Aaaaaaaaarrrggggh! Eat that bit Morris - it’s the best part!
Good evening, lovers of the strange and macabre and welcome my brave wine fiends, to the most unsettling issue of Newstain yet.
I was Monty McMinty but after the virus - I am not myself at all.
Raise a glass, but watch your step, because these tales are more twisted than a vine grafted in the underworld by the “Master of Red” - B. L. Seebub.
These stories drip with more gore than a haunted wine press with the mish-mash of a musty-mangled cellar rat mixed in the with mucky must-mash.
Take your silver corkscrew to explore more Terror than Terroir!
The Parisian Tavern Murders of the 1800s
Reader, the first of our horror-ific tales hails from the shadow alleys of Paris, where a night out could become... a night never-ending…
In the twisted streets of Montmartre, the wine was more Saignée than usual and a little more deadly. Unwitting patrons found themselves in a distilled nightmare, sipping on concoctions laced with opium or laudanum.
They blacked out, only to wake in back alleys or not wake at all. The notorious tavern killers preyed on thirsty souls who wanted nothing more than to drink their worries away and ended up with a permanent headache. Montmartre’s taverns became infamous watering holes of terror!
Well, i guess that the next time you’re in Paris, stick to coffee. After all, wine isn’t worth dying for… unless of course…it is!
The Blight of 1886 in California
This next tale is one of vineyard ruin and despair, where the land itself turned against the winemakers and death came creeping on tiny feet, like a dream I had last night - the Grim Reaper with tiny hands and feet. I think I ate too much cheese again.
In 1886, California’s vineyards withered under a curse known as Pierce’s disease. This blight spread rapidly, carried by insects that turned lush vineyards into deathbeds. As vineyards died, so did the spirits of winemakers, some of whom followed their vines into the earth. Ghostly vineyards and abandoned cellars dotted California, where once-thriving vines became growing grounds for despair. These then resurfaced as the modern California.
The bugs that killed the vines didn’t just leave emptiness; they left haunted harvests. Talk about a pest that was really vine-dictive!
Lead-Laden Wines of Ancient Rome
Dearest reader, step back to the days of ancient Rome, where wine was sweetened with lead... and the emperors went sweetly mad.
The Romans had a taste for wines and frivolousness with their wine having an added bite of metal. Boiled in lead pots, it was rich, sweet…and poisonous.
Chronic lead exposure made even the mightiest emperors stagger, their minds growing hazy and their bodies waning as they raised cup after fatal cup. Over time, the Empire’s finest drank themselves into delusions and decay, blaming the gods when it was really just toxic terroir at work.
No wonder the entertainment at the Coliseum was so grotesque…
Let this be a lesson - adding too much lead to your wine could turn your empire into rubble. Call it a cautionary tale about mixing heavy metal with wine.
The Orléans Wine Poisoning Scandal (1680s France)
Dear reader, step lightly into the scandalous world of French nobility, where the only thing thicker than wine was the danger lurking in every cup.
In Orléans, wine was infused with something sinister. Catherine Monvoisin, a fortune-teller and self-proclaimed sorceress, catered to thirsty noblemen... often adding a dash of darkness.
She served political enemies “magic” wine, with high notes of hemlock and low notes of laudanum. Soon enough, the court was abuzz with tales of the wretched brews, sipped by doomed souls in wigs and lace. In Louis XIV’s court, fear was so thick you could slice it with a Champagne saber.
Careful who you toast with - sometimes the only thing a glass of wine pairs best with… is revenge!
The Moldavian Wine Massacre of the 1940s
Prepare for a vintage scare, dear reader. This tale spills from the haunted vineyards of Moldova, where wine wasn’t merely confiscated—it was exorcised.
In post-war Moldova, wine was the lifeblood of the land. But to the government, this lifeblood needed a Vampiric “full-bodied” purge. They aimed to centralize and control alcohol production to reduce private influence and ensure that revenues from alcohol sales flowed back to the state.
Officials seized and destroyed barrels by the hundreds, uncorking despair as winemakers watched their entire livelihoods vanish like fine mist. Legend claims each emptied barrel echoed with the wails of broken dreams, and the soil grew colder with every lost vintage. To this day, Moldovan vineyards are said to carry the scent of retribution, with locals convinced that the spirits of stolen vintages linger on.
Now that’s a wine purge! Proof that some government regulations can make you want to comply… to the death. Because who needs to worry about a “healthy wine industry” when your main ingredients are regret and despair?
The Poisoned Wine of Prohibition of the 1920s
Step right up, dear reader, to Prohibition-era America, where every sip was a roulette wheel of death and drinking responsibly meant not drinking at all.
When America outlawed alcohol, an underground market filled the void with wines that were toxic by design. In a move that feels straight out of a horror flick, federal agents laced barrels with poisons like methanol, hoping to scare off drinkers. The results were devastating as thousands were poisoned, countless went blind and many were permanently retired from the nightlife scene. In the Prohibition era, wine glasses turned into tombstones and anyone brave - or foolish enough to drink, faced the ultimate hangover.
So next time you hear “drink responsibly,” remember, it’s not just a suggestion…it’s one of the only reasons you’re still here!"
The Vineyard’s Last Punch
Dear readers, tonight’s tale comes from Val D’Ombre Vineyard, where during harvest, a worker named Vinny Caprino met an unexpected fate while punching down the cap in a fermentation tank.
The CO₂ build-up hit him hard and before anyone could intervene, Vinny was pulled under and lost in a sea of deep red like Wilson the Soccer Ball.
Days later, the wine took on an unusual richness, some swearing that it had a hauntingly familiar depth. It’s said if you hold a glass to the light, you might still catch a glimpse of Vinny, staring back from the depths of his final vintage.
Now that’s a Cabernet with real body! A wine best enjoyed alone… unless you want company from the other side…
In further news, my wife and Elaine from accounting have opened a two-story business venture in London - a barber shop upstairs and a “Mrs. Miggins Pie Shop” below. Locals report mysterious screams and pies with rich fillings.
I've been Monty McMinty, and you’ve been Horror-Stained.
Watch your back... but don’t break your neck doing so!
