“It’s a crémant that I make myself, declared the abbot … “
“When the two camps withdrew from battle The calm arrived in the valley and I can take care of the vineyard in peace.”
The evening light is magnificent. It looks like the valley glows. “
A long time ago,
the village of Saint Pey was reputed to be the subject of battles between the English and the French. In a few decades, the commune has indeed passed more than ten times in the hands of one camp and the other! The territory was besides so often under siege that it was said that the one who did not pass by Saint Pey was not a good soldier …
que les combats fthat the fighting was raging, legend has it that an English soldier, seriously injured, took refuge in the priory of the village. But as he pushed the rear door of the building to take refuge, he came face to face with the abbot of the time who was French. Believing that he would be reported on the spot, he immediately turned back, despite the pain inflicted on him by his wounds. He tried to run a few meters but passed out after a few steps …
When he woke up,
his surprise was great. Not only did the abbot not denounce him, he transported him inside the priory and was treating his wounds. Relieved to have fallen on such a charitable soul, the soldier thanked him: he knew French well and understood it perfectly. The abbot, meanwhile, explained to the soldier that he needed rest and that he would have to stay in bed for a few days before joining his family. The English soldier therefore remained hidden for almost two weeks in the priory.
The abbot took care of him every day of his convalescence: he changed his bandages and brought him food. One day, he brought the soldier a bottle full of a sparkling drink that he himself had concocted.
The young English delighted and enthusiastically asked the abbot what he had drunk.
– It’s a crémant that I make myself, replied the abbot. It is called this because the fine bubbles, rising to the surface, create a foam as delicate as a cream.
– But how do you manage to harvest your grapes safely? asked the soldier.
– I’m waiting for dusk since the fighting stops with the sunset, said the abbot. When the two camps withdraw, calm takes place on the valley and one can fearlessly walk the vines there. The evening light is magnificent. It looks like the valley glows.
“The valley glows,” repeated the soldier thoughtfully, charmed by the image.
At the end of his convalescence, the soldier had to resolve to leave. He was sad to leave the abbot with whom he had formed a friendship which contradicted the hatred of the rival armies.
The abbot, in his usual generosity, entrusted him with two bottles of the crémant he had so much appreciated.
– In memory of our friendship, said the abbot, handing him the bottles.
– The valley glows … murmured the soldier, shaking his friend’s hand.
It is said that the English soldier, back among his family, had his colleagues taste the Abbot’s drink. It is said that they liked the drink so much that they did not hesitate to escape from their camp to go to the priory and ask for a bottle of “gleaming valley”.
The expression has remained since then but because of the English pronunciation, we ended up believing that it was the name of a certain “Vallon Louis”.