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SPRINGBANK WHISKY DISTILLERS
SPRINGBANK STORY
THE MAKING OF SPRINGBANK WHISKY by Jim Murray

Journey back in time and visit Campbeltown a century ago and you would have been met by an extraordinary sight. Had you travelled to the ancient Royal Burgh by sea, as your vessel slipped into Campbeltown Loch, squeezing between Macringan's Point and the rocky island of Davaar, the town would have come into clear view: a portrait of sails billowing in the wind, and beyond them a screen of ropes and masts, some 20-odd smoking chimneys each acting as a beacon for an industry for which this small and lonely outpost on the Kintyre peninsula had become a byword.

Today those heady days have gone. The herring fishing fleet which then boasted at least 80 boats has vanished, and the chimneys belonging to distilleries which once made Campbeltown the whisky capital of the world have likewise disappeared.

That is with the exception of one, a slender golden thread with the past that has remained unbroken, untarnished even, for two centuries.

Springbank distillery is found right in the middle of this delightful Argyll town, proudly occupying the site on which it has operated since 1828 and owned, more remarkably still, by the very same family. In fact the connection goes back further. Campbeltown was once a stronghold of illicit whisky and when Springbank was built under legal licence it was, naturally enough, erected on the very same spot of land where the family had been producing their high-class contraband malt.

Indeed, the stories of Campbeltown whisky, Springbank Distillery and the Mitchell family are so closely interwoven they are impossible to tell apart.

Although the first written reference to whisky from this area can be traced back to 1591, it is hard to believe the making of "uisge beatha" was not known long before then.

It has been generally accepted that the art of distilling was brought to Scotland from Ireland. And one of the most ancient routes was from the Antrim coast to Kintyre, a journey, as the cormorant flies, of no more than a dozen miles. And it was also here, shortly after, that Christianity was first brought to Scotland by St Columba, who spent three years teaching before moving on to Iona.

For the most part of the 17th and 18th centuries Campbeltown was a smuggling centre, an occupation that was supported by the area's geography, topography....and the local gentry. One famous story tells of an old woman living in the town who was up before the Sheriff for smuggling.

She had been found guilty and before passing sentence the Sheriff told her: "I daresay, my poor woman, it is not often that you have been guilty of this fault." "Deed no, Sheriff," she replied. "I haena made a drap since yon wee keg I sent to yoursel."

Not that there wasn't whisky distilled legally as well. Two hundred years ago there were 22 distilleries operating legally in Campbeltown itself and a further ten in the parish.

Today there are two, Springbank and Glen Scotia. The latter has changed hands on several occasions. Springbank has always stayed within the family and it is against this background of stability that we can measure the distillery's success.

The Mitchells first came to Campbeltown in the mid 17th century as settlers from the lowlands, some of whom were already maltsters. The story of Springbank begins a century later with the great-grandfather of the distillery's current managing director. Archibald Mitchell, the son of a farmer married a cousin and learnt from his father-in-law (and uncle!) the art of malting. He also later acquired the art of distilling, though never the one of buying a licence. It was his sons Hugh, Archibald, John and William plus daughter Mary who took up distilling as a legal pursuit.

The first venture was Rieclachan Distillery in 1825 in which Archibald the younger was an original partner, and he was soon joined by Hugh.

Three years later in 1828 Springbank was built on the site of the older Archibald's illegal still.

The quality of Springbank whisky became well enough known for in 1838 a certain John Walker of Kilmarnock to buy, in 1838, 118 gallons at 8s 8d (43p) a gallon.

As distillery after distillery set up in Campbeltown, with the demand for malts from this area appearing insatiable, the business of the Mitchell family stretched further. John bought out the Toberanrigh Distillery built by cousin Alexander Wylie, while his sister Mary built Drumore Distillery in 1834 and William founded Glengyle in 1872.

Already in the late nineteenth century, Campbeltown whisky was of the highest quality and in enormous demand by blenders. Before the turn of this century it was highly peated and only short of being Islay in style. In the early part of this century the fashion in whisky moved away from these heavier types of whisky and Springbank altered accordingly, with malt being dried over coal rather than peat.

With the success of a nearby coal mine, fuel to run the distilleries was plentiful and cheap. And profits for the distillers were handsome. All the major distilling dynasties in the town, the Colvilles, Mitchells, Mactaggarts and Fergusons built large gentlemen's houses in keeping with the money pouring into the bank accounts and the newfound status of respectability they had acquired. By 1891, Campbeltown with a population of just 1,969 was reputed to be the richest town per capita in Britain.

But every bubble bursts. And in the 1920s, with one or two notable exceptions, distillers in the town had begun cutting corners in the making of their whisky to meet the demand.

Soon blenders began to turn their backs on Campbeltown and looked for consistently better malt elsewhere. Only Springbank, Glen Scotia and Rieclachan maintained their quality and their order books open as one by one the other distilleries fell by the wayside.

In 1934 it was decided to close Rieclachan, leaving only Springbank and Glen Scotia, as is the case today.

Sixty years on, Springbank stands out proudly and unscathed in the centre of the town that once was the whisky capital of Scotland. It is the most elegant and poignant working example of the old adage: class always tells in the end.