The Hielan Jessie: Gallowgate’s Grand Old Battle Cruiser

The Hielan Jessie: Gallowgate’s Grand Old Battle Cruiser

There’s no mistaking the Hielan Jessie. It’s the last pub standing on the old stretch of Gallowgate where the East End meets the edge of town—and it’s been there longer than most of us have had teeth.

The place is like a warship moored in the middle of the street. Built like a brick bunker, no frills, no fuss, and absolutely no nonsense. It’s seen generations come and go—boozers, fighters, lovers, chancers, and every variety of Glasgow character you can imagine (and a few you probably can’t). Walk in on any given night and you'll hear three things: laughter, shouting, and Rod Stewart.

The pub gets its name from the Highland Jessie, a The wife of a serving soldier in India in the 1800s —a no-nonsense barmaid who could handle six pints in each hand and put out a fight with just a stare. Nobody knows if she was real or made up, but either way, she’s got more folklore behind her than most Scottish kings. Folk say she once chucked a man through the door for ordering a shandy.

Back in the day, the Jessie was a pit stop for market traders and punters heading to Celtic Park. You’d get a pint, a pie, and probably an argument. It was shoulder to shoulder on match days, and if you made it to the toilet without slipping on the floor or being offered a bet on the score, you were lucky.

Over the years, the Gallowgate has changed around it—pubs have shut, buildings have gone, but the Jessie’s held firm. It’s become a kind of time capsule with Marzaroli on the walls and a set of locals who’ve probably had the same seat since Thatcher was in office.

And don’t be fooled by the rough edges. There’s real heart in that pub. You’ll find some of the warmest, funniest, sharpest people in Glasgow sitting there with a pint of heavy, putting the world to rights. It’s a place where stories get told, legends grow, and great music still matters.

In a city that keeps tearing down and rebuilding, the Hielan Jessie is a monument to survival. It’s battered, bold, and still brilliant.

Here’s to it—and long may it serve.