Of the twenty-one Irish distilleries, three make a pure malt whiskey, the famous ‘Old Bushmills’ Distillery at Bushmills, Co. Antrim, near Portrush, and the Coleraine and Killowen Distilleries, both in Co. Derry. A grain spirit is distilled at Abbey Street, Londonderry, and at Avoniel and Connswater (with pot-still), Belfast. It will be seen that all these are situated in the three north-eastern counties. All the rest make a pot-still whiskey. There are two distilleries at Comber, Co. Down, both owned by the same firm, two at Londonderry, Limavady and Waterside, and one in Belfast, the Royal Irish Distillery, where Dunville’s well-known whiskey is made.
Four English distilleries—three in London: Wands-worth, Hammersmith, and Three Mills;32 and one in Liverpool, Bankhall—produce grain spirit.
There is, fortunately for the reader’s patience, no longer any need to discuss the geography of whisky in America (though Canadian whisky distilled from rye, maize, etc. should be mentioned as a competitor with the less distinctive Scotch blends). It may be presumed that the ingenuity of the American people is finding its own remedies for the perils of Prohibition33 and bootleg whisky, though, as a matter of fact, having observed the effects on the health of the population of several hard bitten Scottish cities, of a few ‘dumped’ shiploads of Kentucky rye whisky, I am inclined to doubt whether the present régime can hold much greater terrors than the old. Prohibition has added two more names to the nomenclature of whisky: ‘Squirrel’ whisky, so called because it induces in its devotees an irresistible desire to climb trees, and ‘Rabbit’ whisky which creates an impulse to leap and run.
But the whisky student has already enough names to remember without troubling his memory with the zoological brands of the United States. As an aid in his attempts to remember the classic whiskies, the crude doggerel which is here appended may have some value, although, being the work, as I understand, of a Sassenach poetaster, it has taken some liberties with Celtic pronunciation which may excite the anger or derision of the Gael.34
RHYMED GUIDE
to the Highland, Islay and Campbeltown
malt whiskies of Scotland
Name we first the brands that rule in
Islay in the Western seas:
Bruichladdich, Lagavulin,
Bunnahabain, and Laphroaig.
Once I (lucky fellow!) fell in
With a man who had Port Ellen!
Though, indeed, as good as these
Is Bowmore or Caol Ila,
Celtic witch and arch-beguiler,
Ard Beg, Malt Mill. And I shall
Surely drink more Lochindaal.
Last port seen by westering sail,
’Twixt the tempest and the Gael,
Campbeltown in long Kintyre
Mothers there a son of fire,
Deepest-voiced of all the choir.
Solemnly we name this Hector
Of the West, this giant’s nectar:
Benmore, Scotia, and Rieclachan,
Kinloch, Springside, Hazelburn,
Glenside, Springbank, and Lochruan,
Lochhead. Finally, to spurn
Weaklings drunk and cowards sober,
Summon we great Dalintober.
Children of the Highland hills,
Products of the Highland stills,
Now’s no hour to ponder faults,
Toy with test-tubes, sniff at malts,
Open-chested must we sing:
Away with care—the drink’s the thing!
Fearing neither sir nor madam,
Praise we Dufftown and Glencadam.
Wanderer over hill and moor,
Weary, welcomes Edradour,
Purchasing new strength to loin
With Glendronach or Glengoyne,
Glenlochie, or ripe Strath Dee,
Cragganmore and Benachie.
Pious priest at mass or matin,
’Mid the murmur of his Latin.
Thinks of Mortlach or Tomatin,
Sinning so, but is there any
Sin in dreaming of Balvenie,
Brackla, Millburn, or Glenfiddich,
Cardow, Banff, or Teaninich?
Sailor after months of sailing,
Fishing, yachting, cruising, whaling,
Hears the joyous cry of ‘land oh!’
Thirsts at once for choice Knockando.
Let the magistracy glower,
Let the law put forth its power,
He will drink the good Inchgower,
Tamdhu, Parkmore, Aberlour,
And damnation to the finny
Tribes of ocean in Dalwhinnie,—
Drink until the stars go out.
Not for us such deep-sea bout.
Quiet tipplers in our class
Are content with Glenfarclas,
Nor does fancy with us soar
Far beyond sound Convalmore,
Oban, Coleburn, or Dalmore,
With mayhap a straying wish
Towards Glen Elgin or Clyne Lish.
Hopeful nephew bound to see
Wealthy and repulsive aunt
(Shadows of a legacy)
Should equip him with Glen Grant,
He will find the interview
Smoother sailing on Knockdhu.
When debate grows over-heated,
Chairs thrown down and men unseated,
To restore both law and order
Bring in Dallas Dhu, Glen Cawdor,
Speyburn, Longmorn, or Strathmill.
Quick the tempest will be still
And sweet reason reign again
With the flow of Dailuaine.
If an angel unawares
Your domestic table shares,
You will not be wrong to give it
Tumblers of the real Glenlivet!
Serious poets, short of rhymes,
As we all may be betimes,—
For ars longa, vita brevis—
Woo the muse with good Ben Nevis,
Though the wench will come no less
For Glengarioch or Stromness,
Scapa or fine Highland Park,
Lighteners of Orcadian dark.
Men will talk most brilliant bosh
On a diet of Ferintosh,
Argue, with emphatic oaths,
Black is yellow on Glenrothes,
Prove that four and four make nine
If encouraged by Glenfyne,
And, in paradoxic fury,
Square the circle with Glenurie.
Converts have been made, they say,
To some quite grotesque belief
By Strath Isla and Glenspey
And Glenturret (made in Crieff ).
Cunning preachers rope the sullen
Heathen folk in with Glendullan.
In melée or collieshangie
Glentauchers or Glenmorangie
Timid mortals will inspire
With a high heroic ire,
Though their sudden fits of wrath’ll
Quickly pass before Blair Atholl.
Leaders of the hopeless charge,
Rallying for one assault more,
Should have come equipped with large
Flasks of Pulteney or of Aultmore,
Or at least another score
Liquors veterans will think good:
Isla, Ben Romach, Glen Mohr,
Balmenach, Glenburgie, Linkwood,
North Port, Angus-reared at Brechin,
Aberfeldy or Ballechin.
While the vanquished in the fray,
Fleeing to the nearest bar,
Counsel take with Auchenblae,
Comfort seek in Lochnagar,
And, when human courage fails,
Stronachie the foe assails.
Scholar, drinking with a lout,
Knocked his boon companion out,
Bawling egotistically, ‘Shall an
Embecile enjoy Macallan?
Craigellachie and Imperial
Are designed for souls aetherial!’
Sad that aca
demic rage
Should pollute my peaceful page;
Class and faction I abhor on
Towiemore or Ord-Glenoran;
Ragged cap and top-hat glossy
Meet as equals on Glenlossie,
Bury hatchets in a hurry
In Glenugie or Glenmoray,
Talisker or Milton-Duff
(Damned be he cries, ‘Hold, enough!’)
Rounding off at last the story
(Highland section) put we Finis
With Glen Albyn, Tobermory,
Glenglassauch, and Benrinnes.
1 While geographical classifications remain of some value it is broadly true to say that they are less important today than was the case before the war. This section is therefore of greater historical interest than current relevance, though the reader may find a discussion of lost distilleries, such as those of Campbeltown, more than a little poignant.
2 With increased mechanisation and greater and tighter process control, it may be conceded that the consistency of spirit output has been greatly improved since MacDonald was writing. However, his romantic view of the still-man as the possessor of arcane knowledge acquired over years, decades even, of dedicated labour still appeals to the aficionado of single malt and is exploited in the marketing literature of more than one distillery. It is a powerful, appealing and evocative image—even if the reality of the still-man’s daily routine is more closely related to the monitoring of a computer screen from behind the pages of a newspaper.
3 Until a very traditionally-minded distiller, most probably from the recent generation of ‘craft’ producers, can be persuaded to experiment in this way it would seem that the taste of whisky distilled in a peat-fired spirit still must remain in the imagination.
4 Distilleries do indeed praise the quality and purity of their water supply, though it seems to me that we have heard less of this in recent years than once was the case. Wood, one might almost observe, is the new water.
5 This would seem to be a reference to the Nevis distillery in Fort William, built in 1878 to meet the growing demand for whisky from the nearby Ben Nevis distillery, which was then in the same ownership.
Barnard writes about both, but devotes more space to the Nevis distillery which, at the time of his visit, was the larger of the two, producing around seventy per cent more whisky than Ben Nevis. Unusually, the still-house in Nevis is illustrated in Barnard and shows a curious arrangement of partial condensers on the wash stills and what appears, at a tantalising distance, to be an experimental spirit still.
Paradoxically, while he does not specifically mention the Ben Nevis water source, Barnard goes to considerable length to praise the water used at Nevis, even quoting an analyst’s report and noting that it is the same source that supplies Ben Nevis.
What are we to make of this? Was the proprietor anxious perhaps to scotch any lingering rumours about the quality of the original water? In any event, by 1908 it appears to have been closed and, as MacDonald relates, the buildings were in use as warehouses for Ben Nevis. (Continued on page 87.)
While one cannot conclude absolutely that this report relates to the Nevis operation, tales of poor water quality do on occasion attach themselves to various distilleries. A similar story circulated in connection with Glenglassaugh—without, as it happens, any basis in truth. An earlier version of this anecdote appears in Irish whiskey’s literature in the 1925 pamphlet Elixir of Life issued by John Jameson & Sons with illustrations by the noted Irish artist Harry Clarke.
6 Quite simply not a sentence that could or would be written today.
7 East Anglian barley is frequently preferred by maltsters due to its lower moisture content. As a general rule the Scotch whisky industry now sources its barley internationally. Larger brands which once made great play of their use of a particular variety, regarding it as a pillar of their identity, have now quietly abandoned the golden promise of that claim. Some smaller producers such as Bruichladdich still source much of their barley as locally as possible and are able to offer expressions made exclusively with Scottish barley. However, it is an undeniable fact that there is simply not enough malting barley grown in Scotland to support the distillers’ demands, and whatever the romantic appeal and traditional claims of home-grown barley, in order to sustain current levels of production Scotch whisky will have to continue the use of foreign barley for the foreseeable future.
8 See the earlier note on geographical classifications.
9 Strange as it may seem, I am not going to attempt to give a definitive number for the number of distilleries currently operating in Scotland—largely because the number keeps changing and you will find the current information on the web.
The answer, if grain distilleries are included, will be ‘about a hundred’, but there are only seven grain distilleries. Incidentally, the one you can’t think of, even if you are a serious whisky enthusiast, is the determinedly anonymous Starlaw near Bathgate where a French group built a large state-of-the-art plant a few years ago.
That means there are more than ninety single malt distilleries, but with the explosion of small craft distilleries it’s hard to keep up: the number could well be over a hundred as you read this. And some large distilleries are being built as well, such as Inchdairnie in Fife, but we won’t see its single malt until 2028 at the earliest.
However, it is still the case that the Highland region, including Speyside, accounts for the largest number. Sadly, both Campbeltown and the Lowland region have declined in importance since MacDonald was writing.
10 Even as MacDonald was writing there were further closures in Campbeltown. There were a variety of interrelated factors behind this collapse.
Today only Springbank and (Glen) Scotia survive from his original list, though Glengyle has subsequently been restored and re-opened. None of these three could be described as a major producer, and Campbeltown today is a pale imitation of its former glory. MacDonald’s description of them is poignant: one wonders just how aware he was of the Campbeltown industry’s parlous state in 1930. However, writing around forty years earlier, a clearly unimpressed Alfred Barnard described the regional style as ‘thin’, only ‘to be used in moderation [in blends] and never allowed to predominate’.
11 Lochindaal closed around 1929 and, despite relatively recent plans to rebuild, has never worked since. Only the warehouses survive.
Port Ellen was closed in 1983 and will not re-open. During the 1980s all of the surviving distilleries were working at a low ebb, if at all, and Islay whisky was out of favour both with the blenders and the consumer. However, the style has enjoyed a considerable revival since then. A small farmhouse-style distillery was opened at Kılchoman in 2005, and there are currently tentative proposals for a further three new operations with the possibility of yet more to be announced.
12 Unusually for any distillery, Lagavulin, which celebrated its two hundredth anniversary of legal distilling in 2016, is mentioned by name in a number of Victorian sources. Distilling is said to have begun on the site in 1742.
13 Presumably Glengoyne.
14 The Stromness distillery had, in fact, closed by this date but is remembered for its charming publicity materials (see illustration over page).
Scapa is working today under the ownership of Chivas Brothers. It is notable for operating a Lomond still, somewhat modified.
15 This tale appears in Barnard, but I think it more likely that MacDonald has taken it directly from promotional material issued by the distillery in 1924. The story appears in their little pamphlet, A Good Foundation, where we read “when Excisemen attended the services (from motives not unconnected with the Spirit!) he is said to have announced the psalms in tones of unusual unction”.
Such was his haste in working that he has transcribed the date that the distillery was founded incorrectly! A few lines above the sentence quoted from A Good Foundation it is given there correctly as 1798; MacDonald has 1789. Such are the perils of plagiarism.
16 The origin
al Clynelish distillery mentioned here was renamed Brora in 1969 when the adjacent new Clynelish distillery was commissioned. The original distillery was then operated intermittently until 1983 when it was finally closed.
17 Glen Skiach closed in 1926, as did Ferintosh, bearer of a noble name. Presumably MacDonald was unaware of the closure or assumed it to be temporary.
18 The three Inverness distilleries are all closed and their sites cleared for housing or retail, as is the case with Glenlochie (more usually styled Glenlochy—either way, it is now lost).
19 Glenfyne closed in 1937.
20 Of the distilleries mentioned here Ballechin (1927), Isla (1926), Glengyle (c. 1925), Glencoull (1929), North Port (1983), Auchenblae (1926), Glenurie, later Royal Glenury (1985), Strathdee (1938) and Glenugie (1983) are all now closed.
21 A new distillery, MacDuff, was built by the River Deveron in 1962–63 to a then radical design. It continues to operate to this day.
22 Captain Fraser was a notoriously tricky character to deal with, being fined more than once for breaching the distillery laws. Despite this, the distillery held two Royal Warrants by 1838. He is mentioned in distinctly unflattering terms in Joseph Pacy’s Reminiscences of a Gauger (1873), though Pacy himself appears to have been something of a martinet.
Today the distillery, much remodelled, is operated by John Dewar & Sons and most of the output goes to that company’s blends.
23 With the exception of Dallas Dhu, now a museum, and Coleburn, closed in 1985, all of these distilleries remain open.
24 Of the distilleries mentioned here, Convalmore (1985—an especially sad loss), Imperial (closed 1998 and demolished but a new distillery, Dalmunach, was opened on the site in 2013), Parkmore (1931, though the warehouses remained in use until at least the late 1990s and possibly longer) and Towiemore (1930/31) are all permanently closed.
25 Christopher North was the pen name of Professor John Wilson, whose Noctes Ambrosianae (Ambrosian Nıghts) appeared between 1822–1835 in Blackwood’s Magazine. These consisted of a series of fictional observations purported to have been made by a cast of characters in Ambrose’s Tavern, Edinburgh (also imaginary but said to be based on Tıbbie Shiels Inn by St Mary’s Loch).
Whisky Page 11