My father and I have been big fans of Sancerre ever since discovering it several years back at the Brick Cafe here in Astoria. I just discovered that it has a Huguenot connection as well. The town of Sancerre figures prominently in the Wars of Religion according to this article on the Siege of Sancerre.
Gives a Huguenot like myself much to be proud of except for, of course, the accounts of the devastation people endured during the time the town was under siege by Catholic forces. I do find it interesting that the article references Henri IV at the end as well. He was one of France's best-loved kings and a Huguenot. He remained Protestant for much of his life until converting to Catholicism after taking the throne.
By chance I ended up learning much about him and the Huguenot cause during the summer I spent studying French in Pau, the city of his birth. I was the only French-American kid among all students in the program and, on top of that, a Protestant as well. Had no idea that my interest in learning the language of my heritage would connect me with much more than syntax, pronunciation and grammar but also a sense of the times that had led to my own family's decision to flee the country.
Like many Huguenot refugees we settled in the Netherlands during the 16th century. From there a pair of brothers came to the United States during the Gold Rush and began the American branch of our family. Still Protestant to this day. I wonder who it was who made the initial choice to leave the Catholic Church. Was it a conversion of faith or of political opportunity? What was the motivation? I still wonder that today because although I may not practice much I find it fascinating that one person's decision more than 500 years ago set in course a series of migrations that led to my being born an American. Had that not happened the family likely would have remained French.
This subject doesn't come up much when I talk with other people but it did a week ago when I got chatted up by a waiter at an Italian restaurant in Manhattan. His name was Marcel and I noticed that it was French. He then specified that he was a Huguenot and that spurred a discussion about the heritage we shared. A rare conversation for me to have these days. I was used to being around plenty of other French-American kids growing up in Western Massachusetts but being as they were all French-Canadian, they attended Mass while I had to go to Sunday School. No one ever explained the reason for that to me until years later.
Now things Huguenot don't figure centrally in my life but I have to smile when I happen to learn that a wine I love has a Huguenot link. Who knew?
n l
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