THE BALLANTINE STORY: THROUGH THE HISTORY OF SCOTCH
As I have often stated in the past, Ireland was the first European country to distil Aqua Vitae, Uisce Beatha, to become whisky/whiskey around 1840. Scotland followed soon thereafter, but on a very low scale when compared to Ireland. Its scattered distilleries were to produce aqua vitae less than or a hundred thousand gallon per annum mark at the most, vis-à-vis Ireland which was distilling in the millions of gallons.
The introduction of the Coffey or Patent Still in 1832 led to a veritable boycott of its product in Ireland. This Still produced whiskey from a grain bill continuously, unlike pot stills which rarely produced more than one batch of whiskey from malted barley before stopping for cleaning and repair of its components. The Irish termed this as a loathsome brew, with no taste or flavour, and could not be classified as a whiskey, certainly not in whiskey-loving Ireland, far removed from perhaps a whisky in ‘distant’ Scotland. The ABV of most malt and blended malt whiskies was in the 62-65% range and was drunk either neat or cut with soda, usually Schwheppes, or water. When blending of grain whiskies with malt whiskies was permitted in 1860-63, the Irish continued their offensive against Blended Scotch whisky, but only to their detriment, as Blended Scotch proved popular globally. The taste and flavour improved considerably while the strength of the whisky could be reduced to the 50% ABV range, making the spirit more savoury, appetising and easier to drink. The decline became obvious in the late 1890s, when Scotch whisky inexorably took over the global market, hitherto dominated by the Irish. Worse was to follow.
Distilleries in Ireland were affected by WW I
(1914-18); their war of independence from the British and their own civil war
(1919-21) which also added to the earlier famine-caused migration of locals to
the USA (where they called their spirit whiskey); prohibition in the USA, their
second largest market (1920-33); widespread counterfeiting of Irish whiskeys in
America and Britain; British trade restrictions (sanctions) which cost the
Irish the highly lucrative and dispersed Commonwealth market, and WWII. A
glorious chapter of the whisky industry had to be closed, to next resurface in
the following millenium.
A Cottage Industry
From the first attempts to make whisky until the 19th
century, distilling was largely a cottage industry, closely tied to the cycle
of the seasons. The Highlander would sow his hardy barley seeds in spring,
harvest his crop in late summer and dry the grain throughout the winter. The
discarded straw was used for his animals and to insulate his cottage floor. By
March, when ice had disappeared from the streams, distilling began.
A small copper pot still often stood in the corner of
the cottage, heated by a fire of glowing peat blocks. The fermenting mixture of
home-grown barley and stream water was heated and the vapour passed down a tube
immersed in water. Distillation in crude pot stills was something like
simmering beer in the kettle and cooling the vapour.
The raw, condensed spirit was not matured but decanted
into jugs and small casks for immediate use. Whisky was a communal, convivial
spirit, believed to have medicinal properties, and often exchanged with clan
neighbours for rent, goods or services rendered. It became a cornerstone of
community life. At one time it was used for barter, almost as a form of
currency. In the 16th century, for instance, a farm in Kintyre paid six quarts
of whisky as rent.
Barley used for making whisky was also paid as rent to
clan chiefs. On occasions, when they received more than was required for distilling,
the surplus would be used by the clan for brewing ale. However, it was whisky
that remained central to community life. There was scarcely a farmer who did
not convert his surplus grain into whisky, which was a more negotiable currency
than gold or silver.
The disapproving while influential Scottish church
launched a sobriety drive as early as 1579, when restrictions were placed on
its manufacture. Parliament, equally concerned about drunkenness and lawless
behaviour, tried to confiscate whisky in the Western Isles in 1609 after riots
and feuds by drunken gangs. But the only effect of seizing local whisky was to
stimulate smuggling. Further attempts to curb production and consumption of
aqua vitae only brought out the rebellious blood of every good Scot.
The first levy on whisky made by the Scottish
parliament in 1644 sparked widespread anger in Scotland. Within months almost
the entire country turned to smuggling. It
was readily accepted by some workmen as wages. As long as magistrates made a point of
imposing moderate fines, there was no earthly reason why they should not
continue to reap a worthwhile return. Magistrates were clearly on the side of
the smugglers as many had a vested interest in outlaw distilling and
imposed only face-saving fines. English revenue officers poured across the border in a
determined effort to collect tax in 1707. Ninety years later, they were still
trying.
In those days, Scots drank huge quantities of whisky
and wine, far more than anyone today would contemplate. In 1770, the French
traveller Louis Simond wrote that the average Highlander consumed about a quart
(roughly a litre) of whisky a day. Heavy drinking was common in the 16th and 17th centuries.
Whisky, easily made from local grain and water,
remained cheap in rural areas where duty was often ignored. In 1770, for
example, the best whisky from Ferintosh and Glenlivet cost 1s 10d (about 9p) a
Scots pint (the equivalent of three British pints). In 1782, about 1,940 stills
were seized with little effect on whisky production. Distilling became an act
of patriotism and Scots saw no good reason for paying for the privilege of
making their own national drink.
Ardbeg distillery on Islay, a keynote malt in Ballantine's 17 Years Old, was situated in a remote bay and built like a fortress. Rebel whisky-makers had a fearsome reputation for defending it. In the end, it was captured only when excise officers waited until the gang sailed to the mainland with a shipment, leaving the distillery empty. The duty men moved in, smashing the stills and destroying the building. Ardbeg later took out a licence and was rebuilt.
Some of the finest illicit whisky came from Speyside, which now has the highest concentration of distilleries in Scotland. More than 200 stills operated in Glenlivet alone, hidden in caves, concealed by branches
or packed up and moved from place to place at night on horseback. When the
water supply was considered too precious to move the still, the site was hidden
deep in the countryside and the burn diverted to supply it. Rebel distillers
near Dufftown, on Speyside, diverted a stream from Ben Rinnes, which currently
supplies several famous distilleries, by digging a ditch for almost a mile
under cover of darkness.
In the Highlands, nearly every farmer had his own still and the greatest ingenuity was shown, not only in carrying out the various
brewing and distilling processes, but in warning one another of the approach of
the itinerant exciseman. When the farmers saw the gauger approaching on
horseback, they made haste to raise the alarm by hoisting sheets or flags on
the top of peat stacks, so as to give everyone a chance to hide their precious
whisky utensils.
In 1820, a typical year, more than 14,000 raids were
carried out, but the authorities still struggled to collect taxes. Demand was
so heavy that whisky was sold straight from the still, without having time to
age. A few aristocrats and Highland gentlemen kept their whisky in wine and
sherry casks. Herbs such as thyme, mint, sugar and spices were added to blunt
the hot, raw taste of newly-distilled spirit. Often, it was drunk in cordials,
punches or toddies to disguise the rough smoky pungency.
By the early 1800s, whisky was fast becoming the most
important industry in Scotland. Half the quantity sold was made illegally,
often by skilled distillers bankrupted by excise duty. Harsh taxes had put some
of the best whisky-producers out of business. Five companies, who supplied 50
per cent of all legally-produced Scotch, ceased trading in 1788, owing the
exciseman a combined total of £110,000 (in excess of £163 million at today's
prices).
Revival
The revival of Scottish culture was officially endorsed
when George IV visited Scotland in 1822 and publicly tasted a glass of outlawed
Glenlivet whisky. The King's taste for whisky, flamboyantly taken in public in
full Highland regalia, revived a fashion for the tartan, whisky and all things
Scottish. Indirectly, the raising of a royal dram helped to heal the rift
between the two nations. That same year, one of Scotland's largest landowners,
the Duke of Gordon, on whose lands George Smith's The Glenlivet distillery was housed, persuaded the House of Lords of the sense in encouraging
legal distilling. Whisky, he argued, was the traditional drink of the Highlands
and ultimately no one could be prevented from distilling it. Far better to
bring the smugglers in from the cold. As a result, the excise dept. finally
capitulated and introduced a reasonable licence fee for distilling in 1823.
The Act enabled distillers to operate without fear of
prosecution by paying a licence fee on all stills with a capacity of 40 gallons
or over. Skilled craftsmen welcomed the opportunity to work without risking
imprisonment. Many who came in from the cold selected the same sites and water
sources to keep up the high standards of their smuggling days.
The Glenlivet Distillery |
Enter 'The Apprentice'
In 1822, a horse-drawn farm cart rattled through the
rolling Peebleshire hills on the road to Edinburgh. However, it was not one of
farmer Archibald Ballantine's usual trips to the city for supplies. That
morning, he had dressed in his Sunday best before leaving the patchwork fields
of his farm at Broughton-Home.
Beside him on the 25-mile journey rode his 13-year-old
son George, clutching a travelling bag. Father and son had an appointment with
a lawyer to sign papers apprenticing young George for the next five years to
Andrew Hunter, an Edinburgh grocer and dealer in wines and spirits. That day,
as the lawyer, the grocer and the farmer scratched their signatures at the foot
of the young boy's indentures, none could have imagined they were witnessing
the start of a career which would take his name around the world.
For the next five years, George carried sacks of flour,
oats and dried goods while acquiring an expert knowledge of what was a good
wine or a fine malt whisky. He learned the art of providing a service and
dealing with people civilly, whatever their background. George emerged from his
apprenticeship a quiet, intelligent young man with a polite manner who held the
single thought of becoming an entrepreneur. His master Andrew Hunter wished him
well with a reference, recorded in copperplate hand, that George had served him
'faithfully, assiduously and honestly' during his apprenticeship.
The Apprentice's First Business
At the age of 19, in 1827, Ballantine was ready to set
up in business in his own right. He had absorbed everything Andrew Hunter had
taught him and refined and elevated his own tastes in the process.
The time could not have been more favourable for
selling high quality food and spirits. Revolutions in agriculture and industry
had transformed working methods and mechanised production, creating a new
atmosphere of affluence. With its magnificent architecture, Edinburgh was
Scotland's cultural centre, celebrating exciting developments in the sciences
and a golden era in the arts. As the nation's capital enjoyed a boom economy,
George Ballantine set about marketing his talents amongst the city's wealthy
merchants and professionals.
George hunted for premises within the scope of his
humble savings and opened his first grocery store in Edinburgh's Cowgate. Not
the most fashionable side of the city, but a bustling trade district of narrow
alleys, hay carts and hostelries packed late into the night with roistering
cattle-drovers. From these teeming, unlikely surroundings grew one of the
world's most distinguished whisky companies. Today, Ballantine's is synonymous
with excellence in more than 160 countries - an achievement made possible by
the exacting standards of quality founder George Ballantine insisted upon at
each stage of his long career.
Initial Stage
His first shop, and the second in nearby Candlemakers'
Row to which he moved in 1831, at the age of 23, soon built a reputation. As
the address suggests, it was originally a narrow street where candlemakers had
congregated after a fire in their former district near St. Giles Cathedral. It
also attracted skilled craftsmen, such as bookbinders, saddlemakers and
stained-glass artists. George, with his own specialised skills, was in good
company as he climbed a ladder to fix a newly-painted sign above the store. It
read grandly: 'Wine Merchants and Grocers'.
The young entrepreneur lived simply in rented accommodation,
concentrating all his efforts on building his business. Over the next ten years
he improved the company, attracting an ever-increasing number of loyal
customers.
By 1836, when he was 28, he had raised enough capital to expand to prestigious South Bridge, around the corner from Edinburgh's fashionable Princes Street. This was closer to the heart of Edinburgh Society and the type of customer he felt in tune with. Demand for higher quality whiskies among the gentry and nobility had helped him attract some of the eminent writers, academics and medical men who were drawn to Edinburgh at the time.
In the back of the shop there would certainly have been
a cask or two of malts the company specially recommended, such as Glenlivet, or
Talisker from the newly-licensed distillery on Skye, for favoured customers.
When orders were taken and business done, goods would have been delivered by
horse and trap or a boy on a bicycle.
In 1842 George married Isabella Mann, the daughter of an Inverness grain merchant, and they moved into an imposing house in fashionable George Square. The business, with its commitment to service and quality,
prospered and expanded, helped by their sons George and Archibald and grandson,
George III. It was in surroundings like these, amid the warm glow of polished
wood and the aroma of good food and drink, that the art of blending fine whisky
really took shape.
The Rise of Blending
Use of the Coffey, or Patent still resulted in a huge
increase in whisky production. The bland spirit sold well in England, where
drinkers preferred its smoothness and found it an attractive alternative to
gin. At the time, there was no legislation defining what constituted Scotch
whisky. Malt distillers claimed the description could be applied to their
product alone, and not to a characterless spirit which could be distilled
anywhere, from any type of grain.
The question of whisky definition had become a long dispute, with two test cases, arguments in the High Court and a Royal
Commission. In 1909, the government finally ruled that grain whisky could be
described as Scotch. The legal definition of whisky, which remains to this day,
was established as 'a spirit obtained by distillation from a mash of cereal
grain, saccharified by the diastase of malt.'
In 1853, around the time the definition debate would
have started and at a period when single-malt sales had slumped to a record
low, Andrew Usher, a friend of George Ballantine and fellow Edinburgh spirit
merchant, succeeded in blending a whisky from malts of different ages. George,
as a friend of Usher, was close to the experiments. He saw the significance of
this development and, as an entrepreneur, lost no time turning it to good use.
The idea of blending was not entirely new. Spirit dealers and tavern owners at the lower end of the market had been quietly mixing together cheap whiskies for some time to boost their profits. However, George knew that what Andrew Usher had set out to achieve was a product greater than the sum of its constituent parts. After hearing of his friend's first effort - Usher's Old Vatted Glenlivet was a blend of various Glenlivets(22 distilleries used Glenlivet as a suffix) mixed or 'vatted' together as the name suggests - George Ballantine experimented with grains and malts to elevate blending to a fine art.
What exactly did these early blends taste like - were
they as sophisticated as the Ballantine's enjoyed today? Whiskies enjoyed by
wealthy Victorians in Edinburgh bore little resemblance to de luxe whiskies
like Ballantine's 17 Years Old. Because the recipes relied on only a handful of
whiskies, the finished product lacked the layers of flavour we have come to
appreciate.
These early standardised blends probably contained
whiskies from about six distilleries. In order to give the blends a good
flavour, small quantities of the much admired expensive whiskies from
distilling areas like Islay and Campbeltown seem to have been introduced. The
resulting drink was much lighter than the traditional single malts and much
less likely to cause severe hangovers. Blending skills developed and spirit
merchants began to mix malt and grain from different distilleries, creating set
recipes to produce standard blends.
At first, they would perhaps stumble on a particularly fine combination. Customers who enjoyed the blend would ask them to repeat it, or sometimes bring a bottle of Scotch for their spirit merchant to reproduce. In this way, recipes and named blends evolved. Experts in fine whisky, like Ballantine, drew on their depth of knowledge and experience. They improved recipes, drawing out new dimensions of flavour. It was from this foundation of quality and attention to detail that Ballantine's reputation grew.
George passed on his knowledge to his eldest son,
Archibald, eventually entrusting the Edinburgh business to him. In 1869,
excited by the potential of blended whisky, he moved to Glasgow with Isabella
and the younger children to become more involved in this new development.
Coincidentally, in 1858, a disaster of tremendous
proportions gave sales an unexpected boost. The French grape crop failed and,
for 35 successive years, vineyards were ravaged by viruses, the worst being
phylloxera, leaving no wine stocks to make brandy. The English ruling classes,
desperate for a spirit of quality, turned to blended Scotch in their hundreds. Thus
it was in Glasgow, from elegant premises at 100 Union Street, that George
concentrated on building up the sale of wholesale whisky and turning his
expertise to perfecting his own blends - the forerunners of 17 Years Old.
As blended whiskies made to set recipes created their
own market, the names of blenders featured prominently on the label. Many, like
George Ballantine's, sold directly through advertisements in English magazines,
cutting out agents and London merchants.
The Family Business
By the late 1800s, George Ballantine was
well-established as a blender, with markets throughout Britain and overseas.
His knowledge of malts and the effects of ageing on quality and flavour enabled
him to produce a range of highly-praised whiskies noted for their smoothness on
the palate.
The company marketed its own branded malts - Talisker,
a heavy, peaty whisky from the Isle of Skye; Old Glenlivet, a famously mellow
malt from the Highlands; and the premium blend, Ballantine's Fine Old Highland
Whisky - all bottled with the Ballantine name prominently on the label.
The tireless efforts of noted blenders like Ballantine
led to a deeper understanding of whisky - the discovery of the effects of
maturing and agreeable results of maturing whisky in casks that once held
sherry. George Ballantine's innovation and imagination helped establish blended
Scotch as the leading international drink. By 1881, the year of Isabella's
death, Ballantine's shops and warehouses were exporting Ballantine's blended
whisky to a worldwide market.
Eventually George remarried, leaving the business in
the capable hands of his sons, who combined the Edinburgh and Glasgow
operations and purchased a bonded warehouse to concentrate on developing whisky
exports.
Ballantine's entry in the 1891 guide, Stratten's
Glasgow & Its Environs, was a fitting tribute. It described the company as
having 'a high reputation as blenders of fine old Highland whisky, representing
various selected distillations blended before maturing in sherry wood. An
aggregate of between ten and twenty thousand gallons is frequently comprised in
the firm's bonded stocks . The firm has long ensured that uniformity, next to
the rich and meritorious qualifications of the spirit itself, is its principal
feature.
George retired to Edinburgh, where he died peacefully
in 1891 at the age of 82. His epitaph, in Edinburgh's leading newspaper,
recognised his inestimable contribution: 'He gave to Messrs. Ballantine,' it
said, 'a prestige of which no development of modern trade can dispossess them'.
Four years later, in 1895, Archibald fulfilled his
father's ambition and opened a shop on Edinburgh's elegant Princes Street. It
remained open, patronised by fashionable society, until the retail side of the
business was phased out in 1938. The name of Ballantine had arrived, both
nationally and internationally.
George Junior, steering Ballantine's fortunes in Glasgow, achieved another of his father's dreams in the same year when Queen Victoria, known to favour a dram after climbing Scottish mountains on holiday, awarded the company a Royal Warrant on her visit to the city. It was an indication of the prestigious reputation Ballantine's had acquired in high society. The approval of the Queen herself, head of the Empire, helped Ballantine's international growth in the decades to come.
A Byword In Class
By the middle of the 19th century, George Ballantine
had built steady custom in London through magazine advertising, and found sales
of his blends gaining ground.
While single malts have been described as whisky
equivalents of domain-bottled wines, distinctive in character and identity,
Ballantine's fine blended whiskies proved that the whole could have greater
depth and dimension than the sum of its parts. George discovered that the
success of his blends lay in their broad appeal - sufficiently smooth to satisfy
the popular end of lay the market, yet sophisticated enough to attract the
attention of connoisseurs.
Ballantine's blends began to acquire a familiar
identity in trying to appeal to the broadest possible taste. They were smooth,
not too peaty or oaky; dry, but not too dry - to use an old Scottish word, not
too much wershness. There is also a certain sweetness that comes from
maturation in good wood.
By the time the 20th century dawned, Ballantine's was
listed in the Glasgow telephone directory under five different headings: Wine
merchants to H.M. The King; Exporters of Old Scotch Whisky; Scotch Whisky
Merchants; Wine Importers; and Importers of Havana Cigars.
The company, firmly established as an exporter since
1880, expanded in Glasgow under the guidance of George Ballantine II and his
brother Archibald's son, George Ballantine III. The two Georges, son and
grandson of the founder, were cultured men who ran their business in the
dignified tradition of the best of the old British wine and spirit firms.
Despite the new age, their dealings were characterised by a 19th-century
courtesy and decorum, which ensured the company's standing in cosmopolitan
Glasgow and its thriving cultural, artistic and social scene.
The impact Ballantine's had made both at home and
abroad eventually took its toll on the directors. George Ballantine, the
founder's son, was 69 years old and ready to retire. His nephew, George
Ballantine III, had worked hard to establish the company's influence on
Glasgow's commercial scene and, at 46, decided it was time to hand over the
business to other interests as it faced the next phase of international
expansion.
It was the end of the Ballantine family connection and
the end of an era. In 1919, they accepted a generous offer from a formidable
partnership of established entrepreneurs, James Barclay and R.A. McKinlay, who
set themselves the task of transforming Ballantine's from a family business to
a world leader in blended whisky exports.
The Barclay & McKinlay Phase
The area in which the new owners perhaps saw the
greatest potential was that while its blends were selling well, the company had
not yet effectively established its own name as a brand. So Ballantine's moved
from a family-run period in which it had expanded from single shop to major
blender, to an era of intense export and marketing which would firmly establish
its name internationally.
Barclay and McKinlay were perfectly matched business
partners. James Barclay already had strong links with the American market
through his own whisky company. He had begun his career as a 30p a week office
boy at Benrinnes malt distillery in the Highlands. As a young man, he rolled up
his sleeves and learned the business 'hands on', soon becoming one of the
outstanding characters of the Scotch whisky industry.
McKinlay, in contrast, was neither forceful nor
opinionated. He presented a figure of refinement in his expensively tailored
suits and hand-made silk ties, renowned as a wine connoisseur and an expert
with a formidable 'nose' for whisky.
As a curtain-raiser to the acquisition of Ballantine's,
British Prime Minister Lloyd George had introduced an important wartime
regulation a few years earlier. All Scotch whisky by law now had to be matured
for a minimum of three years. The legislation elevated Scotch's status,
resulting in a keen interest in the whole business of blending, labelling and
ageing worldwide, especially in the growing American market where Scotch whisky
was seen increasingly as a status drink.
Barclay and McKinlay's greatest challenge came a few
months after purchasing the company when their biggest market, North America,
passed the Volstead Act, banning the consumption of alcohol. With customers
eager for their brands and a government equally determined to block their sale,
only the most resourceful whisky marketers were likely to survive.
The American market had such potential that, despite
Prohibition, there was a feeling that if distributors were keen to purchase,
then it would be foolish to take a moral stance. Curiously, Irish whiskey
distillers were urged by the church to take a moral standpoint and, as a
result, lost their dominance in the American market to the Scots.
Some Scottish entrepreneurs, like James Barclay, were
raffish figures who led adventurous lives - often lucky to hang onto them. He
never spoke of his dangerous deals during Prohibition. The only time a hint
came to light was back in Scotland when Bill Craig, manager of Balblair
distillery, asked if there was any truth in rumours of beatings and shoot-outs
in the scramble to deliver whisky consignments to America. Barclay said
nothing, but removed his jacket and shirt to reveal a mass of scars across his
back.
By using contacts in Canada and the West Indies,
Barclay was able to establish a distribution network to his trading partners
at Manhattan's celebrated 21 Club. America, dry, thirsty and desperate for Scotch, was
unprepared for Ballantine's. Americans were used to the raw burn of rye which
was fine in its place. The task was to teach them that here was quality. To
introduce them to a whisky that melted in your mouth, not burned in it.
Re-educating the American palate turned into a crusade.
As James Barclay became a regular passenger on the great ocean liners plying
between Britain and New York, such as the Mauretania and the Queen Mary,
Ballantine's became a familiar fixture on dining room menus. Its acceptance by
wealthy international passengers smoothed its path into the USA, where it
eventually rose to become one of the handful of best-selling brands.
When the Volstead Act was repealed in 1933, their partners
went legitimate and formed an up-market food and whisky import
company, called 21 Brands, becoming agents for Ballantine's. Their unshakeable
enthusiasm enabled Ballantine's to capture the American market and establish
itself as a truly international name.
For a brief period they hired a good-looking young Englishman to sell Ballantine's for them. David Niven, trying to get a break in
movies, wasn't really cut out for the job. Years later, in his best-selling
autobiography, The Moon's A Balloon, he recalled his brief career selling
Ballantine's: 'The first day at work, I was sent to FBI headquarters to
have my fingerprints taken and to be photographed with a number round my neck,
and to this day at "21" is that picture of me: underneath is written
- "Our First and Worst Salesman".'
One of Barclay's closest friends and most valued
partners throughout Prohibition was Harry Hatch, a Toronto businessman and head
of Canadian distillers Hiram Walker Gooderham & Worts. Despite the boom in
American orders, business back in Scotland was struggling through a recession.
Most companies were affected and only 15 distilleries were operating in 1933.
In the same way that Barclay and McKinlay had made the
Ballantine family an offer it had found hard to refuse, Hiram Walker stepped in
after the end of Prohibition and took over the company in 1935. After
developing the art of blending under George and his sons and expanding
internationally with Barclay and McKinlay, Ballantine's entered a period of
growth and investment which ensured its future.
Hiram Walker Steps In
Hiram Walker showed deep understanding of Scotch whisky
distilling. The Canadians lost no time setting about acquiring malt distilleries essential to Ballantine's blends. They interfered very little in
production, wisely leaving the business of making Scotch whisky to Scotsmen.
For many years, all the profits were ploughed back into Hiram Walker (Scotland),
established in 1937.
Jack Barclay was commissioned by Harry Hatch to shop
around for good malt whisky distilleries. He acquired Miltonduff and Glenburgie
in 1936, and immediately embarked on expansion programmes, while elsewhere
Harry Hatch worked on other plans.
Ballantine's blends relied on malt whisky stocks which were now more secure, but grain spirit still had to be purchased from
competitors. While Jack Barclay bought malt distilleries, Harry Hatch laid down
plans to turn an old shipyard on the banks of the River Leven, in Dumbarton,
into the largest grain distillery in Europe.
Dumbarton Rock, rising 73 metres (240ft) from the
Clyde, was the ancient stronghold of the Kingdom of Strathclyde and has been
fortified since the 5th century. The town of Dumbarton, huddled around the
shipyard - now Ballantine's headquarters - was created a Royal burgh in 1222
and rivalled Glasgow as a market town.
A site steeped in history seemed appropriate for Ballantine's to put down roots. More than 600 men worked on the grain
distillery when construction began in 1937. Incorporated into the site were a
small malt distillery, Inverleven, extensive warehousing and a bottling and
blending plant.
The consolidation of administration and operations
meant that Ballantine's headquarters moved to Dumbarton, where blending was
headed by George Robertson. During this period of expansion, the company
continued to maintain its high standards by recruiting only the finest
craftsmen in the region.
The elegant premises at 100 Union Street, Glasgow,
where George Ballantine had experimented with his first blends, closed,
bringing to an end a remarkable era in the history of Scotch whisky.
Growth
On the day the Dumbarton plant was officially opened -
28 September 1938 - the British navy was mobilised in preparation for war. But
Ballantine's survived wartime austerity, and food and fuel crises, to set the
standard for Scotch throughout the world.
Hiram Walker (Scotland) continued to take over the management of malt distilleries - at Glencadam, on the edge of the Highlands;
Scapa in the windswept Orkneys; and Balblair - lending its expertise to improve
their business. It was a time of consolidation. The company invested in Robert
Kilgour, malted barley manufacturers in Kirkcaldy, to secure grain supplies and
built maturation houses for 4 million gallons of whisky at Dumbuck, in
Dumbarton.
Sales of Ballantine's rose to record levels in an era
of remarkable vision and flourishing expansion. A new complex opened at
Kilmalid, a few miles from Dumbarton, in 1977 - the most advanced blending
plant in Europe with a filling and blending capacity of 40 million proof
bottles. A state-of-the-art bottling plant opened on the site in 1982. As the
number of operational bottling lines grew, the staff came to grips with the
sophisticated computer software needed to deal with more than 100 different
sizes and shapes of bottles.
There were 2,700 different labels to deal with and the complex warehouse and despatch facility took time to become familiar with. By
the autumn of 1983, Kilmalid was dealing with approximately four million dozen
bottling and despatch requirements a year, and a single bottling line was
processing 300 bottles a minute. The final cost of the operation, which was
£43million, was one percent below the original estimate.
The Ballantine’s Finest brand was now a world leader, bottled and blended at Kilmalid, and along with the 17 and 30-year-olds, sold a total of nearly 20 million litres on the world market. The Inverleven malt distillery resumed mashing in 1984 and the grain distillery operated a threeday week from January to May. The grain distillery was soon back in business.
The total cost of the Kilmalid bottling plant, which
handles more than 100 million bottles a year, came to £ 43 million. Such was
the faith of Hiram Walker in Ballantine's that board approval was given only
hours after Managing Director Alistair Cunningham presented the project.
In 1987 Hiram Walker (Scotland) merged with Allied
Lyons, bringing Ballantine's into the distinguished company of Teacher's
whisky, Harvey's sherries, Cockburn's ports, Courvoisier cognac and Tia Maria
liqueur. The new phase brought a change in style. There was expansion in
marketing and distribution and more malt distilleries were brought into the
fold, including Glendronach, Ardmore and Laphroaig.
The spirits division, Allied Distillers, began
operating in 1988 as the second largest whisky company worldwide and the only
industry major with its headquarters entirely in Scotland. From the Dumbarton
home established by Hiram Walker, it manages its production from grain to glass
with its own cereal and malting company, Kilgour's, 13 malt and two grain
distilleries, as well as the most advanced bottling plant in the industry at
Kilmalid.
All ADL's brands are major players in the world's
markets, with Ballantine's of primary importance. Today, Ballantine's and its
premium 17 Years Old approach the millennium as a flagship company of Allied
Domecq Spirits and Wines, the wines and spirits sector of Allied Domecq plc, a
group selling more than 8.5 million cases of whisky annually, of which 80 per
cent is enjoyed outside Scotland.
In 1994, ADL was presented with a Queen's Award for
Exports and was the first whisky company to receive a Royal Warrant for a
single malt brand - Laphroaig.
The Evolution
One of the most memorable stories about former Master
Blender Jack Goudy's talent for detecting lapses in quality happened several
years ago when he uncorked a malt whisky sample. It came from an outside
company in the hope that Ballantine's might purchase some to use in its blends.
Jack poured a small quantity and duly inserted his famous nose in the tulip
glass. After sniffing for several seconds, he shook his head in rejection.
There was a flavour in the malt that was completely out of place.
Jack dialled the distilley manager who had sent the
sample and informed him that there was iron in his whisky. Absolutely
impossible, the manager insisted, indignantly denying it. However, Jack was
adamant that his whisky was second-rate. He declined to order any and they
parted on good terms, agreeing to differ about whether the whisky tasted
strangely or not.
Some time later, the manager phoned Jack and sheepishly
admitted the famous nose had been right after all. They had just cleaned out a
vat and, to their embarrassment, discovered that a distillery worker had left a
pair of stepladders inside the last time maintenance was carried out. The steps
were wooden with iron nails.
Since its earliest days, Ballantine's reputation has
been shaped and guided by blenders who insisted on quality. From founder George
Ballantine and his sons, to James Barclay and R.A. McKinlay and the long line
of blenders who have passed on their knowledge down the years.
Because of the mysteries of the maturation process,
some whiskies tend to mature before others. As the spirit interacts with the
wood, each malt reaches its optimum year. Beyond the point of achieving its
equilibrium, it ceases to noticeably change and improve. Creating a new blend
involves the highly skilled task of identifying malts at their best and
estimating their availability over the coming years. There would be nothing
more frustrating than creating a perfect blend only to find that, years down
the line, key ingredients were in short supply.
When Barclay and McKinlay bought the company from the Ballantine family, they laid down malts which slumbered in casks through Prohibition and changes in world history to emerge as mature, rounded whiskies in the 1930s, when Hiram Walker assumed control. In addition, premium malts from the newly-purchased distilleries at Miltonduff and Glenburgie were considered to be of rare quality.
Added to this was the fact that some malts in the Hiram
Walker portfolio had reached exceptional maturity, even the youngest was not
aged for less than 17 years, and they were therefore considered perfect
examples of whiskies in their prime.
James Barclay, who had an excellent nose for whisky,
decided that there had never been a better time to create the ultimate aged
blend and gathered around him experts whose wisdom he could trust. Among them
James Horn, a friend and associate who had studied whiskies for most of his
life, and George Robertson, who became the first Master Blender of the Hiram
Walker era at Ballantine's. George, who had married Barclay's sister, entered
the industry in the customs service, but left to learn the business of making
whisky from the ground floor. He acquired blending skills at several
distilleries, accumulating a formidable wealth of knowledge along the way.
The trio would meet to nose samples in George
Robertson's oak-panelled blending room. After taking careful account of the age
at which each malt reached perfection, he decided that the optimum age was a
blend at least 17 years old. James Barclay, his associate James Horn and the
Hiram Walker management agreed with his judgement. Sample batches were blended
in 1937 and acclaimed by the company's experts. It was the birth of 'The
Scotch', Ballantine's 17 Years Old.
The closely-guarded recipe mixed in vats 60 years ago
has remained largely unchanged ever since. George Robertson's original
selection of malts to form the 'fingerprint' of 17 Years Old was an elite group
described by the Scotch Whisky Association as 'Ballantine's magnificent seven':
pungent Ardbeg from Islay; Pulteney, the northernmost mainland distillery;
Scapa, an after-dinner malt from Orkney; creamy Glencadam; Balblair with its
spicy notes; the flowery fragrance of Miltonduff and the summer flavours of
Glenburgie.
The principal malts were selected from a tapestry of
regional whiskies celebrating Scotland's history, the riches of its landscape
and the skills of its people. With such outstanding ingredients, Ballantine's
17 Years Old had a smoothness and elegance that instantly set it apart.
The first small consignments to roll off the production
line late in 1938 were shipped to 21 Brands in America and the US Virgin Islands.
Thanks to the efforts of Barclay and McKinlay, backed by Kriendler and Berns at
21 Brands, Ballantine's had become one of the most popular brands in America, a
symbol of taste and sophistication.
'This product was different simply because it was so
distinctive,' says Richard Puddephatt, of Ballantine's Brand Integrity
Department. 'At the time there was not another 17 years old blend anywhere on
the market. It was quite unique.'
17 Years Old was considered very special and had to be
seen to be different in every way. A decision was taken to package it in a
style which reflected its importance. The bottle was green, a deliberate choice
which immediately set it apart from other Ballantine's products, at the time in
uniformly-coloured amber bottles.
'The sides of the bottle, if you observe closely, are slightly tapered, not straight like most whisky bottles,' Richard points out.
'The neck is quite squat and reminiscent of a malt whisky pot still. Perhaps
someone who designed it all those years ago saw it as a tribute to the
hand-crafted skills of the pot stillmen that went into it. As with many
classics, the shape has remained unchanged.'
The WW II Phase
In 1939, the world was embroiled in war. As the
conflict lengthened, vital supplies of barley and stocks of new malt whisky
dried up. Ballantine's 17 Years Old, made from old matured stock, continued to
be blended and shipped to America, but it was clear that serious shortages were
on the way.
When war was declared, the government imposed a tax on
whisky which increased the price of a bottle by 14 per cent. Desperate for
dollar earnings to boost the war effort, the authorities pressured whisky
companies to step up overseas sales.
As Ballantine's was among the foremost exporters,
cargoes of blended whisky set sail for America escorted by warships. With
production down, home sales hit by tax, grain in short supply and men called up
for the armed forces, whisky production slumped. In 1942, another duty increase
pushed up the price of a bottle by 60 per cent.
For two years, no whisky was produced at Dumbarton.
Only existing stocks of Ballantine's were exported as the Admiralty took over
the distillery yard and the Ministry of Food commandeered warehouses.
Demand for distinctive 17 Years Old, considered the smoothest international Scotch, was heavy. To eke out supplies to America and Canada, Hiram Walker had to juggle stocks of Ballantine's 28 Years Old and 31 Years Old aged blends. For many years, 17 Years Old had to be strictly rationed and sometimes faced acute shortages.
Rejuvenation Peace and the post-war years brought a
boom time for 17 Years Old as the global economy changed up a gear from
austerity to plenty.
The Japanese, who had their own long-established
spirits industry, were very knowledgeable about whisky and particularly
interested in international aged brands. The full effect began to be felt in
the early 1950s, when Japanese businessmen travelling overseas discovered the
delights of 17 Years Old. They took bottles home and its fame spread by word of
mouth.
One of the prime reasons for its popularity was that
its highly sophisticated taste and subtle layers of flavour were suited to the
Japanese palate, which is particularly sensitive to the nuances of good food
and drink.
Like several of the world's classic whiskies, its
reputation grew slowly as people discovered its quality. In 1952, Japan
received its first shipments and its fame among those who appreciate fine
whisky began to gain pace. Its launch in Tokyo the following year was a cause
for double celebration - by coincidence it was also the coronation of Queen
Elizabeth II.
The newest whisky in Japan was not only the most unique
blend, but also the most expensive. 'From the earliest days the advertising was
stark, almost minimalist,' explains Richard Puddephatt, 'because the product
said it all. When there was only one Scotch, there was little more you needed
to add.'
Japanese executives appreciated what Ballantine's
blenders had set out to achieve in 17 Years Old. The reputation of The Scotch
spread almost on its quality alone.
One of the reasons for the popularity of 17 Years Old
among people who appreciate fine whisky is that it travels so well. Drinking
styles differ around the world. Some people prefer their Scotch neat, others
with a little water or, as in Japan, with ice. 17 Years Old has an ability to
blend with international lifestyles.
Two bottles of Ballantine’s were being sold every second and the Dumbarton-distilled, bottled and packaged whisky became the
third best-selling whisky in the world. But the end of the year, when Steve
McCann retired and Alistair Cunningham took over, was the end of an era. In
1987 the merger took place of Hiram Walker (Canada) and Allied Vintners, a
subsidiary of Allied Lyons plc.
New brands such as Teachers whisky and Harvey’s Bristol
Cream were brought into the fold as the new company stepped up its marketing
operation. Remarkable things happened. British Open Golf Champion, Sandy Lyle,
sponsored by Ballantine’s, won the US Tournament Players’ Championship.
A former London taxi bearing the Ballantine’s emblem
was to be seen in Abidjan, capital of the Ivory Coast. A Ballantine’s Club was
opened in Budapest and the Canary Islands were the venue for a Ballantine’s
tennis tournament. By the end of 1987, Ballantine’s sold 4.4 million cases and
was moving up the ranks in the league table for the world’s leading Scotch
whisky brand. In 2007 Ballentine's won gold in all six categories at the Whisky Master Awards.
Everything changes with time. By the Spring of 2017 the
Ballantine’s distilling, bottling and blending operation at Castle Street had
been razed to the ground. The two million red bricks imported from the United
States 80 years earlier had been ground into rubble to make way for a new
housing and shopping complex. Meanwhile, now owned by Chivas, the whole
emphasis had shifted away to Kilmalid where exciting changes were taking place.
There would be a new blending plant and bottling hall
on the banks of the River Leven with a magnificent outlook to Loch Lomond and
the Argyllshire Hills. It has been welcomed by the Scottish Government and West
Dunbartonshire Council as something which will guarantee hundreds of jobs and
raise the spirits of the whole community here.
Ballantine's finest is Europe's No 1 Scotch whisky and also was voted World's Best Blended Scotch 2020. 'Only an exceptionally good whisky can adapt to that
extent without bruising easily,' observes Ballantine's Director of Trade
Relations, Hector MacLennan.
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