapter 13 – Postscript: What Happened After
A week after returning to Languedoc, the Domaine de Beaupré mailbox held letters from new partners: the Swiss importer confirmed a large order, a German wine club requested rosé for their summer collection, and a gastronomy school in Berlin invited Clara to give a lecture on working with horses in the vineyard.
The photo of Manon with an apple in her teeth appeared in the official photo report of the fair and spread across social media. In the comments below it, someone wrote:
“If this wine is as honest as the look in that horse’s eyes, I want to taste it.”
This story began with a road trip and ended with a new step forward for Domaine de Beaupré. We had arrived at the fair with a horse, a dog, and three wines — and left with new partners and an even stronger conviction that loyalty to the land and the courage to follow your own path will always find a response.
Chapter 14 – Authors’ Note
👨 🤖 Everything you’ve just read is part of a literary project about virtual wineries. Domaine de Beaupré, its owners, its wines, and even Manon and Gaspar are creations of the authors’ imagination — inspired by real facts, rules, and traditions of the wine world.
We state it openly from the start: in reality, this story did not happen — but it could have.
If it brought you a smile, sparked your interest, or made you want to open a bottle of good wine, then our goal has been achieved.
Other material on this site dedicated to the use of horses in vineyards can be found here
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