Heritage
At The Bothy Distillery, we honour our heritage while embracing innovation. Every last drop of our whisky will carry the spirit of Glen Prosen, weaving together the land’s storied past with modern craftsmanship.
The rugged Angus glens have long been a place of both refuge and rebellion. In the 18th and 19th centuries, these hills were alive with the clandestine trade of illicit whisky. Smugglers, guided by an intimate knowledge of the land, skillfully navigated hidden trails to outwit determined excise officers. Narrow escapes and daring ingenuity became the fabric of local legend, their efforts still drifting across the mist-laden glens and rivers.
Secluded bothies once sheltered illicit distillers, their fires glowing deep and smoke wafting within the glens. The routes they forged—now known as the Cateran Trail—once bore the weight of smuggled usquabae, barrels from the Highlands, concealed beneath sacks of grain and peat. These chases, captures, hidden casks, and secret distillations were not merely whispered tales but are well documented in 18th, 19th, and even 20th-century newspapers. Reports of rogues and heroes—smugglers, local sympathisers, and the King’s own excisemen bring this era vividly to life, painting a picture of a time when whisky was more than a drink; it was the lifeblood of the Highland way of life, a symbol of defiance and resilience.
At Bothy Distillery, we honour this untamed past while shaping the future. With deep respect for tradition and a spirit of innovation, our whisky bridges centuries—capturing the essence of the glen in every cask.
Dundee Courier
APRIL 1887
"At the beginning of the present century smuggling was extensively carried on in Glenprosen, Water Esk, Glenisla, Glen Moy, and other districts..."
Montrose Standard
DECEMBER 1866
"An excisemen going up the way of Glenprosen met a smuggler coming south with two horses and four ankers of whisky. They were quite close to one another in the bottom of the ravine of Currogle before either was aware of the other's presence.
The smuggler turned to the right up the ravine, as if intending to take to the hills. The ganger followed of course ; but when they had gone some distance up the dell, which is very crooked and winding, and were out of view of any one passing on the road below, the smuggler stopped, slackened the reins of his horses' bridles, and allowed them to graze at leisure. The officer stopped too, at some little distance, doubtful by any means, but courage alone would not do here...
The smuggler, seeing this, threw himself carelessly on the ground beside his horses, and seemed determined to try the patience of his would be captor. What would the officer do? If be went to look for assistance the man would escape, and to attempt his forcible seizure single handed seemed madness..."