Gladys Memories of Glen Mhor Distillery

 

A recent conversation with Gladys, daughter of former Glen Mhor foreman Sandy Robertson, revealed that she has a treasure trove of memories of her father and her childhood growing up in one of the Glen Albyn cottages. 

Having brought you the wonderful moment of her father's retirement in 1975, further questions led to more memories and recollections of life in and around the distillery. I've debated whether to just put these on our quotes page or try to formulate further articles around these new nuggets of information. 

I've decided to put them together in this 'memories of' section and talk a little about each one. What I've learnt over the years is that every detail, no matter how small, helps us to build this wonderful resource on a lost distillery in Muirtown, Inverness.

My thanks to Gladys for her time and sharing these memories which will be eagerly consumed by many enthusiasts like myself.

'At the front of the office there was a green, no one was allowed to stand on it. That green was like gold to Birnie, he would get one of staff to place the metal numbers where there holes and this was his mini golf course.

In all the years, I never saw anyone playing. Never did I see a long blade of grass it was always cut to perfection.'

It seems long overdue for a distillery to have a golf course, arguably the sort of thing that Macallan or Glenmorangie would consider in today's environment. However, this startling revelation underlines just how much authority William Birnie had at Glen Mhor. Surprisingly, the original plans for the distillery office in 1924 did not include a golf course. William's love of golf and curling is well documented, as is that of his father, John Birnie, who was a highly regarded local amateur golfer and co-founder of the distillery. 

The most likely location for the mini-golf course is in front of the distillery office, to the right of the photo above. Even from this snippet you can see how well maintained the garden and hedges appear to be. Which suggests, as Gladys recalls, that the lawn behind it is immaculate. 

To gain a comprehensive understanding of the area, I also considered the worker's cottages situated to the left of the aforementioned image. A review of multiple overhead photographs from various times revealed no discernible evidence of a golf course. The open ground to the left of the building in question, which leads onto the football ground and a warehouse wall, appears to have been subjected to significant footfall, rendering it unsuitable for use as a playing surface. The area to the left of the gate in the aforementioned photograph (and to the right of the worker's cottage) does, in fact, contain sand and appears to have a bunker-like shape on an overhead image provided by the Inverness Caley Forum. 

It is therefore plausible to suggest that this was more an area for distillery resources. Further investigation of the images that I have collated over the years also gives rise to an area behind the office, as seen in this image, where I have zoomed in on the Canmore original:

You'll immediately see a fenced-in green, flat and ideal for putting practice, with the possibility of holes in the surface. It looks well maintained and free of distillery debris. It is also easily accessible from the distillery office, which had a door at the back. Could this be the same golf course that Gladys remembers, or an additional course?

'There was a woman who fell into the canal and Walter Cumming, one of the distillery workers, jumped into the canal and rescued her, he was a hero. Walter was in his 30s when he passed away.'

Despite further research, I've been unable to find anything regarding this act of heroism by a distillery worker. It is unfortunate that Walter died at a relatively young age, but it is clear that he made a significant impact on the life of an unknown individual.

'My dad was watching the barley coming down this long shoot, which had a small glass shield which you looked through. A big bolt came flying out which broke the glass and hit my father above his eye. He was knocked out, all he remembered was waking up in hospital and was kept in for four days.

It was a dark room, no windows and strong stiff metal doors at either end of the room. It was a sweaty and damp room and I always felt cold. It had to be like that for the barley to open before the kiln was used.'

I can recall visiting Tormore and observing the arrival of barley in a similar fashion, and being advised to maintain a safe distance for fear of stones or unexpected additions to the barley, many other readers may have had a similar experience. 

'Another room had a big vat with the yeast fermenting, to me it was a horrible smell.' 

We all know that smell, one that makes a lasting impression even at a young age it seems.

'One of the men had recently lost his wife, my dad noticed he was not eating, so arranged that he came to our house for his dinner and supper. This went on until he retired after 18 months.

My father had it like the men were like a hard working family, look after them and they will give you their best at work.

Our next door neighbour could set 2 alarm clocks and still they would sleep in, so they asked my dad if he would rap on their window at 5.30am till someone would answer.'

As my research into Glen Mhor has progressed, it has become increasingly evident that the people associated with the distillery, and the wider community in which it is situated, represent a significant aspect of the history. These recollections serve to illustrate the importance of this collective brought together by whisky, and a sense of mutual support within the team. It is warming to learn of such experiences and the presence of the families during challenging times.

'The distillery had a lot of cats, my dad would bang on his desk and all the cats would come running, as they knew my father would feed them. Should there be too many cats, he would try to find them homes.

His sister lived on a croft as one cat went to stay with her. He got a shock 3.5 weeks later as that cat was back at the distillery, after walking 21 miles.'

This memory is likely to resonate with Phil at the Dornoch Distillery, given his affinity for cats on whisky labels. I'm reminded of the highly proficient feline at the Glenturret distillery, which demonstrated remarkable efficacy in its duties. It would appear that Glen Mhor had a notable assortment of cats that exhibited characteristics reminiscent of those who surrounded Ernest Hemingway. Descendants of whom remain in situ around his Key West house - these Muirtown cats also displayed a reluctance to leave the distillery, their home.

'The men got 1 dram every day at work, and once a year they went to a certain doctor for check ups.'

The traditional daily method of rewarding the men, which have long since been superseded, evokes a nostalgic sentiment, particularly when one reflects upon the experience of queuing daily for the dram. Glen Mhor, in its cask-strength form, should the capacity to remove any residual fatigue and invigorate the senses...

My thanks once again to Gladys for sharing her memories about her time at Glen Mhor and all the characters in and around the distillery.