What connects Norwich, Bordeaux, Sherry, Madeira, Postcodes, and Fleurie?
I had a 'mare this weekend - sorry. We'll have another go. And here's a story that shows wine connections are everywhere.
I was meant to have a Substack live this weekend about our new series on how you can improve and develop your wine writing, broadcasting and communicating.
I know. There was no Substack live this weekend. Owing to a breakdown in communications.
As the hour approached we had one of those crises that happens when you have a toddler (21 months) and a tweenie (6). The sort of all-consuming, comfort-requiring, who’s-going-to-run-the-bath?, where-do-we-keep-the-plasters? kind of crisis. By the time the air cleared, half the hour had gone. And understandably so had everyone who wanted to join. Except Jake. Thank you for keeping me company Jake.
We will do it FOR CERTAIN again on Sunday. Same time, same place. Sunday 7.00pm UK time. Click here on the day. Add it to your calendar here. We’re going to…
Decide who you’re writing and communicating FOR?
Learn the quick technique that guarantees you’ll create engaging articles, videos, and Insta reels about wine
What Nikocado Avocado, Howard Gossage, and the Hegelian Dialectic can tell us about engaging with your audience.
But mostly why you should never write for consumers, only audiences.
I do hope you can forgive last week’s disaster. And that you’ll join on Sunday. This is a free for all. The posts that follow and sessions will be for paid subscribers.
Hidden Wine History is Everywhere
Today I was tasting wines at The Warehouse Wine Company. The UK’s finest place to drink better, spend less. I know. I would say that wouldn’t I? I’m part of the team. But it is. Wines like this prove you can drinking interestingly and with good value.
But what connects The Warehouse Wine Company’s offices in Norwich, with the most dramatic and significant moment in English wine history?
The answer - it turns out - is on this bit of medieval priory. Just outside the office. That’s not just a gothic door. It’s a rabbit hole.
As I walked past this morning, my eye was drawn to the green plaque on the left. The name was familiar…
“Talbot”.
Indeed, it’s a name familiar to anyone in wine. As it’s the name of a particularly famous Chateau Talbot in Bordeaux.
And it turns out they’re very much linked.
Lady Eleanor Talbot (left) was the daughter of Sir John Talbot, the Earl of Shrewsbury (middle). He was an English general based in Bordeaux during the Hundred Years War. Indeed he was the last English general in Bordeaux in the Hundred Years War as he subsequently lost the Battle of Castillon where he was “finished off with a battleaxe”. The battle marked the end of three hundred and one years of English rule, that had begun with the marriage of Henry II (of Anjou) to Eleanor (another one) of Aquitaine. But in happier times, Sir John had been the owner of an estate in St Julien which is today called… Chateau Talbot.
So here, in an office park, alongside a canal, in Norwich… is the last resting place of the daughter of the man who lost Bordeaux for the English.
Of course rabbit holes have lots of chambers. Often with links to wine.
Sir John Talbot had previously fought alongside John Fastolf, later memorialised as John Falstaff by Shakespeare. Shakespeare characterised Falstaff as an epic boozer. Usually of “sack” or sherry.
If I had a thousand sons, the first humane principle I would teach them should be, to forswear thin potations and to addict themselves to sack.
Lady Eleanor has a curious booze link too.
Historians are only lately getting to grips with the importance of Lady Eleanor Talbot to medieval history. But she appears to have been at the heart of the downfall of The House of York, leading to the (unlikely) reign of the Tudor Henry VII and a lot of Shakespeare plays that you may have read, studied, and/or seen. This all rests on her having possibly married Edward IV in secret. The details are here for historians. But for wine fans one of the consequences was that Edward IV fell out with all his family so epically he executed his own brother, The Duke of Clarence by drowning him in a butt of malmsey (Madeira). Or at least that’s how Shakespeare reckoned he did it.
I shall add all this to my list of “fascinating things about Norwich”. It is the best preserved medieval city in the UK, in part because it was the second largest city in medieval England. It’s the only British city in a national park, the home of TV legends Delia Smith and Alan Partridge, and was the first place to have modern three-letter postcodes in 1959.
The postcodes were introduced by government minister Ernest Marples. Today Marples is best remembered for his downfall; he liked to be whipped by prostitutes while wearing women’s clothing, and he fled in the night to exile in Monaco when the Inland Revenue tried to claim thirty years of unpaid tax from him. But he wasn’t all bad. He loved wine, and spent his final years as a producer in Fleurie to great acclaim.
This is the sort of nonsense I write. You can do better. Join me on Sunday at 7.00pm UK time to start your journey. Click here on the day. Add it to your calendar here.
Hilarious! These zig-zagging tales are priceless. Marples sounds like a cad and a bounder to boot!