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🥃 A Walk On The Wyld Side: Glenforth Distillery

Oct 27
4 min read

Glenforth or Glen Forth?


They may not seem like two very distinct entities but believe me, it can make all the difference when searching the newspaper archives online. In fact, it could be the difference between finding something really interesting and pretty much hee-haw. Such is the case here...


In last week’s piece, I covered Kirkliston distillery which, at one time, was owned by John Stewart & Co who had also acquired another distillery in (South) Queensferry by the name of Glenforth.


Or Glen Forth.


Sepia view of a wet stone harbour town with old buildings and a clock tower under a hazy sky.
Glenforth Distillery (Image Credit: Queensferry History Group)

It’s a distillery that doesn’t appear in Brian Townsend’s fabulous book, Scotch Missed; other publications give it just a cursory mention. But delving into the archives, despite its relatively short existence, it appears as though the life of the distillery proved to be quite the roller coaster ride for its owners.


Glenforth Distillery was established in 1828 by William Wyld. He was the brother of James Wyld, an incredibly well-known Leith wine and spirit merchant at the time.


Sepia portrait of an elderly man in a dark suit, seated with a serious expression against a dim background.
James Wyld. Image Credit: National Galleries of Scotland

And anybody who has ever picked up a bottle of Crabbie whisky will have inadvertently met James Wyld – there’ll more on this, as well as the man himself, in tomorrow’s follow-up email for paying subscribers.


William had previously taken a short lease on the aforementioned Kirkliston distillery in the early 1820s. The previous owners have gone bankrupt and William operated it for between three to four years. He wanted to take on a longer lease but the trustees on the bankrupt estate couldn’t agree on terms. So, William spat his dummy out and decided he’d just build his own distillery instead. With that in mind, he bought some houses on Gote Lane, near the harbour in Queensferry, as well as a piece of shore ground. And here, in 1828, he built a maltings, granaries and bonds as well as a distillery.


Handwritten ledger page for Glenforth Distillery on blue lined paper, with cursive notes and columns.
Ordnance Survey Name Book 1856. (You can click to enlarge images)

According to his nephew’s memoirs, this distillery was built on a new patent principle.


This ties in with this advert in the Fife Herald from a good few years later in 1843 (despite it saying 1842, it appeared it 1843!)


Old newspaper ad for Highland Whisky from Glenforth Patent Distillery Company, dated 21 March 1842.

So, did Glenforth distillery produce grain spirit?


Well, initially, yes.


But the whole venture was, as the kids would say, an epic fail.


The distillery build had been too much for William; the stress had made him ill and then, in 1842, he popped his clogs before the distillery was completed. James, his brother, had advanced him the money to build it and, worried he wouldn’t get a return on his investment, James asked his son, Robert, to run the distillery. Despite having no prior experience of distilling whatsoever, Robert gave it his best shot.


The obstacles were plentiful. Firstly, the water supplying the distillery was of such poor quality – it contained animal and vegetable matter - that it gave the spirit a very unpleasant flavour profile.


Secondly, income from the sale of draff was minimal given that Kirkliston distillery nearby – now owned by Buchan & Co – had already cornered that market.


Next, the worts were fermented in brick tanks lined with Roman cement, with the latter starting to decompose due to the acidity.


In his memoir, Robert points out that

The water and the fermented worts were to be boiled by being forced through two bundles of small copper tubes which traversed high-pressure separate steam boilers, filled with water kept above the boiling point. The water thus heated for mashing was then collected in wooden-built vats, lined with thin copper sheeting; and lastly, the vapour, as it escaped from these tubes, was to be condensed and cooled in similar small tubes immersed in a tank of cold water.

Robert then continues to point out that (a) the copper sheeting burst due to it expanding and contracting and (b) the hot wash, as it contained vegetable matter, not only solidified and clogged up the tubes but also gave the spirit a singed flavour.


Delightful, I’m sure.


This comedy of errors proved too much. Robert soon decided to ditch the patent still and replace it with apparatus on the common principle. After removing the equipment, he sold it for scrap metal and replaced it with some pot stills.


As a distillery producing malt whisky, Glenforth produced between 1700 to 2000 gallons (about 7700 - 9000 litres) per week and employed up to twenty men.


But given the dodgy flavour profile and, therefore, the reputation of the whisky, Robert found it just too difficult to sell and by 1862 he threw in the towel – he sold the premises and closed down the business.


Old newspaper ad for an important sale of spirits in bond at the British Hotel, Dundee, listing whisky, brandy and sherry.
Arbroath Guide - 28 May 1870

Enter John Stewart & Co. They operated the distillery until about 1867. The advert above from 1870 shows whisky bonded in 1867. So, unless there’s an error here, they must have been distilling up to at least this point and this may well have been one of the last batches made there.


By 1880, Glenforth was in the hands of Distillers Company Limited, and was being used as a maltings and duty free spirit warehouses.


Vintage black-and-white company prospectus page titled THE DISTILLERS COMPANY, LIMITED, with dense text and directors, bankers, and office listings.
The Scotsman - 16 June 1880

After selling the business, Robert Stodart Wyld never returned to distilling. He died in 1893 aged eighty-five. Which is a pretty good innings, even by today’s standards.


Not much remains of Glenforth distillery as most of the buildings were destroyed by fire (in the late 1930s, I read, although I haven’t yet been able to find anything to back this up). One wall, however, still remains:


Rocky beach in front of old white buildings and a clock tower, with a quiet, overcast waterfront scene.
Image Credit: Trove Scot

So, next time you’re in Orocco Pier (to the left), perhaps you might want to raise a dram to the Wyld family – where, undoubtedly, there won’t be any animal or vegetable matter floating about in your glass.


Slàinte! Justine

 
 

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