The distillery was built a short distance from the Strathspey Railway but a link was not added until much later. Barnard noted that arrangements for a “tramway” to connect the distillery to a railway siding were being made at that time but this wasn’t reported in local papers until 1894 and it was not completed until the early 1900s when the distillery was eventually connected to the main line not far from the Bridge of Carron. All goods up until then would have been brought in by horse and cart, either down the steep road beside the Burn of Derrybeg or from Carron Station which opened in 1863 about one mile away across the Spey, a handsome cast iron bridge being built across the river to carry the line.
|Bridge of Carron across River Spey|
|Train shed at Dailuaine distillery|
Barnard didn’t seem to mind the carriage ride though and his delight at his surroundings is clear from his writing, the beautiful reaches of the Spey and tree lined mountain slopes particularly inspiring him. Just before turning off the main road the view below him is summed up “words can convey but a feeble idea of the enchanting loveliness of Strathspey as it is now opened before us enclosed in its frame of hanging woods”. He wanted to linger for hours here but the horse turned and descended the road down the narrow valley carved by the Burn of Derrybeg which was “brawling and gurgling all the way down the hill” towards the Spey.
|Strathspey near Dailuaine|
“Never was there such a soft, bright landscape of luxuriant green, of clustering foliage, and verdant banks of wild flowers, ferns and grasses. The whole scene is dainty enough for a fairy’s palace…”
Some of the scenic descriptions provided by our historic travel guide can still be witnessed today and a wander through the verdant acclivities on this stretch of the Spey offers much to hold the gaze and inspire the poet within; Benrinnes, when viewed from these sylvan braes, emerges from its misty shroud as the Caledonian Parnassus.
|Ben Rinnes from north side of the Spey above Carron|
|Queen's Green site at Dailuaine, overgrown after warehouses demolished|
Back to Barnard’s report and his driver is pointing out an old-fashioned mansion on the hill above the distillery which must be Dailuaine House, the residence of the distillery proprietor Thomas Mackenzie, son of William Mackenzie who founded the distillery around 1851. James Fleming had leased the distillery after William Mackenzie died in 1865 and he remained here until he opened Aberlour distillery in 1879. In the same year he maintained his interest at Dailuaine by going into partnership with Thomas as Mackenzie & Co.
Barnard records that a Mrs Grant of Carron had dwelt at the house for a while during which time she penned ‘
He also mentions that this area was the stronghold of James an Tuim (James of the hills), a “freebooter” that he also mentioned in his Aberlour report. This leads him into a short local legend about a haunted smugglers bothy that appears on those dark and wild nights that are central to every good ghost story, wherein “the Still-fires are seen weirdly sparkling like eyes of diamonds, and the ghosts of the departed smugglers busy at their ancient avocations”. The story goes that this vision had appeared to a shepherd one night, although perhaps inspired by the taking of a stiff glass of the Dailuaine! The haunted location is noted as “a rocky cavern in a ravine through which rushes one of the Dail-Uaine Burns” and true enough ‘James am Tuim’s Cave’ is marked beside the Burn of Carron close to the distillery on an 1869 map if you wish to venture out past midnight in a storm to test the theory; just remember to take a wee flask of something spiritual with you to aid your, um, vision.
|Burn of Carron near James an Tuim's cave|
Barnard is once more moved to the sublime by the scene as he entered the distillery courtyard:
“Outside all is quiet and the stillness of death reigns; inside it is all life, bustle, and activity…In this retired spot, far removed from noisy cities and prying eyes, surrounded by all that is beautiful and lovely in nature, is carried on the mystery of John Barleycorn, - his death, burial and resurrection. No wonder with these surroundings that the pure spirit emerging from such an
should be appreciated by mortals all the
world over.” Eden
Barnard’s party received a “hearty welcome from the proprietor in the good old Highland style”, just as said Mr Mackenzie was departing for
The distillery was built beside the Burn of Carron at the very base of the massive northern projections of Ben Rinnes. A mill lead from the burn fed into a dam in the grounds and originally powered the water wheel and provided cooling water; the current dam for cooling water was built a little way further upstream to make room for the dark grains plant built behind the distillery in 1960 to process draff and pot ale from a number of distilleries in the area.
The Burn of Balliemullich is the source of the process water and it feeds into the Burn of Carron in the grounds, both beginning their journey to the Spey on the slopes of Ben Rinnes. The Burn of Derrybeg mentioned before now joins the Burn of Carron underneath the concrete quadrangle in front of the distillery before the enlarged burn flows under the narrow road bridge and on into the Spey a short distance away.
|Burn of Carron as it leaves the distillery grounds|
The distillery had been rebuilt and modernised in the few years prior to his visit and this is apparent when comparing the etchings in Barnard with the layout on the 1869 map. There are actually two etchings in the book, one seemingly recorded from the east and one from the north, but they also seem to be from different times as they show slightly different arrangements of the buildings, or perhaps just drafted by different artists whose individual eyes were drawn to different features of the whole.
There were two granaries/maltings, one newly built and the other already known as the “Old Malting”. The barley was lifted to the granaries by a continuous screw, the first mention of this apparatus I can recall in the book. Barnard also at this point records a patent screening machine in use and he is here surprised to learn of the foreign objects such as small stones and bits of metal that can appear “even in home-grown barley” which “without the use of this machine…would spoil the flavour of Whisky”. Or cause an explosion in the mill first!
It is fitting that Barnard describes the kiln building in more detail here than in any other report to date, as this kiln was soon to become part of whisky legend. There were two furnaces, both heated with peat only, and the reek rose up through perforated iron plates in the drying floor 25 feet above. The roof began a further 8 feet above the drying floor and then rose “with the steepest pitch in Scotland, to a height of 30 feet” giving the kiln a “tower-like appearance”. He continues “It is considered that height is of great advantage where peats are used solely, as it gives the malt a delicate aroma, without having to use coke to prevent the flavour being too pronounced”.
Fitting that it should be described in such detail as this was the first kiln to which Charles Cree Doig attached his now iconic pagoda roof top for more efficiently drawing out peat smoke through the barley. Barnard was not to know that though - Doig designed his pagoda in 1889 and installed it here three years after Barnard’s visit.
An interesting discussion on the origins of the design can be found at Celtic Malts and they include a copy of some of Doig’s original sketches. The design of the roof top in the etchings in Barnard is similar to the first sketch in Doig’s evolution of design, marked with a cross through it as the characteristics we now recognise so well are teased out in different stages. I was recently asked if the design was a deliberate attempt to mirror an oriental style but it seems from these drawings, and its original purpose, that it was more likely to just be functional, the term pagoda applied retrospectively.
Sadly, the original Doig pagoda was lost forever in a large fire that destroyed part of the distillery in 1917. The distillery was rebuilt after the fire and re-opened in 1920, by this time with two kilns in place. The floor maltings were replaced with Saladin boxes in 1960 and they were run until 1983 when the supply switched to the industrial malting at Burghead (Udo, 2005). The two kilns were also demolished after the maltings closed.
Barnard’s tour continued with a view of the peat sheds where there were two thousand yards of peat that had been dried for two years before use; the malt used today is unpeated. Back inside at the malt store he introduces another piece of machinery along with a new term “cummins”, also known as malt culms, which are the green shoots, or acrospires, that emerge from the barley as it is turned on the malting floor and which then become charred in the kiln. The machinery here was designed to remove them and any other extraneous matter before the malt passed through the mill and I think this must be the very same screening machine that he mentioned earlier. Equivalent modern machinery removes all extraneous material from the malt after delivery from industrial maltings.
The mash tun was a fairly regular 17 feet wide by 6 deep but the Steels mashing machine he notes is made from solid brass, unlike any other he had seen. There were eight washbacks with a capacity of 22,720 litres each and all with water powered switchers. The current mash tun is a full lauter from 1993 and there are 8 larch washbacks of 55,000 litres each (Udo, 2005).
There were three fairly small stills in operation, wash still at 6,800 litres and two spirit stills at 3,180, the proprietor preferring small stills “being convinced from long experience that they make better whisky”. Each still had its own timber worm tub and the water running out from them drove various pumps and the rummagers. In 1895 the Banffshire Advertiser recorded that they were installing “the largest wash still in north of
Barnard next mentions a “ball, or running room at one corner of the Still House”. I think these terms have fallen out of use since as I have been met with blank looks when enquiring about them at various distilleries. They do seem to refer to the location of the pipe interchanges and the various receivers though, and Barnard mentions that here is the brass spirit safe which was a remarkable 10 feet long and was designed by the resident partner.
Barnard summarises the various crafts and industries employed around the site and he notes the extensive fire precautions that include the ability to douse the highest building, such is the water pressure here far below the origins of those streams on the overlooking mountain.
|Dailuaine-Talisker cask at Talisker Distillery|
Sitting on a rise above the distillery on its east side is Dailuaine Terrace, a row of distillery worker cottages built in the 1890s and originally called Deldonald Cottages after an existing homestead nearby. Evidence of the ‘Danish Dyke’ defences still exists further up the slope in the woodland beside the cottages, supposedly the camp for the Danish army before they marched over the hills to Mortlach to get their asses whupped at the battle I mentioned earlier. Today’s visitors from
|Dailuaine Terrace built as distillery cottages|
Barnard rounded of his visit to Dailuaine by “quaffing a drop of the nectar, for which the distillery is famous” and then returned to Craigellachie to catch his train back to Keith. Most of the production today goes into blending and the first official bottle was a 16yo in the Flora & Fauna range in 1991. A couple more special releases have appeared since then, but like the Benrinnes whisky produced further up the hill, this is a malt that doesn’t appear on the shelf too often.
Most of the scenery described by Barnard may still be found, the timeless scouring of the land by the elements and the river within it not yet reducing it all to rubble to be carried to Spey Mouth and deposited as another tidal race for the torrent to play with. Lost forever though is Doig’s original pagoda, its elegant lines once functional, now iconic, remembered and celebrated in sweeping rooftops at other places. The design now lives on as just a symbol of historic practice in many distilleries, still functional currently at only five distilleries in
Barnard finishes his report with a verse from a poem that he has used before in his