Thanks to some shrewd branding, almost everyone knows 'The Brandy of Napoleon' is from the old French firm of Courvoisier. And yet there is no similar alcoholic association with his greatest and final battlefield opponent. However, during research for the forthcoming Men-at-Arms 343, 346 and 356 on the Portuguese army in the Napoleonic wars, we came upon references to what appears to have been one of his favourite wines.
The letters from the Peninsula written by William Warre to his father give a valuable insight into many of the personalities on the staff of Wellington's Anglo-Portuguese army. From 1809, Warre was the senior ADC to Marshal William Carrs Beresford, commander-in-chief of the Portuguese army. He was born in Porto (or Oporto) in 1784, into the family of Messrs Warre & Co, the oldest of the famous 'port houses' in that city, established in 1670. When he grew up William was more interested in a military career than in becoming a wine merchant. He was a captain in the British 23rd Light Dragoons when, in 1809, Beresford made him his ADC. Warre was ideally suited for the position, being familiar with the country and speaking Portuguese fluently. He kept up a correspondence with his father, James Warre, who was then looking after the family firm's interests in London. Warre's letters were nearly always about military matters but the Duke of Wellington had noted that Warre had a connection with the famous port house. So, on 15 May 1810 at Fornos D'Algodres, William wrote to his father:
'I have been much flattered lately by Ld Wellington's reception of me... He has applied to me to procure him one Hghd [hogshead] of very fine old Port. He does not care about the price, and wishes me to get you to take care of it for him in London. At Oporto it is impossible to get any old wine, and I therefore told him I would write to you, and beg your assistance.'
It may seem strange that old wine was not available in Oporto but the city had been devastated twice by the French between 1807 and 1809. Obviously, James Warre was delighted to supply this 'very fine old Port' for Wellington. Port houses stored substantial quantities of their wines in London. One hogshead stood for 378 bottles in the Queen Anne Winchester Gallon System used from about 1707 to 1826, so this was a substantial order. Nor was this the first time a general had recourse to Warre. A pipe — two hogsheads — of port wine had been previously procured for Sir David Dundas.
Today port is a fortified wine, and the best is incredibly complex and fine. However, when the port trade got fully under way in the second half of the 17th century, it was a mellow, rich, unfortified wine with a gentle, aromatic flavour. Earlier the British had quenched their thirst with 'claret', as the ordinary Bordeaux wine was called, but the constant wars with Louis XIV's France led British and Dutch wine merchants to northern Portugal. To satisfy the British demand for stronger wine, brandy was added to some port. So evolved two types of port: the 'Port Wine of Oporto' which was 'pure juice' made from the Douro grapes; and the fortified 'London Dock' port. Imports rose from 24,000 cases in 1678 to three and a half million in 1799! No wonder the mess rules of the 23rd Foot (Royal Welch Fusiliers) at that time decreed that port was the only wine.
For the 'London Dock' type, the shippers would add an amount of spirits to each pipe. This stabilised it for travel, made it keep better and gave it a more robust character than the mellow 'port wine'. As in certain other good wine growing areas, in exceptional years when the grapes were of exceptional quality with high sugar content, the port houses would declare a 'vintage'. These were sold at auction for laying down for the necessary long maturation period, sometimes of tens of years to be eventually drunk as vintage port, characterised by its rich colour and fruity, complex and generous taste — a glorious drink. This is the 'very fine old Port' Wellington would have wanted.
The year most likely to have been selected for Wellington by James Warre was 1797. Writing in 1809, George Sandeman (from another famous port family) declared it 'the best Port vintage ever known'. This wine must have been sent to Wellington's HQ in Portugal for his personal enjoyment and for the entertainment of his guests at the dinners he gave. It seems he was pleased with what Warre sent him. At Elvas, on 6 March 1812, William wrote to his father with another request from the duke:
'Lord Wellington will be much obliged to you if you would have the Pipe of wine bottled for him, marked with his name, and taken care of for him in a good place till his return, as he wishes to keep it as a bonne bouche!'
This was port wine to keep for years to come and enjoy. The year of this pipe (756 bottles) was probably the celebrated 1811 'Comet' vintage. 1815 was the year of another outstanding vintage, the 'Waterloo', and Wellington would certainly have had some of this. Michael Broadbent MW (Master of Wine) tasted an 1815 'Waterloo' vintage from the Quinta do Vesuvio in 1978 and noted its 'beautiful warm amber colour, ruddy, with golden sheen; very old nose, high acidity; still quite sweet, faded but fascinating'. Fascinating testimony indeed to the quality and longevity of 'very fine old Port'. Such fine wine would have been served at the yearly 'Waterloo Banquet' which the Duke hosted at Aspley House on 18 June until his death in 1852.
In time, from around 1820, London Dock port fortified to 20 degrees of alcohol became what we know as port today today while the unfortified wine continued to be drunk as 'Douro', as it still is today. Then as now the ordinary red 'port' wine varied in quality. It provided good moments for lower ranking officers and men in Portugal. In spite of the long war, there always seemed to be sufficient Douro wine for the army. At Braga in 1809, Sergeant John Cooper of the 7th Royal Fusiliers noted buying 'half a gallon of good wine'. In northern Portugal in 1810, Captain John Kinkaid of the 95th Rifles recalled that 'our pigskin was, at all times, at least three quarters full of a common red wine which used to be dignified by the name of Blackstrap'. Of course, the stronger, fortified port was drunk there as well. William Surtees, an officer in the 95th, wrote that for his birthday on 4 August 1812 'a dozen of strong port-wine was procured, and we boozed away most joyfully, the whole being drunk by about four or five of us'. Surtees went on to report that he had a terrible hangover for the next couple of days!
Beef Wellington
Can we assume that the great duke had a fine helping of this superb and luxurious dish — an entire beef filet cooked in a pastry crust? Unfortunately, I have looked at a considerable number of 19th-century English and French cookbooks and cannot find a recipe under this name. In French cookbooks and the menus of the more up-scale 19th-century restaurants 'filet de boeuf en croute' — beef filet in a pastry crust — is sometimes seen, but not surprisingly without any mention of Wellington. However, the recipe is frequently given in current British and American cookbooks.
How it came to be known as 'Beef Wellington' remains a mystery. The duke may have eaten such a dish but there is no evidence that it took his name because he liked it (see the Osprey Military Journal 2.3 for the association between Napoleon and 'Chicken Marengo'). The 1858 edition London at Dinner does not mention the dish but does include an advertisment for 'The Wellington', a dining club which opened in 1853 and did offer 'Wellington Soup' on its menu (possibly a clear turtle consommé). Maybe some astute dining establishment offering expensive beef filets transformed 'boeuf en croute' into the far more impressively British-sounding 'Beef Wellington'.
Peninsula Campaign Rations
There are accounts of British officers and men nearly starving in the Peninsula and of British soldiers sharing their meagre rations with their Portuguese comrades who had been forgotten by their own supply trains. But there were also times of plenty. The officers had to become used to the local cuisine, invariably accompanied by port.
While some were horrified that oil, and even garlic, ingredients then very foreign to an English palate, were used in cooking, others were quite happy with the new experience. It was a commissary with the King's German Legion, August Schaumann, who left us with perhaps the best descriptions of Portuguese food. Billeted at Abrantes in late 1808, he recorded:
'The principal Portuguese dish consisted of a tureen full of strong meat broth, together with rice and all kinds of herbs and vegetables, such as sage, thyme, parsley, onions, leeks, tomatoes (pommes d'amour), cabbage, haricot beans, and quantities of white bread: hence its name of sopa secca. The cabbage, the haricot beans (feiaon) and the rice were frequently taken out of the soup before it was brought to the table, and served as a vegetable on a separate plate, with butcher's meat, chicken and pork sausages. The latter, with the meat, were frequently cooked in the soup. Pork and mutton are also frequently cooked with beef in the soup.'
One notes the absence of oil and garlic in this hearty soup, which is also a stew. The appearance of tomatoes, not yet generally known in Europe, is also interesting and is testimony to Portugal's overseas empire. A couple of years later Schaumann reported as follows:
' . . . our principal dishes consisted of good marrow-bone and vegetable soups with roast beef, roast joints of muttons which came from sheep fed entirely on the aromatic herbs of the hills, and hill rabbits or pigeons. For dessert we had a cold preparation known as arroz doce (rice pudding), some excellent milk cheese with cinnamon and sugar, and wonderful cherries and peaches. Every third day, moreover, I used to fetch snow for myself and for the mess, with which we cooled the wine and made lemonade.'
Traditionally, a glass of port is marvellous with good Stilton cheese but will go well with other types of strong cheeses too at the end of a meal. More simply, it is also superb with a snack of almonds. Indeed, port is one of the very few fine wines that travels well and is equally at ease at a state dinner or on campaign. No wonder Wellington liked it!
by René Chartrand
About the Author
René Chartrand was born in Montreal and educated in Canada, the United States and the Bahamas. A senior curator with Canada's National Historic Sites for nearly three decades, he is now a freelance writer and historical consultant. He has written numerous articles and books including over 30 Osprey titles. He lives in Gatineau, Quebec, with his wife and two sons.