Joe Kennedy & The Decline of Irish Whiskey

While Joe Biden may be the second Irish Catholic to become American President. The father of the first played an unlikely and little-known role in the decline of our national drink.

Fionnán O’Connor’s exceptional book ‘A Glass Apart’ contains a delicious quote from a Catalonian named Arnaldus de Villa Nova (c. 1240–1311). It describes probably the earliest written descriptions of brandy distillation, which reads: “It can lead to vigour and creative ecstasy, this aqua vitae.” The reason this quote came into my head today was in connection with another section of O’Connor’s historical narrative. One in keeping with the theme of last Monday. That of Joseph Robinette Biden Jr. and the recent presidential election.

Joe Biden will be the second Irish Catholic to occupy the White House. The first, of course, was John Fitzgerald Kennedy. The Kennedy family has seen some considerable degradation through the generations. With Joe Kennedy III — a sorry excuse for a Kennedy if there ever was one — becoming, earlier this year, the first bearer of the famous patronymic to lose an election in Massachusetts. However, unlike Joe III, Joseph Patrick Kennedy Sr. — Joe III’s great grandfather, and father to JFK — was a giant of a politician and infamous businessman. While it was his son’s portrait that graced the wall of many an Irish home, alongside that of his holiness of course, Joe Kennedy Sr. played a role in demise of Irish whiskey, one that many of you will be unfamiliar with.

Before we go on; a word in Biden’s defence here. One of the controversies that still surround the legacy of Joe Sr. — one that stems from his time as ambassador to the United Kingdom, post 1938 — was that he favoured appeasement of the Nazis. Even attempting to meet with Hitler after the outbreak of war, and the bombing of English cities had commenced; and without the approval of the U. S. Department of State. On the other hand, as evidenced by the events of last week, Joseph Biden prefers to beat them at the ballot box. Nevertheless, it could be said that it was Joe Kennedy Sr.’s relationship with another American president (the one which took America to war with Nazi Germany) that lead to his impact on Irish whiskey. More on that in a moment.

1938 photo, of Joseph P. Kennedy (centre) with son and future president John F. Kennedy (right) and eldest son Joseph P. Kennedy Jr., (left)

How Joseph Kennedy Sr. Was Irish Whiskey’s Nearly Man

Joseph Kennedy’s father, Patrick Joseph Kennedy, was originally a saloon-owner in Boston who expanded to own a whiskey importation business. So alcohol had been part of the family business long before Joseph Sr. came of age. It’s been claimed (repeatedly), disputed — and apparently now debunked — that Joe Kennedy Sr. was involved in bootlegging operations during Prohibition. So, for now, we’ll say that part of the myth is just that. A myth. But what isn’t up for debate was that he did make a fortune when prohibition came to an end.

The decline of Irish Whiskey is a complex story. From the mid to late nineteenth century it’s one of the biggest selling spirits in the world. Internationally it outsold its Scottish counterpart by more than three to one. In fact at one point it was a more popular drink in Scotland than Scotch was. But, by the 1920s it’s on its knees. Its inability to adapt to a changing market, taxation, the impact of the First World War and Irish Independence are all important parts of the story. But another key part is the one played by American prohibition.

Prohibition became law in America with the passage of the Volstead Act of 1919. The act is the culmination of a long fought campaign to heal what was seen as an ‘ill society beset by alcohol-related problems such as alcoholism, family violence and saloon-based political corruption.’ Shit craic.

It’s always difficult to prove counterfactuals, but it is undoubtedly true that had the American market been open for business in the 1920s; the impact of at least some of the aforementioned could have been offset. Instead we see a slew of household names close shop throughout the 20s. From George Roe’s Thomas Street and Marrowbone Lane distilleries (1923) to Cork Distiller’s North Mall distillery (1920) and Bandon Distillery (1925), to name but a few.

Fast-forward a decade and a bit, and by 1933 prohibition was (thankfully) not going to be around much longer. President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s government would oversee ratification of the 21st amendment; resigning it to history. Yet, strangely, before to its repeal, two men seemed to have a useful presentiment that such a change may be upon the horizon. Now, I for one can’t explain it. But those two men were Joseph Roosevelt (the president’s son) and Joseph Kennedy (the man he would later make ambassador to the U.K.).

Together they founded the company ‘Somerset Importers’, ironically named after a private social club in Boston, which barred Catholics from joining. A proud Irish Catholic, of course, Kennedy approached the great Dublin distilleries of Bow Street (Jameson’s) and John’s Lane (Powers); looking to set up an import deal that would be ready to go once prohibition was lifted. Both companies were in desperate need of money. And the opportunities that may have opened up — not just for these two companies, but also for Irish whiskey in general — had it been the first to hit the newly stocked shelves of the considerable American market, would have been potentially limitless.

But, as O’Connor recounts in A Glass Apart, ‘Both were petrified of breaking U.S. law and both declined. With much more welcome from the good people at Distillers Company (producers Scotch blends Dewar’s and Haig), Kennedy and Franklin built up massive stocks of soon-to-be legal DCL liquor, and by New Year’s Eve, America’s love affair with scotch began.’

George Roe & Co. once had an annual output of two million gallons of Pot Still Whiskey. But had already closed its doors by the time Joe Kennedy came looking to strike a deal.

Perhaps it is easy to overstate the impact this one moment had on Irish whiskey? Although perhaps not. What is impossible to overstate was the dramatic fall from grace that was the story of Irish Whiskey. JFK’s presidency was tragically cut short in November 1963. But less than a decade later the Pot Stills at Bow St. fell silent; soon followed by those at John’s Lane. No doubt the population of Ireland mourned the former more than the latter.

Blended Scotch whisky — the likes of which great whiskey producers like Jameson and Roe once derided as not whiskey, but rather part of the “fictitious whiskey trade” — now weighed down the bellies of ships in the harbours of America. Even today with the boom in Irish whiskey and the return of distilling to Dublin — following a nearly forty year absence — we are a long, long way off making up the ground lost in the latter half of the 20th century.

I highly recommend picking up a copy of A Glass Apart by Fionnán O'Connor. It’s about €20 at most good online retailers. Please avoid using Amazon, keep it Irish if you can.