Joe Doherty, a former IRA member, finds himself reminded of the illicit poitín he once crafted while incarcerated as he stands before the towering whiskey stills in Belfast’s newest distillery. The spot his gaze lands on, is the same he had aimed at during his inaugural prison escape half a century ago.
He recounts, “We spent six grueling weeks carving a route through those bars. Accompanied by a fellow inmate from Country Clare, we painted our faces to blend with the darkness, and daringly made our escape through the window in the dead hours of the night. Alas, our endeavor fell short as we were apprehended while scaling the wall.”
Currently, Doherty finds himself on the floor above ground level in the retired A-Wing of the notorious Crumlin Road Gaol in Belfast’s northern regions, where he was incarcerated thrice amidst the consternation of the Troubles.
The year 1981 saw his visage plastered across Wanted posters in airports and train terminals following his escape from “The Crum” along with seven of his IRA comrades. They made their daring breakout disguised as legal advisors and prison wardens. A daring, daylight gunfight outside of the gaol eventually led to him seeking refuge in America in the following year, where he even had a street corner named after him in New York City. In 1983, he was apprehended while serving beers to FBI agents in Clancy’s Bar, Manhattan.
Now a community worker nearing his seventies, Doherty watches as “master distiller” Graeme Millar unseals a brass rectangular compartment before rubbing the transparent fluid onto his palms. Millar describes the scent as strong and fruity, which incites hearty laughter from Doherty as it triggers his memories of the “Long Kesh poitín”.
He nostalgically remembers crafting the brew in another prison situated at the city limits of Lisburn. To enhance flavor, he added a raspberry or gobstopper to the mix. He recalls how his mother would visit with a few pairs of nylon stockings, which were then used to filter the brew. Thanks to his plumbing skills, he managed all the necessary pipework. He wistfully says how he watched the drops fall through the night, longing for it to be purer than the outcome.
Constructed between 1846 and 1850, Crumlin Road Gaol, often likened to “Alcatraz in Europe”, served as a detention centre for over 25,000 convicts, including distinguished figures like Gerry Adams, Éamon de Valera, suffragettes, and Rev Ian Paisley, until it halted operations in 1996. Seventeen males met their end via execution, the last in 1961, and 15 mortal remains lie in unholy burials within the boundaries of the prison complex.
In 2007, the newly initiated C-Wing tourist attraction lured in many foreign travellers eager to trace the city’s trail of terror. The prison was a residence to a former inmate who got life imprisonment imposed against him in absentia, two days subsequent to his 1981 flight, for orchestrating the killing of Capt Herbert Westmacott, the highest-ranking SAS officer fallen during the Northern Irish conflict. The convict has since carried out joint discussions for young audiences within the prison, along with loyalists, and has led tours previously.
Doherty, the convict, was freed from Maze/Long Kesh prison after finishing the rest of his term post his extradition from America in 1992. The Good Friday Agreement provisions led to his release in 1998. Every passage he makes past a series of dwellings, where Westmacott lost his life in a 1980 firefight between the IRA and the SAS on Antrim Road, witnesses Doherty blessing himself. On questioning his actions, Doherty responds by asserting that he does it in honour of Westmacott’s soul, considering him as well a casualty of the conflict.
During the peak of the Troubles, the daunting edifice of grey basalt accommodated or held under arrest around 2,000 republicans and loyalists, often crowding four to a cell. A former loyalist convict, Colin Halliday, who was held for 10 months in the old C-Wing in 1991, said the environment was fiercely competitive. Member of the Ulster Defence Association, Halliday has also given post-conflict talks in the prison with Doherty.
Halliday recollects a time when he was confined 23 hours every alternate day, with republicans allowed out on the following day. Each action, from eating and sleeping, to even bathroom breaks, was on a stringent schedule in the cell. Showering was a luxury, occurring barely once a week. During his stint there, he witnessed two loyalist inmates being killed in the mess hall due to a bomb explosion one Sunday afternoon. The stark hatred was apparent 24/7, emphasizing the severity of the place.
However, this infamous location has since been reinvented to serve a slightly different purpose. As of the end of March, a whiskey distillery, McConnell’s Irish Whiskey distillery, marked its official inauguration on the premises. This followed seven years of meticulous planning and a generous investment of £30 million (€35 million). Roughly 1,800 visitors have already made their way to the newly transformed landmark.
Indeed, the transformation that took place over a span of 20 months is nothing short of spectacular. It went from being a dilapidated section of the prison swarmed with pigeons, to now boasting Belfast’s largest whiskey production facility since the 1930s. Doherty, looking upon his old cell space nestled amidst a modern 16-seater cocktail bar and a conference room, expresses disbelief at the change.
The distillery venture was initially suggested by Peter Lavery, a bus driver and lottery winner from Belfast, over a decade ago. Lavery eventually contributed to the launch of Titanic Distillers situated in Belfast’s Titanic Quarter in the previous year.
It was later, in 2019, that the initiative picked up momentum due to a proposal submitted by the Belfast Distillery Company. This American investor group is known for their $20 million investment and the revival of the McConnell’s Whiskey brand, that has roots originating in 1776 Belfast.
When the establishment was bought, it retained some of its initial numerical identifiers on old cell doors. Millar mentions that recreating these was a Herculean effort. As part of their refurbishment, they added a 30-tonne malt silo. This standard distillery gear makes this renovated ex-jail space unique.
The distilling facilities will have the capacity to produce 610,000 litres of new spirit, which will not be ready for bottling until a minimum of five years has passed, as stated by the CEO of McConnell’s, John Kelly. Kelly, a former pupil of St Malachy’s school, which is located behind the former prison, details plans to produce enough for four million bottles annually and to employ approximately 50 people.
As a native of north Belfast, Kelly voiced his emotional reaction to overseeing this project, which incorporates the active distillery and visitor centre. Pipelining the venture gave him a shock of sentiment, as he was faced with his past and the progression of shifting from the school environment into the prison itself. The day when the bottles, photos and trays were integrated into the new edifice marked a significant step for Kelly.
Prominent figures such as US Special Economic Envoy Joe Kennedy, First Minister Michelle O’Neill and three other ministers from Stormont were present at last month’s official launch. Government grants have contributed around £2 million to the project. Just as we were departing from the distillery, a bus carrying eager tourists from Tennessee arrived for their scheduled whiskey tour.
Despite the potential economic benefits the distillery brings, some believe that we should not forget about the haunting past of Crumlin Road Gaol. Colin Halliday is of the opinion that there might be a more suitable location for a distillery and insists we should not forget the atrocities that occured within its walls. Alternatively, Doherty perceives the distillery as a positive development. He suggests that the remaining unused wings could serve another purpose. He celebrates the fact that the distillery is attracting people to the city, stating that it represents progress and conjures reflection on a time when these premises were used for incarceration.