The Whisky River - Glenlivet distillery

"We shall never forget our ride of 20 miles to Glenlivet on a bright spring day- up mountain roads, across highland moors, and past old Benrinnes, standing out like a mighty giant against the clear sky, the scene changing at every turn of the road like a bit of fairyland, until at last we came in sight of Glenlivet." Barnard's poetry was inspired by the road to Glenlivet.

I travelled there in autumn and took a different road but the effect was similar. I left Dufftown travelling on the Tomintoul road. As the road climbs steadily, you become aware that this is a true Highland road. You pass the rugged bulk of Ben Rinnes on the right and feel the barley lands of Moray are falling away behind you. This is a frontier land where the meadow gives way to the moor and the ploughed field to hill-grazing and shooting estates. The ballads of these parts tell of the wild Highlanders coming down to harry the douce farming folk in pursuance of feuds and grievances or to steal livestock and women.

Glenlivet was the place where the licensed whisky trade started. The Duke of Gordon managed to convince the government that the way to suppress illicit distilling was to make legal distilling more attractive. This led to the Excise Act of 1823, which allowed smaller scale production under licence. George Smith of Glenlivet was the first to apply. He was not popular among the smugglers as a result of this, and had to carry a pair of pistols, given to him by the Laird of Aberlour, for protection. He was required to use them on at least two occasions when smugglers were intent on 'doing him in'. Those pistols are still on display in the distillery. George Smith must have been a brave man. In any event, he knew what the future held for whisky and that the days of the peat-reekers were numbered.

George Smith had started out as an illicit distiller himself, at his farm at Upper Drumin. Glenlivet whisky already had a fabulous reputation, even before licences were introduced. King George iv famously asked for it by name in 1822 on his royal visit to Scotland. Smith's legal distillery was licensed in November 1824, and production first flowed early in 1825. Within a year he was producing a hundred gallons a week. In 1827, he complained to the Board of Excise about the continuing threat of violence from illicit distillers and smugglers. Within months, the authorities responded by sending a garrison of troopers to Corgarff Castle. Thus began a determined effort to quash the smuggling trade in the area.

Also in 1827, Smith's business almost failed on account of capital debts and a drop in sales. The Duke of Gordon gave him financial help to see him through, and by the 1830s, production was up to 500 gallons a week. Twenty years later, George Smith could not meet the demand from his small distillery at Upper Drumin, so he built a new one in 1859 at Minmore, just a few hundred yards down the glen. This new site was a much grander and more efficient plant than the old one, with a potential output of 4,000 gallons a week. It has been the home of The Glenlivet ever since. A cairn and a plaque stand on the lonely site of the original distillery, which lies close to the path of the Speyside Way. George Smith died in 1871, and when Barnard arrived at Glenlivet in 1885 the proprietor was George's younger son, John Gordon Smith. At that time, John Gordon had recently been through a costly court battle to prevent a growing rash of distilleries adopting the Glenlivet name and benefiting from the reputation his family had built. The result of that court case was that only 10 distilleries had the right to suffix their name with 'Glenlivet' (Barnard attaches it to five distilleries) and only Smith's could be called 'The Glenlivet' .Barnard comments on the "numerous teams of magnificent horses" and "magnificent stabling". The Speyside railway had reached Ballindalloch in1863 and Glenlivet was certainly using it to reach its markets in

London and beyond, but, in order to negotiate the seven or so miles between the distillery and the railway, it was necessary to employ the horse and cart.

Needless to say in such an upland area, Barnard describes a

kilning process that is "fired principally with peat, which is of fine quality and dug in the district." Nowadays the phenolic content of the malted barley is 6ppm, which, though probably far below normal 19^th century levels, is a touch higher than most present-day Speyside distilleries. In 1890, just a short time after Barnard called, the distillery was seriously damaged by a fire and some of the buildings had to be renovated.

John Gordon Smith was a member of the 6th Volunteer Battalion of the

Gordon Highlanders and became a colonel. In 1899 he sent a cask of

Glenlivet to the Gordon Highlanders during the siege of Ladysmith in South

Africa. In 1886 Barnard said of him, "the hospitable proprietor is a true highlander, and not only entertained us and our driver, but invited us to spend our next vacation with him, and have some days grouse shooting on a fine moor of about 10,000 acres". It is tantalising to imagine how Barnard's group was "entertained" - he says nothing about tasting the whisky - and indeed one wonders whether he ever took up the invitation to do a bit of shooting.

Glenlivet distillery is a survivor. It has had its difficult patches, not only in the early days. Demand and therefore production fell dramatically in the first decade of the 20th century. John Gordon Smith died in 1901 and ownership passed to his nephew, George Smith Grant, but George died in 1914 and his eldest son, John, was killed in France in 1918. John's younger brother, Bill, who had been twice wounded and decorated for bravery in the war, took over the reigns. He needed all that bravery to drag the company back to health. It was not until Prohibition ended in the usa in 1933 that the company's fortunes began to turn. Bill Smith Grant had the vision to concentrate on the US market and, at a time when everyone was interested in blends, he saw a future for single malts and pushed The Glenlivet tenaciously. By 1964, half of all single malt sold in the us was Glenlivet. In 1952 it amalgamated with Glen Grant and in 1970 these two tied up with Longmorn to form The Glenlivet Distillers Ltd. That company was purchased by the Canadian company, Seagram, which had already purchased Chivas Brothers in the 1950s.

The distillery now produces about 3.5 million litres of whisky each year.

Mashing at Glenlivet involves four infusions and the fermentation takes place relatively quickly at 42-48 hours in eight Oregon pine washbacks of some antiquity. There are eight stills of the lampglass design, which are among the tallest in Scotland. One of these has a viewing porthole on the side, which is a fascinating thing to peer into when a distillation is taking place. Distillation is computer controlled. The distillery ran out of cooling water last year for the first time ever. Both of these things are signs of the times, but while we can control the technology of production, the climate is just a bit beyond our power.

Though this is the second best selling malt worldwide, a considerable amount of Glenlivet still goes into blends (about 60 per cent). There are various ages, wood finishes and vintages of the single malt. At the moment, my greatest praise goes to the Glenlivet Nàdurra, a 16 year old, cask strength (57.2 per cent) batch bottling, which has no caramel or chillfiltering (Nàdurra means 'natural'). The colour is bright yellow gold and the nose gets a blast of aromatic oak, which in a few minutes turns to vanilla, pineapple and sherbet lemons. A hint of tobacco leaf stops it from becoming too airy-fairy. A dessert whisky with a substantial kick.

At the time of my visit, I sat in the distillery savouring a dram of the French

Oak (eleven years in sherry wood, one year in new French Limousin oak; sweet, rich and spicy) and watching the weather. It was a contemplative moment, wondering all sorts of things: why do distilleries still mill the malt instead of buying in grist?; why do they still have padlocks on the spirit safes? etc. The sky was divided in battle lines, blue skies to the north and storm clouds to the south, where the mountains lay. I was lucky to be travelling back to Dufftown and into the blue. The road was deserted and it was downhill all the way - hard not to slip into the persona of a rally driver! I have tasted many expressions of

Glenlivet, but the greatest impact was when I was given a taste of 40 year old

(distilled 1964) by Ian Logan of Chivas at the Whisky Fringe in Edinburgh in

August 2006. It was a really intense, penetrating dram with continuous waves of rewarding flavour, like winning a jackpot on some flavour fruit machine - and fruit was the key, like fresh air blowing at you across a heavenly and exotic fruit punch (pineapple, banana, aromatic pear, peaches and passion fruit). I swear there was musk in there, too. The palate was rich fruit and spice with iced coffee.

The finish stayed with me all the way home. The night sky was clear and I settled back in the garden to watch dozens of Perseids shooting across the imax screen of the sky. I shall always associate that special experience with that special whisky. Thank you, Ian.

Links

• Glenlivet Distillery