Whisky Making and The Old Smuggling Days

 The old traditions of illicit whisky making in the secret places in the glens has much the same romance attached to it as poaching or smuggling. Any activity which involved secrecy, bravery, plus defiance of authority has always captured the public's imagination. Just ask Robin Hood.

 The heyday of making whisky illegally only lasted for a few decades, but it left a cultural resonance imprinted in the places involved. Some sites where stills were covertly constructed are still being uncovered in the modern age. 

   Part of the success of whisky making and smuggling was its acceptance not only by consumers but also by 'respectable' members of society. The following story appeared in The Montrose Review, Friday 27 February 1931:

The old weavers of Forfar were, like many others in the district, great friends of the smugglers, and many kegs of whisky were secreted by them which the smuglers brought into town. The time of the expected arrival of smugglers was conveyed by messengers, generally the local carriers, and arrangements were made to meet them. One night a band of smugglers arrived from the north, and were met near the roadway leading to the Forest-muir, and everything went smoothly till near the place where the bridge now crosses the railway at Zoar. A scout met them with the information that the gaugers were on the watch, and a detour had to be made by way of Turfbeg farm. The whisky was got into Forfar, and housed in some stables, but as the excisemen were anxious for a capture there was every possibility that the hiding-place would be searched. The weavers, however, were equal to the occasion, and keg after keg was carried in sacks and placed in the traddle-holes of the weaving shops at the west end, As the last keg was removed the Government men put in an appearance, and made a search of the stable, and found nothing. They were not satisfied, however, and visits were made to various weaving-shops in the locality, but the search failed. The weavers kept moving their traddles and plying their shuttles, and the baffled gaugers had to leave without finding any of the whisky. When the vigilance of the officers was relaxed the whisky was unearthed and conveyed to different houses in the town and disposed of.

Here's the contents of another cutting from the same newspaper (Friday 16 June 1933):

There was a citizen well known to many in the Cowgate of Dundee, and as fine a man and honourable a merchant as ever trod the market causeway of Dundee, who was born and brought up at the head of Glenisla. Well did he remember of his father's cottar-house being ransacked by the Excisemen, and bedding even overturned upon the floor. 'The impudence of the scoondrels was terrible, for they rammed their cutlasses and long searchers into the very beds, 'and yet, clapping his hands upon his legs with great glee, he said, they were dune for a' that. Ye see, it needed some howkin' to get doon to whaur the hard stuff was hidden.' The whisky of that locality must have been of rare excellence, for he often heard the auld man say, 'When he had one tumbler of toddy he was finel when he had twa he was brawly; but when he had three he hadna half enuch.'

 

   I have told the following tale before, but it bears repeating. This version I have summarised from Duncan Fraser's The Land of the Ogilvys, Montrose, 1964. One day at Delnamer in Glenisla an officious customs officer found a hidden store of whisky in a sheep pen and summoned a colleague with a gang of troopers to search the area for more. Nothing was found, so the troopers let their horses loose in the stackyard to feed. When the crofters objected, the sergeant of the troop unsheathed as a warning to them. The locals did not forget the incident. They composed a letter to the Collector of Excise in Coupar Angus and to local landowners, saying there had been no need for the soldiers to steal food for their horses. If they had asked, it would have been granted to them. If the fiscal did not put a stop to such barbarous practices, they would demand blood for blood! Luckily there was no actual violence after the event. 

   One of the favoured routes of smuggled whisky coming south was across the Capel Mouth from Glenlivet and Corgarff, down through Clova and Wateresk by Clova's Path, Kintyrie and Auld Caddam, then to Kirriemuir and other places. It is said that when the gaugers came to Clova in search of stills a blanket would be hoisted on a pole set on the chimney in a certain house in Wateresk as a warning to people further north. 

   The Priest's Road, from Lochlee to Lethnot, was also called The Whisky Road. The spirit was be carried in long lines of ponies travelling into the low country. In the 19th century the Gudewife of Craigendowie recalled to the minister watching such a line of whisky laden ponies one day. When she cast her eye twoards the crossroads at Tammytesnie, a hillock behind Blairno, she saw a party of horsemen descending the hill at a rapid rate. The glitter of steel showed that it was a group of dragoons. The smugglers had just crossed the Brig of Dunsie and were starting to ascend. In another few minutes the two groups would meet. Then the soldiers were spotted. The smugglers abandones their ponies and ran to the West Water a little below the bridge, where there was a deep pool hemmed on one side by trees and on the other by steep rocks. Wading through the pool and up the rocks, they found themselves in an apparently safe place. The commanding officer of the soldiers watched them but did not allow his men to fire upon them. The smugglers continued to climb to safety and were gone before the soldiers found a safe place to cross the river, although the contraband was seized.

   One of the favourite places to hide whisky locally was in Lethnot manse. A cellar hidden behind a summerhouse there also made a useful place to conceal spirits. It was the same in other parishes.  In the 19th century the Rev Thomas Reid of Airlie found a secret hiding place in his manse where his predecessor, Rev Aiken had stashed several kegs. The Rev Reid's servant had actually discovered the spirits and secretly removed them to his own dwelling. 'John was so often needing refreshment in the course of his daily labour that he was for a good while in a continuously dazed state, which the minister could not account for.' John eventually shared some of the whisky with some of his friends. Some customs men heard about the whisky and visited the manse, but the minister truthfully said he knew nothing of it. John was sent for and confessed all, but as the bulk of the whisky had vanished down various throats, he escaped punishment.

   One old Lethnot man was questioned about the most whisky he had drunk in one day stated, 'Weel, min, to tell Gude's truth, the maist I mond o' takin' was five-and-twenty gless, beside the usual allooance.' (from Navar and Lethnot: the History of A Glen Parish in the North-East of Forfarshire, Rev. Frederick Cruickshank, Brechin, 1899, 150-153.)

Previous Related Posts

The Deil O' Glenisla

Tales of Smugglers