Darnley's View Spiced Gin with Walter Scott

If Sir Walter Scott had done gin marketing I'm pretty sure he'd have come up with something very like this:

“With renowned expertise for the production of fine wines and spirits, our gin is made from a family recipe and captures the moment in 1565 when Mary Queen of Scots spied her future husband, Lord Darnley, through the courtyard window at Wemyss Castle. From this marriage came a prince who later united the thrones of England and Scotland as James VI and Ist. We like to think of Darnley’s son, conceived through a union that began at Wemyss, as a symbol of our desire to combine the best of England and Scottish distilling to create a unique gin.” 

So it's appropriate that D bought me back this bottle from Scott country (if he will go to the Borders without me, a bottle of gin to return with is the least he can do...) I like to think that Scott himself would have enjoyed the cinnamon and nutmeg notes in this gin too, they're flavours that seem as at home in Sir Walter's time as they do in the sixteenth century.

For myself it's conformation that if it's not going to be all about the juniper, than a spice influenced gin will hit the spot (as far as personal taste goes I'm less keen on floral gins, subtlety is not apparently my thing in a drink). Dar let's View Spiced has an appropriately spice rack nose, is a pleasingly well balanced gin (quite smooth enough to drink nest, but good in a G&T, and apparently makes a very good negroni too, I've also seen it mentioned in connection to hot punches which will be something to explore in a month or two) and really follows through with its promises on the palate. The nutmeg and cinnamon are definitely there, not overwhelming, but unmistakably present, clove and ginger also play their part - overall the impression is of warm spiciness. It's a great addition to a gin collection - well made, and with something different to offer.

I think I'd drink this with just about any Walter Scott novel, not least because the descriptions of illicitly distilled whisky that I've read make it sound as much like gin as a modern day malt. The initial process of pot stilling is the same. Early moonshine type whisky wouldn't have had the years of ageing in oak casks which is where the colour and much of the flavour we now recognise comes from. But it seems it was flavoured in various ways to make it more palatable - though not with juniper, but still I think it would have been harder to tell the two spirits apart.

'Kenilworth' is the book that springs to mind, it's also the Scott I want to read next, but a hot gin punch would go just as well with 'Waverley', or indeed any of Scott's romantic presentations of Scottish history that I've read so far (and it seems safe to assume all the ones I haven't read too). Scott can be wordy, and slow going until you give in and decide to enjoy the pace he sets - which is probably why he's so unfashionable these days. Given the chance though he can also be deeply enjoyable to read, and he should be given the chance.

The Lay of the Last Minstrel - Sir Walter Scott

For most of my life the Scottish borders were somewhere that we passed through on the way North or South without ever stopping to look at and then perhaps a decade ago my father and stepmother got a place near Hawick, the borders became an actual destination and I fell in love with what turned out to be Scott country. Growing up I was easily as familiar with Scott as I was with Shakespeare; Scott is inextricably bound up with a particular strain of Scottish identity (Ivanhoe, the Scott monument, Waverley station and later on the idea of tartan and chivalry) in a way that's quite unique. 

Scott's baronial fantasy of a house at Abbotsford came up during my degree when I put it on a mental list of places I'd like to visit and then promptly forgot about it to the extent that it was an effort of memory to recall where I'd heard the name before the first time we drove past a sign for it. Since then I've managed to visit 3 times - it's a charming spot - and actually managed to read some Scott all the way through. If I hadn't got to know the part of the borders where Scott spent parts of his childhood, later chose to settle, and uses to set some of his books I probably wouldn't have got very far with him. A previous attempt had been with 'The Pirate' because it was set in Shetland, I guess it came from the latter part of his career when he was writing to pay of liabilities, it certainly isn't one of his better books. The right setting for the reader can be very encouraging though and a curiosity about border history (undoubtedly colourful) got me through 'The Bride of Lammermoor' (which I enjoyed) and 'Old Mortality' (which I enjoyed even more) so once I got out of the Midlands and somewhere near the lake district on the train I cracked open 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' and gave it my best effort. 

An effort was needed because I'm not used to reading poetry, certainly not at this length, and I don't think it's a particularly easy thing to do and enjoy when you're not used to it but the effort was well rewarded. This poem in six cantos is told by an old minstrel - the last of his kind - to Anna, Duchess of Buccleuch (published in 1805 the tale is set in the sixteenth century but narrated in the seventeenth century) concerning the exploits of some of her ancestors. There are brave Knights, beautiful maidens, elements of witchcraft and sorcery, battles, duels, abductions and more, all of which is very exciting, the descriptions of Melrose abbey by moonlight are as vivid and appealing as anything I've read - it really is a page turner. (I read chunks of it aloud which also took some getting used to; it helped it to come alive but was also quite distracting.)

I'm inclined to be a little bit evangelical about Scott - I believe he deserves more of an audience than he willingly gets, he's an incredibly important writer - not just influential as a novelist (John Sutherland says 'he did not merely create fiction, he procreated it' which is as neat a summing up as you could wish for) but also in how significantly he contributed to the romantic conception of Scotland as a country. Something that's surely very relevant at a time when we're debating devolution and independence (I imagine Scott would have been pro union). I also believe that you have to want to read him to really enjoy his books, they've certainly called for a certain amount of perseverance in my experience. It would have been easy to a read bit of 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' and not bother with the rest simply because of the amount of concentration needed to untangle the plot from the verse and stay on top of it (and I don't feel that one reading is enough) but not to have read it thoroughly would have meant missing out on some really good stuff. 

My copy now has an oak leaf from Abbotsford pressed between the pages to act as a bookmark - it's very much in the spirit of the thing and I will read it again. I've noticed with previous Scott novels I've read that the introductions have a vaguely apologetic air about them, they talk of reading strategies and suggest that it would be alright to skip various bits and I find myself doing much the same thing because he's not the easiest writer to recommend but for anyone minded to enjoy the classics he has a lot to offer and 'The Lay of the Last Minstrel' is a great example of that.   

Old Mortality - Sir Walter Scott

I had carefully sort of planned holiday reading (Trollope and Macfarlane) but on my way out of the flat en route to the airport changed my mind and opted for Walter Scott's 'Old Mortality' (and I bet you were all fascinated to read that...) I am an almost evangelical convert to the idea of taking one big fat classic on holiday and virtually nothing else, 'Old Mortality' was positive reinforcement. 

In one of his novels Robertson Davies has a character make a joke about Scott claiming that he's no longer an 'author' but an 'influence'. I can't judge how accurate that is but there's no doubt that his fame and popularity have suffered a reversal in fortune. It's hard to grasp now just how big a deal Scott was in his day, an author with an international reputation, a train station named after him, and arguably the man responsible for tartan as we know it and all that goes with that - and yet how many people read him for pleasure these days? 

If you are going to read Scott (and he's worth the effort) 'Old Mortality' is a good place to start. I read and enjoyed 'The Bride of Lammermoor' a while back but found 'Old Mortality' even more accessible - due in part to the excellent introduction (my copy is the Oxford World Classics edition) which among other things gives guidelines about how to read the text; basically skip the introductions, get into the action proper, don't be distracted by the explanatory notes, don't worry about the dialect sections (go with it, they soon make sense) and be aware of Scott's perspective. It's good advice, Scott was a 19th century tory intent on presenting a 17th century situation in a way that suited him (I'm relying on the introduction for my information here) historical accuracy isn't always the top of his agenda. I knew nothing about the covenanter's or the killing time beforehand so didn't find the double perspective much of an issue, though as with all good history writing I'm now keen to learn more.

The action opens at a sort of latter day jousting tournament (wappenshaw) where young Henry Morton is taking all the honours - much to the secret delight of Edith Bellenden, but on his way home he falls into company with a man who knew his father. These are dangerous times; Scotland and it's whiggish covenanter's are not popular with the king (Charles the second) to the extent that the army is imposed on the countryside to keep order- a situation they're happy to exploit, the mood is volatile, and the stranger Henry meets turns out to be a murderous fanatic whose company endangers our hero's life. Henry Morton is forced by circumstance into taking arms against the king and eventually into exile. Meanwhile Edith's family also find themselves in dire straights with Edith convinced her lover is a traitor to everything she holds dear.

It's an exciting, fast paced read, Scott was rightly proud of this book. He throws in a bit of comedy which is both welcome and funny, and plenty of drama, but the main thing is the pace, sometimes it can be a struggle to keep momentum reading books this old as the action gets bogged down in pages and pages of words that feel like they're going nowhere. Scott doesn't do that here and I wonder if this is the key to why he was such a phenomenon in his day.  

The Bride of Lammermoor – Sir Walter Scott

The Borders is Walter Scott country and although on a previous visit I made it over to Abbotsford it’s many years since I attempted to read any of Scott’s books; my last try was ‘The Pirate’ which I spent time on getting because it’s set in Shetland and failed to finish because it’s unbelievably turgid stuff (deservedly all but out of print I’m sorry to say). Still it’s been on my mind to have another try for a while and New Year what with being in the heartland seemed like a good time, Oxford University Press were kind enough to let me have a copy of ‘The Bride of Lammermoor’ and that was me set (fortunately I didn’t forget to pack this one).

I’m glad I’ve given Scott another go because I thoroughly enjoyed ‘The Bride of Lammermoor’ (there will be more Scott in my near future) it’s a rattling good read. I was expecting something a little drier than the heady mix of adventure, romance, and mysticism dished up here, Scott is a lot more fun than I thought he’d be. ‘The Bride of Lammermoor’ is set around 1707 – Queen Anne is on the throne and I think the act of union between Scotland and England is just taking place Jacobite Tories are getting the thin end of the wedge and Edgar, Master of Ravenswood, is burying his father with all due ceremony and what remains of his fortune. Robbed of his patrimony by the machinations of Lord Ashton he swears vengeance for himself and his father and sets off back to his ancestral home to challenge Ashton before a planned flight to the continent and the cause of the king over the water.

Things don’t go quite according to plan, instead of bloody revenge Edgar rescues Sir William and his inconveniently beautiful daughter from certain death in the form of a rampaging wild bull (which makes me wonder – did Trollope borrow the bull incident in ‘The Small House at Allington’ from Scott? He certainly alludes to Jeanie Deans from ‘The Heart of Midlothian’). Out of pure chivalry Edger carries Lucy to a woodland grotto reputed to be fatally unlucky to the Ravenswood’s and unsurprisingly she falls in love with the handsome stranger who saves her life. Sir William is grateful too and determines to do something for the young master especially when it seems the political tide is about to turn and Edgar’s chances of reclaiming the family property are beginning to look good.

With this in mind Sir William encourages an intimacy between the young couple to grow up which ends in a secret engagement and the return of Lady Ashton. Lady Ashton could give Lady Macbeth (and Mrs Proudie) a run for her money and isn’t precisely pleased with the way things are going. Edgar is banished and Lucy effectively imprisoned whilst her mother sets to work on breaking her spirit – to such good effect that when Edger finally returns it’s to witness her signing the settlements to marry another man. It’s not destined to be a happy marriage though – the bride loses her mind and stabs the bridegroom on their wedding night (this is actually based quite closely on a true story).

I know that’s all quite spoiler heavy but the contents of classics are generally reasonably well known, and the fascination (as well as the pleasure and humour) is in the detail. There are ghost stories and fairy tales, a trio of old hags who form a gruesome chorus, a comic turn in the form of a faithful family retainer determined to keep up appearances (he will go to any lengths to do this), and Lady Ashton whose villainy I’ve only hinted at. There’s also some really good stuff on the state of Scotland at the time of union, and on the nature of the relationships between master and man as the country emerges from the feudal clan system (who could want more?)

I found Lucy a fascinating heroine – at the outset she’s still a girl more than half immersed in the idea of romance. Loving, kind, and the darling of all but her mother she is described as having “the softness of a mind, amounting almost to a feebleness” there is part approbation and part warning in this statement. Lucy’s softness allows her to accommodate the needs of all, especially the men (in the form of father and brothers) around her; there are no rough edges to exacerbate them, or to make anyone fear her. She needs the masculine strength of a Ravenswood to cling to for support, and he in his turn is the more deeply ensnared because he feels she needs his protection so despite both parties feeling some trepidation regarding the personality of the other they become increasingly interdependent.

Lady Ashton knowing her daughters weakness no doubt feels that bending her will should be an easy matter. It isn’t, once Lucy’s passions are awakened she is set on a course of silent resistance the breaking down of which utterly destroys her – but all of this is discussed far more expertly in the introduction so I should probably stop now before my word count runs wildly out of control.