21-05-2025
Rory MacDonald: Highland publican and whisky pioneer who 'wouldn't sell a dram to a Campbell', dies age 91
Donald Roderick MacDonald, known affectionately and reverently as Rory, died peacefully on May 20, 2025, aged 91.
A Highland publican of rare flair, creator of Glencoe whisky, and fiercely proud descendant of the Chiefs of Keppoch, Rory lived a life deeply rooted in tradition yet riotously alive with character, contradiction and conviction.
Born in Jesmond in September 1933—a fact that he regarded as a lifelong irritation—Rory believed he ought to have been born in 1620 and slain nobly in battle.
The 20th century, for all its chaos and modernity, seemed too tame for him.
Yet despite this temporal misplacement, he devoted his life to upholding, reviving, and celebrating the Highland spirit, in all its wildness and hospitality.
Rory was the son of Andrew MacDonald, known as The Major, who worked managing lumber yards across Newcastle, Boston and Liverpool.
Family mattered enormously to him—not just his immediate kin but the whole expanse of MacDonalds whose stories he carried with precision and pride.
His early years followed his father's work, with holidays at Blarour, near Spean Bridge, giving him his first love of Lochaber.
With the outbreak of war, Rory's mother Hilda moved the family south to Surrey.
At the age of six, Rory was sent to Gilling Castle, the Benedictine-run prep school for Ampleforth College.
There began a lifetime wariness of authority: he did not take kindly to being 'telt', and this resistance became a defining feature of his character.
Twelve years later, Rory left school with a scholarship to Oxford—and, reportedly, the most beaten backside of his generation, according to family friend Fr Anthony Ainscough.
Oxford, like school, proved a difficult fit.
After National Service with the Queen's Own Cameron Highlanders, during which he skied in Austria and developed a fondness for Highland camaraderie, he returned to university life.
But Oxford could not compete with his appetite for mischief and high society.
After a brush with the college's Master, Hugh Trevor-Roper, Rory was sent down alongside his friend John Gaynor.
Stints at Harrods, in the packing department, and the Distillers Company followed.
It was during his time with Distillers that Rory began to find his métier: whisky.
After training in Craigellachie and Edinburgh, he was sent to Montreal and then New York, where his job was to know every barman in Manhattan.
He started drinking at 11am, finished at 2pm with a 'cinema nap', and resumed at 6pm. Always immaculately turned out with a raven mane and widow's peak, Rory was a striking figure.
In New York, he met Nancy Hill, a 24-year-old Ivy Leaguer with red hair and composure to match his fire.
They married in the US and took the first boat back to Europe.
As Rory put it, there was no way his children were going to be raised as Americans.
Working in advertising in London, he abruptly announced one day to his wife and two young sons that he had purchased a pub in the Highlands.
The pub was the Clachaig Inn in Glencoe, which he would transform into one of Scotland's best-loved hostelries and his true spiritual home.
At the Clachaig, Rory thrived.
He welcomed climbers, hippies, folk musicians, Billy Connolly and all Glaswegians in search of air, conversation and ale.
He banned Campbells from the premises—an infamous move—but simultaneously cultivated a famously warm and eclectic atmosphere.
The Clachaig became a cultural and communal institution.
He joined the mountain rescue team.
He reinvigorated the Ballachulish Shinty Club, acted with the Kinlochleven amateur dramatics group, ran for Parliament as a Tory in West Dumbarton in 1974 and drove a Territorial Army truck up Ben Nevis to prepare for nuclear attack.
Rory banned music that wasn't Gaelic, hosted ceilidhs, and wrote a book about Coll of the Cows.
He once bought a cider press for Glencoe cider, then sold it after realising apples were hard to come by.
He and Nancy somehow brought up four young in the house they built by the pub.
Among his lasting achievements was the creation of Glencoe whisky, a robust 100 proof vatted malt which he marketed with elegance and belief in provenance.
Initially sold only at the pub, he scaled it across the Highlands from the boot of his car.
He refused a £500,000 offer from PepsiCo when they proposed altering the label.
In the late 1970s, he sold the Clachaig with a three-day lock-in.
In 1980, the family was joined by daughter Charlotte, and soon moved Texas, where Rory ran the World Trade Center – a marketplace in Houston.
A high-profile job, he was known in the Houston Society.
From Houston, the family moved to Philadelphia, Nancy's hometown, where Rory worked in executive roles.
Angus and Peter remained in the UK, but his love and pride for them continued—even if it was more often expressed to others than to them directly.
In 1990, he returned alone to Lochaber, declaring it the place his soul required.
He started a nursery, selling heathers and berating tourists for overwatering his baskets.
He met Marion, who became his second wife and anchor for the remainder of his life.
With Marion, Rory softened.
He welcomed his children's spouses and adored his grandchildren and great-grandchildren.
Ever the historian, Rory amassed a trove of knowledge about the West Highlands and the MacDonalds of Keppoch.
Even as his health declined, his mind remained razor-sharp and his wit intact.
He continued to recite poetry by heart, particularly the 19th-Century verse he had loved since youth.
Rory was, always, a man of his time—and a man entirely of another
He is survived by his wife Marion, his children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and the countless friends and strangers who found welcome, laughter and fierce hospitality in his presence.
A burial service was held at Collie Choirill. Mourners were invited to join the family to raise a glass and share stories.
Rory would have wanted a good party.
