[The characters, places, organizations, events, and so on appearing in this work have no connection whatsoever to reality and are fictitious products of the author’s imagination.]
“It may be America’s first Chardonnay, but the problem is that this first Riesling on the estate still sells well, too. It would be far too wasteful to tear it all out like in the fifties. Ah, thank you, Annie. I was losing my head. Sir, this is Annie. Anivia Smith Ivan. Con’s daughter and my goddaughter. She is currently helping me as our winery’s Assistant Wine Maker.”
Anivia was a woman in her forties with a generous impression and an exceedingly friendly air. Henry exchanged a light handshake with her and made small talk.
“You must have your hands full working under that meticulous Uncle Richard.”
“Oh, don’t even get me started. I’ve lost count of how many shoe soles I’ve worn through because of my godfather.”
As soon as their greetings were over, Richard handed Henry the documents he had received from Annie and gestured for him to open them at once. On the first page was written, “The Need for Major Policy Changes at Devenger Winery Due to the Farm Winery Act of 1976.” Henry signaled for them to wait a moment, then skimmed through the contents as quickly as he could.
A short while later, once he had grasped the gist, Henry let out a small sigh and spoke.
“To summarize, the closed-off approach we’ve maintained is instead reducing our Riesling to factory wine and tarnishing its reputation?”
“Sir, ever since that law was passed in ’76, the world has gone mad. People don’t even properly spray their vineyards once, then bring in bug-eaten grapes and prattle on about ‘Natural’ this and that. They don’t have the ability to process things cleanly with machinery, so they crush it by hand and dress it up as a ‘traditional method,’ then try to charge more for it than our Riesling. That isn’t wine—it’s closer to grape juice!”
The Farm Winery Act. Enacted to revive New York’s wine industry, the law made it easy for small farms to obtain licenses and allowed them to sell up to 250,000 bottles a year directly. Until then, large companies like Devenger had endured heavy taxes and strict regulations while monopolizing the market under “commercial winery” licenses. But now, in ’76, small grape farms had sprung up everywhere and were all entering the competition with their own labels.
They attacked the existing large wineries as dirty factories and slapped provocative phrases such as Organic, Handmade, and Estate Bottled onto their own labels.
And the most fatal change brought by this law was the permission for on-site sales. Once farms could sell wine directly, the crowds enjoying Wine Tourism and winery tours had begun to explode in number starting last year.
They experienced the wine production process, tasted directly from oak barrels during aging, and spread out picnic blankets beside the vineyards to enjoy cheese and wine. Several famous small wineries were already differentiating themselves with their own signature programs, and starting this year, even large wineries were gradually opening up their tours, even if regulations prevented them from selling.
In other words, wine tourism was becoming everyday life, and the market was maturing.
For now, many large companies were holding out without opening due to the strict regulations of commercial licenses, but Henry knew the future in which everyone would eventually open their doors. When that time came, it was obvious that “Old Chad” alone would face questioning criticism over why it was hiding away so tightly.
Richard, too, recognized this point in his report, but his reaction was extremely negative. If one summarized his lengthy argument, it came down to exactly three lines.
“It may be beneficial to disclose the authenticity and clean production methods of our wine.”
“However, is a winery some kind of amusement park? Those who make alcohol should lock the doors and make alcohol, nothing else.”
“If people come and go, raising dust and increasing the temperature, it will cause serious hygiene issues.”
He knew that the current trend in the industry was moving in this direction, but his irritable feelings—that his pride and philosophy could never accept it—were smeared throughout every sentence.
‘He knows it himself. He doesn’t like it, but the times are changing.’
And that was not all. Henry looked further into the future. Regulations on spirits were strict now, but later, breweries and distilleries alike would all end up opening to the public.
‘At this rate, I either have to move both of them off the estate, or I have to leave.’
Applejack with a long history, America’s first apple brandy, America’s first Riesling white wine.
At this point, it went beyond a simple experience course; they might as well build a family museum near the estate. If the floating population increased, all sorts of people would start gathering, and if that happened, security across this vast estate would plainly become like a mosquito screen full of holes. It might be far safer to live in a luxury penthouse in Manhattan with only one entrance.
‘It’s not too late yet. If I try to relocate them later, I’ll run into fierce opposition, but now it’s fine. Even if we lose a little of the story, my life comes first.’
Once his thoughts reached that point, an entirely new grand picture formed in Henry’s mind.
‘Should I just move everything out and build a golf course and a private airport on this gold-mine land that can handle even super-large aircraft? Maybe build a private racing circuit, too, with hangars?’
With a frown, Henry took out his notebook and pressed down hard as he wrote, “golf course,” “private airport,” and “private circuit.” After putting the notebook away in his jacket pocket, Henry finally opened his mouth.
“Phew, I’ll have to think this over carefully. Of course, I’m not saying we should force open the winery when the law prohibits it. What I’m considering is the response plan you wrote down. The plan for a ‘Second Devenger Winery’ that would be made by cultivating large-scale vinifera in the Finger Lakes this time.”
“Yes, sir. If we maintain the reputation of ‘Old Chad’ while slowly expanding with the winery’s profits, there should be no problem at all!”
‘The problem is that all the other subsidiaries are eating up those profits... Is he taking a roundabout jab at them?’
An ominous thought flashed through his mind, but outwardly Henry laughed heartily and promised Richard.
“I’ll raise this issue formally at the family council.”
Only after finishing a brief handshake with Richard and getting back into the car with Jay did Henry speak as if lamenting.
“Jay, surely Devenger Village in the south doesn’t need a massive investment too, does it?”
“Uh... as far as I know, there shouldn’t really be anything to invest in.”
“Even when I left the mansion at lunchtime today, I had no idea I’d end up taking on one giant project after another. Today really is dragging on forever.”
The southern part of the estate was a kind of autonomous village where vassals, elders, and the families of servants lived together. In terms of an old estate, it was the base where the households of retainers gathered. Lined with hundreds of homes, a school, a church, and a commercial district, it was too small to be called a city but fairly large for a village, a peaceful place to live.
What was especially impressive was the medical support the family provided as welfare. Thanks to benefits so generous one could hardly believe it was America, the hospital was draining the family’s money in the most honest and terrifying way. Perhaps because of that, however, there was not a single shabby house in the village, and every building boasted a refined appearance, meticulously maintained.
Only after meeting Sirison, the retainer who managed the village as its representative and Benjamin’s father, and completing a brief discussion with him was Henry able to return safely to the car.
The final destination was the 1,000-acre riding club and stallion breeding farm located to the east. After shaking hands with the manager, William Wilson, a close friend of Bart’s, he looked around the inside of the club. The endlessly stretching white wooden fences and the natural scenery spread between them were certainly impressive.
Fortunately, when asked if there were any difficulties, William answered, “None.” Perhaps because that answer reassured Henry, who had been on edge, the scenery of the ranch beneath the slowly setting sun looked even more beautiful.
“I thought you would never come back here, sir. Even when Bart told me you were making an inspection of the estate, I wondered whether you would truly come. After the riding accident in your mischievous childhood, you stopped coming here entirely.”
“Uh... hmm, did I? I was so young that I don’t really remember anymore. These days, I’m actually thinking about learning to ride again. Maybe it’s because I’m getting older, but seeing this beautiful scenery makes me want to ride a horse and run.”
“Haha, you’re only twenty-two. What’s this talk about getting older?”
William laughed heartily. Henry had encountered the American upper class countless times through novels and videos, but that was only indirect experience.
In his previous life, the only thing he had actually done himself was screen golf at a gym. Horses? He had been such an ordinary petty citizen that he had given up even riding a donkey-like creature on Jeju Island because it felt like a waste of money. But now things were different. If he no longer had to worry about money, he had to acquire the dignity befitting the upper class, and horseback riding was the perfect sport for that.
After searching through books and magazines, he had learned that this riding club was not merely a place for hobbies. In this era, equestrianism was both a high-end investment and a powerful venue for socializing. If Henry, the owner of the club, could not even handle a horse, he would have no chance to enjoy those enormous benefits.
‘But would I really invite people here and enjoy social business with them? Hmm...’
Henry knew his own personality well. In his previous life, he had never once invited anyone to his home. Why? Because a home was a place to rest, and bringing someone over meant the major stress of having to pay attention to that person.
“Ah, there’s no problem at all! Among our horses, ‘Bully’ has such a gentle and obedient temperament that he’s a top-class saddle horse.* There’s no better horse for a beginner to learn on.”
Henry made an appointment with William for a lesson the next morning. With the blazing sunset at his back, Henry got into the car and at last turned back toward the mansion.
‘So what’s left now are the outside personnel? Sigh, there’s still a long way to go.’
[Saddle horse = A horse easy for beginners to learn on. It is not for racing, but most are well-trained warmblood breeds ridden by nobles as a hobby.]