A Few Stories About How and Where Great Wines Are Born

Part I. Bordeaux

You can read Chapter 1 here…

Chapter 2. Château Latour

Why Is Château Latour Considered One of the Greatest Wines of Bordeaux?

The story of Château Latour began long before the famous 1855 Bordeaux Classification. As early as the seventeenth century, the lands surrounding the old tower along the Gironde were already considered among the finest sites of the Médoc, thanks to their unique gravel soils and proximity to the river. It was here that an estate gradually emerged which would later become a symbol of Bordeaux’s most structured and long-lived wines.

But the story of Latour is not only the story of a great wine. It is also the story of the draining of the Médoc marshlands, Dutch hydraulic engineers, ancient trade routes, and the transformation of seemingly worthless wetlands into one of the world’s most celebrated wine regions.

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☝️ Historical Note

Bordeaux existed as a wine region long before the draining of the Médoc marshlands. Wine from these lands had been exported since the Middle Ages, especially to England. At the time, the principal wine-growing areas were:

  • Graves—south of the city of Bordeaux
  • Entre-Deux-Mers—between the Garonne and Dordogne rivers
  • Saint-Émilion and Pomerol on the Right Bank

These regions stood upon drier soils, required no vast and costly drainage works, and had already been producing wine long before the arrival of the Dutch engineers.

Particularly important was the region of Graves, where vineyards had existed since the twelfth century. It was there that Château Haut-Brion emerged—one of the earliest celebrated wine estates of Bordeaux and the subject of one of our future stories.

When Dutch engineers first began draining the marshes of the Médoc in the seventeenth century, no one yet spoke of great wines. The land was initially regarded simply as future pasture and farmland.

Yet along the gravel rises beside the Gironde Estuary, the first vineyards slowly began to appear. In time, these sites would prove to be the finest terroirs of the Médoc.

A schematic map of the seventeenth-century Médoc showing marshlands, early drainage canals, and the gravel rises along the Gironde where the great vineyards of Bordeaux would later emerge

After drainage, everything changed

Once the Dutch began building their canal system, excess water gradually disappeared, the gravel soils began to dry, and ideal conditions for viticulture emerged.

It was then that the Médoc slowly began transforming into the region we know today. In later centuries the great estates of Château Latour, Château Lafite Rothschild, and Château Margaux would arise here. But in the seventeenth century, no one could yet imagine that these marshlands would one day become the heart of great Bordeaux.

In many ways, the Dutch engineers effectively uncovered an entirely new wine province

The finest sites of the Médoc lie closest to the river

At first this seems paradoxical: proximity to water usually suggests the danger of flooding. Yet the Gironde possesses a unique feature—alluvial gravel ridges. Over thousands of years, the river deposited gravel, sand, and stones along its banks. These ridges rose slightly above the surrounding marshland. Once the Dutch began draining the area, these gravel “islands” proved ideal for vineyards.

A close view of the gravel soils of the Médoc. Deposited long ago by the ancient courses of the Garonne and Dordogne rivers, these stones absorb heat during the day and slowly release it to the vines throughout the night

Gravel acts as a natural radiator

Large gravel stones warm rapidly during the day and slowly release heat throughout the night. This is especially important for Cabernet Sauvignon, a variety that thrives in warmth and requires a long growing season to ripen fully.

The marshes protected the future vineyards

Another paradox. While the Médoc remained marshland, there were few large villages, land prices remained extremely low, and vast tracts could be purchased at once. As a result, when the land was drained, large estates emerged. This is one of the reasons the Médoc became known for expansive vineyard properties, unlike Burgundy with its fragmented holdings.

The earliest vineyards of the Médoc were often planted on former pastureland

This was no coincidence. Shepherds and grazing animals instinctively favored the driest ground—places where water drained more quickly. Those same sites would later become some of the region’s most celebrated vineyards.

In the Médoc, water is always nearby—but never harms the vine

There is a local saying in these lands:

“In a good Médoc vineyard, you can always hear the water”

One such place was a small rise near the river where an estate would later emerge under the name Château Latour.

Lord B—t continued reading the captain’s old journal, carefully turning the brittle pages.

“…Several days later

By evening we had travelled farther upriver. The Gironde here becomes calmer, and the banks rise slightly higher. Marshes still stretch along the water, but from time to time dry gravel rises appear among them.

Upon one of these rises I noticed an old tower. It stood close beside the river—heavy, square, built from dark stone. From the water it could be seen from far away. Around the tower stretched fields and scattered trees, while below, nearer the river, damp meadows began once more.

The old riverside watchtower on the Gironde — built during the medieval period to oversee the trade route to Bordeaux. Centuries later, this gravel rise would become the site of Château Latour

I asked the engineers whether they knew what tower this was. One of the French boatmen accompanying us upriver answered before they could.

An old watchtower, monsieur. Once they kept watch over the river from there.

He pointed downstream.

Every ship bound for Bordeaux passes this place.

I studied the hill more carefully. It stood noticeably higher than the surrounding sites, and the grass there grew thicker.

Monsieur van der Meer also stopped and observed the site for a long while. Then he said:

Now here is a remarkable site.

What do you mean? — I asked.

He bent down and gathered a handful of soil.

The ground here is nearly ready already. Proximity to water, gravel, and a slight slope. Once the marshes around it are drained, hills like this will become the most valuable soils of all.

I asked what might one day be grown there.

The engineer smiled faintly.

Anything that prefers dry soil. One day, a fine estate will rise around this hill.”

Dutch engineers laying out the first drainage canals of the Médoc. With maps, stakes, and narrow ditches, the transformation of marshland into the future vineyards of Bordeaux had already begun

💡 The tower seen by the captain was built around 1330–1350. At the time, Aquitaine—including Bordeaux—was under the rule of the English Crown. The region was an important trading center, especially for the export of wine to England.

The tower served both defensive and observational purposes: controlling river traffic, protecting the shoreline from pirates and possible attacks, and acting as a watchpoint along the vital commercial route to Bordeaux.

Early river trade in Bordeaux. By the seventeenth century, wines from these lands were already being shipped along the Gironde to England, Holland, and other European ports, gradually turning Bordeaux into one of the great wine-trading centers of Europe

Its location was not chosen by chance. The tower stood upon one of the highest gravel rises in the Médoc—where the land was drier and more stable than the surrounding marshes. In some places, the gravel layer there reaches a depth of ten to twelve meters.

In French, the word for “tower” is “la tour.” In medieval documents the site was sometimes referred to as “La Tour de Saint-Lambert,” after the local parish.

In time, the celebrated wine estate Château Latour—literally “The Estate by the Tower”—emerged upon this site. The original tower itself did not survive in its medieval form. The structure visible on the estate today is a later reconstruction built during the seventeenth century upon the foundations of the old fortification.

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💡 The later history of the estate

Medieval period 14th–15th centuries

Originally, the lands surrounding the tower belonged to local feudal lords connected to the parish of Saint-Lambert. At this stage, no famous wine estate yet existed there.

15th–16th centuries—the first vineyards

Following the Hundred Years’ War, the lands gradually passed into the hands of Bordeaux nobility. Among the first known owners was the family of Jean de Chauvigny, a notary and adviser to the Parliament of Bordeaux. During the sixteenth century, he acquired a significant portion of the lands around the tower. It was under this family that vineyards first began to be planted systematically.

One of the earliest vineyards of the Médoc, planted on the dry gravel rises near the Gironde during the sixteenth century—long before the region became famous throughout the world

17th century—the beginning of a wine reputation

By the seventeenth century, the estate was already known for producing good wine. During this same period, the name La Tour gradually evolved into the estate’s identity. This coincided with the drainage of the Médoc and the expansion of vineyards.

Wines from the lands surrounding the future Château Latour began appearing in English trade records and wine inventories. Yet at the time they were rarely identified by estate name. More often they were referred to simply as “wine from Pauillac.”

middle of XVIII-century wine merchants

Rain drifted slowly across the Thames embankment, mixing with coal smoke and the smell of wet timber from the docks. Ships from Bordeaux had arrived several days earlier, and the merchants’ warehouses near the river were already crowded with barrels marked Medoc, Graves, and Pauillac.

Inside a candlelit tasting room above one of the wine merchants’ offices, several men are sitting and standing around a heavy oak table. Glasses, ledgers, and shipping invoices lay scattered between them. One of the clerks had just drawn wine directly from a freshly opened barrel.

Eighteenth-century London wine merchants tasting “wine from Pauillac” delivered aboard the latest ships from Bordeaux. It was in merchant houses like these that the international reputation of the great wines of the Médoc slowly began to emerge

The oldest of the merchants lifted his glass toward the candlelight.

This one is from Pauillac? — he asked.

The clerk nodded.
Yes, sir. Arrived with the last convoy from Bordeaux.

The merchant studied the wine carefully before tasting it.

It is darker than the Graves wines, — he said at last. And more severe.

Another man laughed quietly.
Too severe for London gentlemen?

No, — the merchant replied. — Not severe enough to frighten them away. But firm enough to survive the voyage.

The others nodded. That mattered greatly. Many lighter wines lost their freshness during transport across the Channel, especially in warmer months. But the stronger Médoc wines seemed to improve after travel and time in barrel.

One of the younger traders opened a ledger.

The Bordeaux brokers are already asking higher prices for wines from these gravel lands near the river. Not by much yet—but enough to notice.

How much?

Perhaps twenty to thirty percent above ordinary claret in a good vintage.

The older merchant swirled the wine again.

And are people willing to pay it?

The younger man smiled.
The English always pay more when they believe a wine will outlive them.

Soft laughter moved around the room.

Near the window stood another cask bearing only a simple marking:
Vin de Pauillac.

No château name. No grand label. No classification.

That world had not yet arrived.

And yet, among the London wine merchants, the reputation of these wines was already beginning to grow.

One of the merchants tasted the wine once more and said quietly:

This is not a wine for impatience.

Outside, beyond the fogged windows, the Thames continued carrying ships, barrels, and fortunes through the heart of London—just as the Gironde carried them out of Bordeaux.

Even then, long before classifications and critics, the market had already begun to understand something important:

certain gravel soils beside the river produced wines that aged differently from all the others

18th century—the rise of a great estate

True fame arrived later, when the estate passed into the hands of Alexandre de Ségur, owner of several future great estates of the Médoc. He became known as the “Prince of Vineyards” (Prince des vignes). Under his stewardship, Latour became one of the most prestigious wines of Bordeaux.

► In 1855, when the famous Bordeaux Classification was created for the Paris Universal Exposition, Château Latour was included without hesitation among the highest rank—Premier Grand Cru Classé.

► During the twentieth century, the estate changed ownership several times. In the 1960s it was acquired by the British entrepreneur Pearson, and in the early twenty-first century control passed to the French businessman François Pinault and his Artémis group.

Today the vineyards of Château Latour cover approximately ninety hectares, and its wines are considered among the longest-lived and most structured in Bordeaux.

…Modern merchants. London, present day

Rain once again drifted across the city, blurring the lights along St James’s Street and in the windows of old wine merchants’ offices that had traded with Bordeaux for generations. The docks had long disappeared, the barrels were gone, and ships no longer unloaded claret beside the Thames. Yet inside one of the historic British wine houses, the ritual itself had changed surprisingly little.

A group of buyers, critics, and senior merchants sat around a long tasting table beneath soft white light. Instead of candles there were discreet lamps; instead of handwritten ledgers — laptops, vintage reports, and market spreadsheets. Thin crystal glasses stood in neat rows beside bottles marked only with small white labels:

Pauillac. Barrel sample. New vintage.

A modern tasting of Château Latour at one of London’s historic wine merchants. Over three centuries, markets, technology, and prices have changed dramatically, yet the wines of Pauillac are still judged above all by their ability to evolve over decades

One of the merchants swirled the wine slowly and looked at the others.

— The structure is serious this year, — he said. — Very Latour.

Another nodded.
— The tannins are firmer than last vintage. But the gravel speaks clearly.

The youngest analyst at the table glanced at a pricing sheet.

— The release price will probably exceed last year’s by ten to fifteen percent.

Nobody seemed surprised.

Outside, collectors in New York, Hong Kong, Singapore, and Zurich were already waiting for the first market offers. Some buyers would never open the bottles at all. Others would cellar them for decades.

One of the older merchants lifted his glass and smiled faintly.

— It’s amusing, — he said, — that three hundred years ago London merchants were saying almost exactly the same thing.

— What do you mean?

He leaned back slightly.

— They complained the wines from Pauillac were too severe when young… too structured… too expensive compared to ordinary claret.

Soft laughter moved around the room.

— And now? — someone asked.

The merchant looked again at the glass.

— Now we call those qualities greatness.

For a moment the room fell quiet.

Beyond the windows, modern London moved through the rain much as the old port city once had. Markets had changed. Bottles had replaced barrels. Critics, scores, auctions, and investment funds now surrounded wines that eighteenth-century merchants simply called vin de Pauillac.

And yet the essential question remained almost unchanged: how long would this wine need before it finally revealed itself?

On the table beside the tasting notes lay a small pricing report.

In the 1750s, a barrel of wine from Pauillac might cost only modestly more than ordinary Bordeaux claret.

Today, a single bottle of Château Latour from a great vintage can sell for hundreds—sometimes thousands—of pounds.

But the merchants around the table understood that people were no longer paying only for wine.

They were paying for time, rarity, memory, and the long reputation of a gravel hill beside the Gironde.

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Entry from the captain’s journal

“…By evening we returned to the ship. From the river, the gravel hill with its tower could be seen even more clearly. Below it the Gironde flowed slowly onward, while along the shore the first stakes already marked the future canals.

The shepherds will probably laugh for many years yet at the idea of draining these lands. Marshes dislike change, and water rarely retreats willingly. But the Dutch are stubborn men. They are accustomed to arguing with the sea—to them, a marsh is merely a question of time and the correct slope of the land.

One day the water will surely disappear. Canals will cut through the meadows, the gravel rises will become drier and warmer, and the land considered worthless today may prove among the most valuable in the region.

And perhaps vineyards will one day appear around the old tower by the river…”

Left: the ship’s journal in the hands of a seventeenth-century Dutch captain, among the first to record the shores of the future Médoc. Right: the same pages centuries later in the library of the collector-lord of Blackwood Hall, where the history of Bordeaux comes alive once again among old bottles and forgotten archives

Lord B—t carefully closed the notebook and remained silent for some time, remembering the gravel hills of the Médoc he had seen during his journey to Bordeaux several years earlier.

Then he murmured softly in French:

Parfois les grands vignobles naissent d’un simple fossé de drainage.
(— Sometimes great vineyards begin with a simple drainage ditch.)

Modern-day Château Latour in Pauillac. The vineyards on the gravel soils beside the Gironde and the estate’s iconic tower still recall how the former marshlands of the Médoc gradually became one of the world’s greatest wine regions

He smiled faintly and returned the journal to its archival box. Nearby, upon the table, the bottle bearing the name Latour still stood waiting.

The lord thought that now might be the perfect moment to open it.

The wines of Château Latour, much like the history of the Médoc itself, rarely reveal themselves early.

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mbabinskiy@gmail.com

To be continued…

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