
We tasted the five-bottle lineup of Buffalo Trace's Prohibition Collection alongside master distiller Harlen Wheatley.
The new $1,000 Prohibition Collection from Buffalo Trace Distillery wouldn’t have happened were it not for a lucky employee who combed through a dusty box earmarked for the dumpster a few years back. Inside? A mint condition copy of every single label the distillery released during Prohibition.
Those very labels now adorn the walls of the Stagg Lodge, a log cabin that doubles as an invite-only dining and entertainment venue on the Buffalo Trace’s Frankfort, Kentucky, grounds. Here, you can see some of the original art for the likes of Walnut Hill Whiskey—one of the 2023 releases—but plenty of Prohibition brands that didn’t make this round, including Old Barbee, billed as “the nonpareil of American whiskeys,” or V.O.P., Very Oldest Procurable whiskey, touted as being “pure because it’s straight.”
And it’s here, within the Stagg Lodge walls, that we’re issued a flight of the Prohibition collection, which includes Old Stagg, Golden Wedding, Three Feathers, Walnut Hill, and Spiritus Frumenti. Seated at the head of the enormous dining table is Harlen Wheatley, master distiller for Buffalo Trace, guiding us through the flight. Here are tasting notes and historical context behind each of the original bottles and brands from more than a century ago.

Three Feathers, 100 proof
This was originally a rye, then bottled in bond, and ultimately a blend from the distillery. The etymology behind Three Feathers is a nod to aristocracy; the feathers are a reference to ostrich feathers, something only the elite could afford in the early 1900s. But it’s also a nod to Albert Blanton and his two other blenders who originally oversaw the brand. Three Feathers was a booming product through World War II when production reached a height of 24 million bottles a year. It was cut during wartime to increase the volume and during that time, it was 80% vodka and 20% whiskey. (Woof.)
What’s Three Feathers Taste Like?
On the nose, it’s surprisingly sweet, with a pop of raspberry and cherry, hiding behind the traditional vanilla and caramel notes. At first sip, I get a pile of leather and tobacco notes, then the rye in the blend charges forth, and for a few seconds, all I get is a punch of pepper and baking spice. For the finish, the rye departs and we’re back to caramel that fades into a dusty cocoa finish.
Old Stagg Uncut and Unfiltered American whiskey, 132.4 proof
Today, we’ve got Stagg (now minus the “Jr.”) and George T. Stagg, but this is where the line began. Old Stagg honors that original recipe of yesteryear and, if we were to bet, this will be the most sought-after bottle among the quintet—partly because it’s the highest proof of the set, and partly because Stagg fans are rabid.
What’s Old Stagg Taste Like?
Compared to Three Feathers, it’s more complex, big, and brash on the nose—”Just like the man himself,” Wheatley jokes. You’ll get some powerful vanilla on the nose, but also some sharp hits of dark red berries. It starts out soft on the palate, but quickly heats up, filling your mouth with warming fire. Push past the heat and you’ll find some sweetness toward the finish, which is big and long, with a little salted caramel right at the very end. If you’re a fan of the rest of the Stagg family, you’ll definitely find Old Stagg right up your alley.
Spiritus Frumenti bourbon, 110 proof
When Buffalo Trace tried to trademark the name of this one, the government would not allow it, on the grounds that it’s a generic name that was applied to all whiskey during the Prohibition era. Translated from Latin, it means “Spirit of the Grain.” Because it’s a wheated bourbon, expect fans of Buffalo Trace’s Weller and Van Winkle lines to covet this one the most. Incidentally, it’s Wheatley’s favorite of the set.
What’s Spiritus Frumenti Taste Like?
Indeed, it’s more mellow and approachable, even from the nose—particularly when sniffed side-by-side with Old Stagg. On the nose, you’ll get a wild amount of brown sugar or pecan pie. On your tongue, the thicker viscosity is immediately noticeable and appreciated. It adds to the richness of the liquid, and your palate soon swings between dark red cherries, browned butter, and butterscotch.
It has an overall creaminess that belies the high proof; you don’t taste the heat from the alcohol in this one. Also absent is the little bit of spice that you’d typically find in a Weller bottle, despite having some rye in the mashbill. This one is creamy and dreamy. When Wheatley asked the tasting participants to vote for their favorite bottle, this won, by an enormous margin. More than half the room liked it best.
Walnut Hill bourbon, 90 proof
This is the brand the distillery knows the least about, Wheatley explains. There’s merely a mention of the brand in early letters from Blanton himself, who oversaw the production of this high-rye bourbon. The original label features Uncle Sam prominently, letting the medicinal recipient know it was made under strict government bottling practices.
What’s Walnut Hill Taste Like?
This is the lowest proof in the set and, accordingly, has the softest nose. You get a little hit of citrus zest, some spearmint, and corn on the nose. Walnut Hill has a higher amount of rye than Spiritus Frumenti, but that doesn’t show up on the nose. The rye arrives a little bit into the first sip, and quickly overtakes the party, giving your mouth plenty of heat and spice, but then it leaves as fast as it came. On the finish, which isn’t terribly long, you’ll discern a little molasses melded with some stewed plum.
Golden Wedding rye, 107 proof
This brand of rye originated in Pennsylvania, at the Joseph S. Finch Distillery, produced by Schenley Distilling, back in 1869. During Prohibition, bottling for Golden Wedding was shared between Schenley in Pennsylvania, and George T. Stagg Distillery in Kentucky. In the late 1940s, the brand moved yet again, up to Canada, where it became a Canadian whisky, and it’s now marketed as Schenley Golden Wedding Canadian whisky.
What’s Golden Wedding Taste Like?
Well, rye, for starters. The nose is all rye spice; you can’t detect much else. On the palate, you’re again met with a heap of rye spice, though it drinks a little lighter than the 107 proof; you’d probably blindly clock it at closer to 95% or even less. Hunt hard as you sip, and you’ll find the faintest soupcon of bananas during the finish, which isn’t protracted.