443 Gallowgate, Glasgow.
The Tappit Hen was one of 86 pubs from Glasgow Cross to Parkhead Cross.
There was a pub on this site since the 1830s, however it was better known by the locals as Brechin’s who took over the licence in 1881. The Brechin family ran pubs all over the city including New City Road, Aikenhead Road, Candleriggs, Florence Street, Govan Street, South Wellington Street, Hospital Street, Garngad, St Vincent Street, Donnelly Street, Abington Street and Bellgrove Street.
The Tappit Hen sat on the corner of Gallowgate and Graham Square.
The Tappit Hen. 1960s.
The Tappit Hen getting a delivery of beer. 1960s.
Another view of the Tappit Hen during the 1960s.
To read more on the Brechin family click here.
To read more on the pubs on the Gallowgate read up & Doon the Gallowgate by John Gorevan. A copy can be bought for a few pounds at the Hielan Jessie on the Gallowgate or contact me at email@example.com
In the News 1972…
Old Pub is Frozen
The “Tappit Hen” is a well-known pub name in Scotland because it means a quart measure (usually containing alcohol) with a little, crest on the top like a hen’s.
But I’ve just discovered a Tappit Hen in Glasgow which belies its name. It’s in Graham Square, that entrance to the Meat Market just off the Gallowgate.
Its proximity to the Meat Market is appropriate for this Tappit Hen is a frozen-meat “cash- and-carry” headquarters. It must be the queerest cash-and-carry emporium in the city, because the main part used to be the Tappit Hen pub, hence the name. Where drouthy cronies gathered at the bar, carcases of bullocks and lamb hang now. And the place where the experts played darts is a deep freeze.
I was shown round by Bob Edwards, who is not only the owner but one of the Gallowgate “characters.” I’d hardly get over the shock of seeing a pub turned into a deep freeze when Bob took me round the corner into the Gallowgate to show me his extension. It used to be a branch of the Clydesdale Bank, and the first thing you see when you go in is a door with the legend “Manager.”
Every new and then Mr Edwards runs a competition for the best poem in the style of McGonagall about the Tappit Hen “And I’ve had some marvellous results,” he says.
“We’re not a very big place,” he added, “so we often have a queue outside the door. Well I went along to the Barrows and bought up some umbrellas at a bob a time. Now if there’s a queue standing in the rain, I go out and lend them each am umbrella.” They must have the best sheltered queues in Scotland outside the Tappit Hen.