Bordeaux Sixes, 2026: 1846 – 2016
The warmest days of summer are now behind us (in the northern hemisphere, anyway), and this year’s unusually early harvest has been and gone. The weather is turning stormy and autumnal, the pavements and paths now littered with fallen leaves. Before we know it 2027 will be upon us.
All of which means I need to crack on with writing up any tastings pertaining to the year 2026. The third-most obvious of which (after relevant tastings of the 2016 and 2006 vintages) has to be this year’s look back at old, ancient and occasionally decrepit wines ending in ‘6’. This year, my Bordeaux Sixes report (which is mostly Bordeaux, with just the occasional ringer from Madeira, Burgundy and even Bonnezeaux) takes us from 2016 all the way back to 1846.
In previous years I have illustrated my reports with images not solely of labels, but also – indulging another passion of mine – with old photographs representing the vintages in question. I started with some old family photographs, rather poignant images of ancestors I never met, before moving on to any weird and wonderful photographs I could find. Providing they originated from the correct vintage, of course.
I continue this photographic focus (bolstered with the occasional painted portrait, from the pre-photographic era) in this report, although now with a new twist. Prompted by the vaguely apocryphal story of Georges Pompidou (1911 – 1974) and his adulation of Château Poujeaux, recently cited in my report Pompidou’s Delight, my 2026 Bordeaux Sixes report takes on a new theme.
Welcome to Bordeaux Sixes: The Presidential Edition, featuring wines from years gone by – and the French presidents who might have drunk them.
1846
We start with 1846, courtesy of a single bottle from this vintage which surfaced during dinner at Domaine de Chevalier. Only half a century had passed since the Revolution, and President of the Council of Ministers at this time was Jean-de-Dieu Soult (1769 – 1851). A military man and founder of the French Foreign Legion, Soult was regarded by historians Bodart & Gaston as one of the outstanding military commanders of the modern era, before he shifted into politics.
On a technical point for those reading who know more about French history and politics than me (which I am worried could be all of you), the office of President of the Council of Ministers was really the forerunner of the current post of Prime Minister, but as the role of president was not created until 1848 Soult will have to do. And besides, his title does at least include the word president.
Soult was an avid supporter of Napoleon Bonaparte; he even named his firstborn son Napoleon, which strikes me as being the ultimate way to get noticed by your boss. His long and storied career included an influential role in the Peninsular War (when Napoleon installed his brother on the Spanish throne – nepotism at its finest) so perhaps he had time to develop a taste for Iberian wines, including those from Jerez, the Douro and maybe Madeira? Well, you never know.
