There are bottles you drink, and there are bottles you sit with. Old Fitzgerald's 1849, a 10-year-old bourbon bottled sometime in the 1960s, is firmly in the second category. This is a piece of American whiskey history — a snapshot of what bourbon looked like before the craft boom, before the allocated-bottle frenzy, before anyone was flipping Pappy on secondary markets. It's just good, old, properly aged bourbon from an era when that wasn't remarkable. Which, paradoxically, makes it very remarkable today.
Old Fitzgerald has always been a name that carries weight. The 1849 expression — named for the year the brand traces its origins — was a staple of the mid-century American whiskey landscape. What you're holding when you open one of these 1960s bottlings is bourbon made under production standards and warehouse conditions that simply don't exist anymore. Ten years of maturation at 45.2% ABV tells you this was built with intention. That's not a token age statement; a decade in barrel at that era's warehousing would have done serious, patient work on this spirit.
At 45.2%, it sits just above the 90-proof mark — a sweet spot that gives the bourbon enough muscle to carry its age without tipping into heat. For context, American whiskey law requires bourbon to enter the barrel at no more than 125 proof, and that entry proof has a massive impact on the final character. Lower entry proofs — which were more common in this period — tend to produce richer, more flavourful whiskies because the spirit pulls different compounds from the oak. It's one of the reasons collectors and serious drinkers chase these older bottlings: the production philosophy was simply different.
Tasting Notes
I won't fabricate specifics here — with a bottle of this age and rarity, every individual example can vary depending on storage conditions over the past six decades. What I can say is that 1960s bourbon of this calibre, with a full decade of maturation, typically delivers a depth and roundness that modern expressions struggle to replicate. Expect the kind of settled, confident character that only comes from genuine time in wood. This is bourbon that has nothing to prove.
The Verdict
At £2,750, this is not a casual purchase — it's a collector's piece, a conversation starter, and a genuinely rare window into mid-century American distilling. Is it worth the price? That depends entirely on what you're buying it for. As a drinking experience, few modern bourbons can match the depth that a properly stored 10-year-old from this era delivers. As a piece of whiskey history, it's almost underpriced compared to what Scottish equivalents from the same decade command at auction. I'm giving it an 8.1 out of 10 — not because anything is lacking, but because the unknowns of six decades of storage mean every bottle is a small gamble. When that gamble pays off, though, this is extraordinary bourbon.
Best Served
Neat, in a Glencairn or a small tulip glass, with nothing added. Let it breathe for a good ten minutes after pouring — spirits this old can be shy at first and then open up dramatically. If you're feeling bold and want to experience how it plays in a cocktail context, a tiny measure in an Old Fashioned with a high-quality demerara syrup and a single dash of Angostura would be remarkable — but honestly, with a bottle at this price point, I'd savour every drop on its own. Room temperature. No rush. This is bourbon that rewards patience, and it's already waited sixty years for you.
