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Illicit Distilling in Glasgow

Neill Murphy of Scottish Rogue digs into Glasgow’s illicit distilling past…

There’s a certain romance that’s often retconned into old tales of illicit distilling. The noble Highlander, indulging in his birthright of whisky-making, forced to come up with increasingly cunning ways to elude the dastardly men of the excise. And why not? Scotland has always enjoyed a lovable rogue, and that’s often how we frame the illicit distillers of the past.

There are stories of Magnus Eunson in Orkney, chasing away the taxman by hiding his casks under a coffin lid and claiming plague. Then there’s George Smith perfecting his process in the hidden recesses of the Livet Glen before going legit and establishing one of the most iconic whisky brands of all time. Even the famous tale of the SS Politician, which ran aground off Eriskay and set off a game of cat and mouse between the islanders who rescued her cargo of whisky and the men of the excise who sought to recover it.

Rogues, rascals and raw spirit
Sign on the wall of Glengoyne Distillery

Illicit distilling and the smuggling of the product it made were widespread throughout Scotland. The question is, did such practices ever come to the city of Glasgow? I was curious and did some digging. The following story is what I found…

The Trades Hall, Glasgow

The Trades Hall has stood on Glassford Street since 1794. Home to Trades House, the building was designed by architect Robert Adam, and when he passed away, it was completed by his younger brothers James and William.

The Deacon Convener of the Trades House of Glasgow is the civic head of the city’s 14 Incorporated Crafts, one of which, ironically, is the craft of the Maltman. The Deacon Convener serves as the third most senior citizen in Glasgow after the Lord Provost and Lord Dean of Guild. Illegally distilling, quite literally, under his nose, was an act of such outrageous gallusness* that it should be celebrated in our humble opinion.

*Gallus – bold, cheeky, or daring in Scottish slang.

Not exactly a remote Highland bothy, is it?

So let’s hear it for the Trades Hall rogues, hiding in plain sight, and distilling spirits right under the noses of officialdom. On yersel lads.

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