Hawking carters (part two)

We're back with those hawking carters.

It's got me thinking about something. When I was a kid, my Dad used to order beer from Davenports. ("Beer at home means Davenports, that's the beer, lots of cheer." I can still remember the song from the TV advert.) Where did they stand legally? If I remember rightly the beer was delivered during the day. I am pretty sure that, unlike Falkirk's carters, the Davenports driver s didn't go around knocking on doors trying to flog beer.

They're back discussing the licence options. An excise licence only allowed the sale of over a certain quantity of beer, because it was intended for wholesalers, not retailers.

"Mr Learmonth (continuing) said it was being carried out so far as it was possible for his clients to do so. As to whether an excise licence would meet the case, he had to submit that it would still further encourage shebeening. Under an excise license a party could take 4.5 dozen of beer, when at present he only ordered a dozen bottles. He hoped his friend would hold it to be sufficient for the present that he had ventilated the subject. It was out of all reason that his clients, who had held a licence for a great number of years, should be brought up here and made to answer a charge of this kind when no complaint was made against them. The charges for hawking which Mr Gordon had referred to were charges which affected another district altogether. In the circumstances it would fair to continue the licences at present."
Falkirk Herald - Wednesday 12 April 1899, pages 4 - 5.

I can understand the annoyance at being punished for the misdeeds of others.

"Mr James Aitken, brewer, said that his firm had held a licence for a great deal more than a century, although his memory, did not go back quite so far as that- (laughter) - and they had never had any complaint made to them, either  officially or unofficially, of their, men hawking liquor in any shape or form. That being so there was surely no reason for not renewing an old certificate so long held by his firm. They had always traded in a fair and straightforward way, and he hoped that would long be their aim. He thought that if bottlers in the neighbourhood would prevent their men from selling to anyone except licence-holders at wholesale prices, the objection would be got rid of. His own firm did not supply private parties except at the gross price of the goods.

Mr Learmonth said that an association of aerated water manufacturers had been formed and the matter would have their best consideration. There was this difficulty to contend with in the matter of withdrawal from the commission on the sale of beer, that if they gave them no commission they would leave the licensed grocer with whom they had been in the habit of dealing and go next door to the private individual and perhaps sell him the same beer at almost double the price he would have to account for to his employer. That being so, he did not think the withdrawing of the commission on the sale of beer would be a great success.

Mr Aitken said that his firm had given it a trial for nearly two years, and had to abandon it. The men got a considerable increase in wages to give up the commission, but the change was not satisfactory."
Falkirk Herald - Wednesday 12 April 1899, pages 4 - 5.

Mr. Aitken, as you probably recall, was the owner of the eponymous brewery in Falkirk. Getting carters to forego their commission on beer sales clearly wasn't as simple as it sounded. As the carters were free to move to other employers who did pay commission.

Shebeening is another one of those things, like women drinking, that the authorities were obsessed with in the 19th century. Basically it was an illicit pub, where a private individual bought a large amount of drink wholesale and then retailed it in their house. There seems to have been a fair bit of anti-Irish prejudice in the concern about shebeening which, you will note, was described by a word derived from Irish.

"The Clerk said that it was within their Honours' power either to withdraw the licences, to continue the public-house licences, or to substitute for them grocers' licences. The latter method would not affect the question of hawking to any great extent, as the bottlers would send out their lorries the same as at present. They would not, however, have the right to sell liquor to be consumed on the premises as at present. As to the supplying of shebeens, it could hardly be made the subject of complaint against a bottler if he sold beer to a reasonable quantity to people who gave the order in the regular way. He would suggest that employers should try and see that their men better carried out the instructions that they got, as it was quite an open secret that the orders in the bottlers' books were not the orders carried out by the men. They gave an order for a spirit dealer for six dozen of beer or so, and went and sold that beer to private individuals at a larger price."
Falkirk Herald - Wednesday 12 April 1899, pages 4 - 5.

It seems that the bottlers weren't the only ones whose carters were pushing drink. The grocers were, too, but with whisky.

"Bailie Hamilton said that while he sympathised with a great deal that the Provost had said as to the bottlers overstepping the law by supplying drink to people who were not entitled to it, he thought that the proper course to follow was to adopt the suggestion of Mr Gordon and grant a grocer's certificate. He moved accordingly. He knew of grocers in the town who had two or three vans on the road, not hawking beer but whisky. He knew of a case where there were hundreds of gallons of whisky sold by grocers the country, and for them to step in now and to take such drastic proceedings against bottlers was to allow the grocers to continue their hawking was not just and reasonable. Supposing the bottlers got an excise licence, they would be entitled to sell four dozen of beer to one party and that was a strong reason for setting up a shebeen. Under the present licence a carter could not so sell four dozen bottles of beer. The people must first give him their order, and he had to go back to the bottler and get them before delivery. They could depend upon it that the carters would take ways and means of getting their liquor disposed of. He, however, hoped, that after what had been said by Mr Gordon, that the bottlers would endeavour to sell to wholesale people, and if they did sell to retail dealers, let them charge the regular retail prices."
Falkirk Herald - Wednesday 12 April 1899, pages 4 - 5.

What was the net result in Falkirk? The bottlers were given grocers' licences, which didn't seem to change anything much, as they could still send out carts and had never really sold beer for consumption on the premises anyway.

How the beer trade worked (part two)

I  just love this article. It combines seevral of my Scottish obessions. Including the relationship between publicans and brewers in Scotland. Or, to be more precise, between Scottish brewers and publicans. Because the publican in this case is situated in England.

It's a report of the bankruptcy of a Newcastle publican:

"LOCAL FAILURES.
A meeting of the creditors of George Muir, licensed victualler, Rose and Crown Inn, Newgate Street; Green Tree Inn, Scotswood Road; Prince Consort Inn, Cottenham Street; and residing at 7, St. Thomas's Square, Newcastle, took place on Friday, at the offices of Messrs Gillespie Brothers, accountants, Westgate Road. Mr Wm. Allan, representing Messrs McLellan and Urquhart, Dalkeith the principal creditors, occupied the chair. The debtor had filed a petition for liquidation by arrangement or composition. - The statement of affairs as on the 10th February, presented by the receiver (Mr Thomas Gillespie), showed as follows:- Liabilities: unsecured creditors, £3,102 17s 9d; creditors fully secured, £2,843; estimated value of securities, £2,890; creditors partly secured, £142 5s; estimated value of securities, £117 11s; creditors for rent, rates, taxes, and wages, £306 18s 3d (deduct from assets per contra); total, £3,127 17s 9d. Assets: Stock-in-trade, £174 7s 5d, namely, Rose and Crown Inn, £73 10s 5d; Green Tree, £57 7s 8d; prince Consort, £43 95 4d; cash in hand, £4 10s; furniture at 7, St. Thomas's Square (see creditors partly secured)- surplus of securities in hand from creditors fully secured, £47; total, £225 17s 5d. - The debtor, examined by Messrs T. Forster and Theo. Hoyle, solicitors, said he commenced business about eight years ago with a capital of £100 or £150. He paid Mr D. A. Williamson £300 a year rent for the Green Tree Inn and £160 a year for the use of the fixtures; and for the Rose and Crown be paid £150 a year rent and £300 a year for the fixtures. What he was paying for the fixtures in one year might be their worth. The average receipts for the past six months had been, Rose and Crown, £36 a week; Green Tree, £40 a week; Prince Consort, £20 a week. His expenses, exclusive of gas, were £3 10s a week for the Rose and Crown, £3 17s for the Green Tree, and £2 5s for the Prince Consort. He had no books, and had never kept any. He banked all the money except for expenses. He had paid £5,000 or £6,000 during the last six months. His last payment was £60 to Mr Williamson on January 28th. He took stock six months ago. and it was valued at £500. He filed his petition because he was pressed by Messrs Younger of Edinburgh. On 29th January, he gave a bill of sale for £142 5s to Mr Williamson for past consideration, and a present consideration of 5s. The bill of sale was registered on February 5th, and the petition was filed on the 10th. He produced a letter from Mir Williamson, dated 16th January, calling upon him to pay the amount due. Mr Williamson, as landlord, had already security on the fixtures and stock. He had nothing to show what was the amount due; it had been more, but he had given two cheques, one for £50 on the 21st, and one for £60 on the 28th January. He could not tell on what day he took stock; it might have been in August. He had never deposited any money with Williamson; He had paid £3 5s a month for five years into a building society on account of his house. Mr Williamson had never taken over his interest in the building society. He used to buy stock of Williamson until two years ago. There were agreements for the houses, but Mr Williamson and Mrs Brooks had them; he did not know they were leases or quarterly tenancies. - It was resolved that there should be a liquidation by arrangement, and Mr Thos. Gillespie was appointed trustee, with a committee of inspection, consisting of Mr Allan, agent for McLellan and Urquhart; Mr Campbell, agent for Aitken and Co.; Mr G. Milburn, manager for Mr F. M. Laing; Mr James Reid, for Clark and Son, Leith; and Mr Jas. Tait, agent for McKay and Co."
Newcastle Courant - Friday 05 March 1880, page 5.

I'm jumping from foot to foot in excitement. What a lovely treat. So much detailed information and some of my favourite characters. Or at least their agents.

Before we go any further, I'll point out that there's a misspelling in the article. They manage to get wrong the easier of the two partners' names in McNellan and Urquhart. Not sure where they got McLellan from.

That "committee of inspection" consists mostly of brewers' representatives. McNellan and Urquhart, Aitken and Co. and I think McKay and Co., too. And "Messrs Younger of Edinburgh", who precipitated the bankruptcy, must surely be one of the brewers Robert and William. Given their interest in the liquidation, I think it's fair to assume they were owed money. It also demonstrates the extent of Scottish brewers' trade in the Northeast of England.

Mr. Muir doesn't seem to have been the smartest businessman, despite running three pubs. Having no idea of how much you've paid in rent and how much you owe seems pretty poor. He didn't seem to have any idea of , or in his possession, the rental agreements.

Why had he paid Mr. Williamson "£5,000 or £6,000 during the last six months"? The rent and fixtures cost for two of the pubs was £910 a year. If the third pub cost a similar amount, that's still only £1,350 a year. Had Muir got several years in arrears in his rent?

On the face of it, his business looked healthy enough:

	Rose & Crown	Green Tree Inn	Prince Consort
rent	£2.88	£5.77
fixtures	£5.77	£3.08
expenses	£3.50	£3.85
total	£12.15	£12.70
income	£36.00	£40.00	£20.00

Though those expenses can't include beer. One barrel of standard-strength beer like X Ale or Porter cost about £3. It's hard to guess how many barrels the pubs would have got through in a week. More than one, I'm sure. He did have stock worth £174 7s 5d across the three pubs. How many weeks; worth would he have.

The cost of the pubs in rent and fixtures looks pretty high. Eight quid odd, at a time when two quid a week was a good wage.

Aitken's Ale in Australia (part two)

Aitken, big exporter, shipped loads of beer to Australia. That's a quick summary of the story so far. But why didn't they use their famous red "A" trademark?

From various newspaper reports of beer arrivals, I've been able to discover much. Like just how widely distributed in Australia Aitken's Ale was.

Let's go through the different colonies. First New South Wales:

Aitken's Ale, in hogsheads and half-hogsheads, in prime condition-HARRISON AND ATTWOOD, 251 George-street.
The Sydney Morning Herald, Previous issue Thursday 12 October 1893

Now Queensland:

The shipment of Burke's stout per Pass of Balmaha has been sold, and two consignments of Aitken's ale have been sold to arrive.
The Brisbane Courier, Wednesday 8 May 1901, page 8.

Where we also discover that Aitken's bottled Ale was brewery-conditioned:

Aitken's Ale, being entirely free from sediment, is the best for hotelkeepers' use.
The Brisbane Courier, Monday 19 October 1891, page 5.

Now Victoria:

Bottled ales and stouts are moving off freely at agents' prices. Besides other parcels, we are advised of 100 casks of Aitken's ale having been cleared off at current rates.
The Argus (Melbourne), Tuesday 21 September 1886, page 4.

And finally Tasmania:

10 casks Aitken's qt. ale, 10 csks do. pt do., 20 css Burke's light sparkling ale qts., 10 do. do. pts.,
The Mercury (Hobart, Tasmania), Saturday 29 April 1882, page 2.

Right, that's Aitken's considerable presence in Australia confirmed. Let's move on to their trademark. In Australia, from what I've been able to glean from the newspapers, their bottled beer was sold with the bizarre "Lifebuoy" branding. You can see what it looked like to the right. Probably the oddest old label I've seen



Here's some proof of its use in Australia:

James Aitken and Co.'s Bottled Ale, "Life Buoy" Brand (quarts).
Morning Bulletin (Rockhampton, Queensland), Thursday 18 July 1901, page 4

Aitken's Lifebuoy Ale is the best and purest in the Queensland market.
The Brisbane Courier, Thursday 3 December 1891, page 3.

Aitken's Lifebuoy ale 9s.; bulk half-hogsheads £2 5s; hogsheads, £4. i.b.; Tennant's, 8s. 6d. Frans Joseph Lager, 12s. McEwan's, 10s. 6d. and 7s. 6d.; bulk, £4 10s., i.b. Beaver brand ale, 9s. 6d. ; Beaver brand stout, 10s. 6d. to 10s. for parcels. Dogs Head, quarts 11s., pints 7s. 6d. Burke's stout, quarts, 11s. Tennant's, 8s. 6d. Dagger stout, quarts, 10s., for parcels, to 10s. 6d. Pig stout, quarts 10s. 6d., pints 7s. 6d. Foster's 10s. 9d. and 7s. 6d. Aitchison's ale and stout, 10s. and 7s. Lager Bier : Crown brand, quarts, 11s.; pints, 7s. 6d.
The Brisbane Courier, Tuesday 8 May 1900, page 8.

I'm pretty sure I know why Aitken used this design rather than their usual distinctive red "A". Because someone had beaten them to it. Take a look at this label, registered in Victoria in 1871:

It's from Thomas Aitken's Victoria Parade Brewery of Melbourne. Who must have been one of the earliest breweries in Melbourne. Funnily enough, the brewery can't have been far from where I used to live. This is the first reference I've been able to find to the brewery:

THE Subscriber, in returning thanks to his friends for their post support, begs respectfully to acquaint them and the public that he has opened the premises No. 12 Flinders-lane west (opposite the Rob Roy Hotel), where always will be kept a Stock of Ales and Porters, in bulk and bottle, direct from the brewery, at brewery prices.

THOMAS AITKEN, Victoria Parade Brewery, East Melbourne.

The Argus (Melbourne), Tuesday 4 September 1855, page 8.

I'll finish with a question. Anyone know:

• the exact address of Thomas Aitken's brewery?
• when it closed?

Aitken's Ale in Australia

I've told you that Aitken was a big exporter of beer. Particularly to Australia. Well here's some evidence of that trade.

Let's begin with an article. Perhaps advertorial might be more accurate. Because it's really just a puff for Aitken's wonderful new Ale:

Aitken's Falkirk World-famous Prize Golden Ales.

BULK AND BOTTLE.

The thousands of people in Australia who believe in the superiority of British beer over anything else of the kind yet produced, will be downright glad to hear that that colossal English propretary, the Aitken Ale people, have determined on making Australia a separate and distinct field for their enterprise. People who have turned their attention to the subject, will have noticed the marvellous improvements effected in the draught British Ale offered for sale throughout the colonies daring the last few years. Previously it was heavy, always unsuitable to Australia or wants. This, doubtless, arose from a non-acquaintance with the climate of Australia. The British Ale which has come to Australia in bulk has been much improved, and but for the colonial article and the protection duty of 25 per cent, per hogshead, the consumption would have been much greater. The means of communication are more expeditious, and the brew is delivered her in excellent condition. The proprietary of the world famous Aitken's Ale have resolved, however, on yet greater improvement, and for some time past started on the important work on providing a brew specially for Australia. The coming summer season will find this available all over Australasia. The British firm's agents are Messrs. Phillips & Co., of Bridge-street, their agents for New South Wales, and these gentlemen are prepared to do business on special terms in bulk and bottled ales of this special Australian brew at, we are informed, very reduced prices. The attention thus given to the colonies in this important essential of British Ales is satisfactory evidence of the growing importance of these colonies in the eyes of the world beyond the seas.
North Australian (Darwin, NT : 1883 - 1889), Friday 4 September 1885, page 8.

There's lots of good stuff in there. First: Aitken brewed an Ale specifically for the Australian market. What was it like? From the description of the unsatisfactory Ales as being heavy, I suppose it must have been light. Was it a type of Pale Ale. Or was it an "Australian Ale"?

It's difficult to believe that a brewery in Falkirk was a supplier of draught beer in Australia. When you think of the distance involved and the Australian climate. And people think globalisation is something new. It's hard to think of a more global institution than the British Empire. The United Nations, there's one. But you know what I mean.

I'd not realised that the Australian clonies imposed an import duty on British beer. 25% is a fair whack. It's easy to see how Aitken's profit margins could have been squeezed once colonial brewing picked up.

You know those weird Aitken labels with a figure clinging to a lifebuoy? I think I might know a reason why they exist. And why Aitken didn't use their red A trademark in Australia. But that's for next time.

Brewing at Aitken in the 1950's and 1960's (part two)

I never promised you a rose garden. No, I promised you more excruciating detail about brewing at Aitken. And here is is, not petals and thorns but casks and kegs.

"The worts were then divided into five vessels and brought to a certain gravity by adding cutting liquor (hot water) then cooled down as process for worts. Yeast was added to each fermenting vessel while worts was being added. Each fermenting vessel had coils to control temperature during holding time (several days). Once certain gravity was reached in vessels, beer was then either put into casks or transferred to holding containers in the bottling hall to be bottled or placed in kegs/canisters when ready.

One complete brew from start to being declared, vessels dipped and gravity checked and put into the excise book, took approximately 11 hours. On the night shift, one foreman brewer, 6 operators, and a fireman on the boilers, could make around 400 barrels of beer of different gravity. More fireman worked day shift as steam was needed for washing bottles and casks, as well as daytime brewing."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, pages 15 - 16.

Now there's something odd. Why, when the wort hadn't been cooled, would you dilute it with hot water? Surely you'd save cooling if you used cold? The coils to control the temperature in the fermenting vessels are, of course, attemperators.

400 barrels on one night, eh? Add a day shift and you've a capacity of 800 barrels a day. Multiply that by 300 brewing days and you get 240,000 barrels annually.  That's a pretty decent-sized brewery, especially in Scotland. As you can see, brewing operations didn't require a huge amount of labour. Just 8 men were needed to brew 400 barrels. Of course, you still need people to fill the bottles and barrels, draymen to take the beer to pubs, administrative workers, etc, etc. But actual brewing requires hardly anyone at all.

"Empty wooden beer casks were prepared for filling at the washing area next to the coopers department. They were thoroughly washed then steamed, before being brought to the filling area beneath the fermenting vessels. The casks were prepared for filling; corks were put into the end and they were marked with the type of beer they contained. A discharge line was filled between the fermenting vessel and the filling machine. Four heads from the filling machine were fittted into four casks. When full, the filling head was withdrawn and a bung with a partially-bored half-inch hole was fitted to seal the cask. These casks were all set up and handled by two women workers. The casks were mostly filled by Mr Tandy Aitken.

The full casks were then transferred to large holding cellars holding approximately 800 casks. Over a period the bungs on these casks were punched in the middle and an inch-long cane spile (or plug) was placed in the bung. (This let beer in cask work off.) Beer froth worked its way through the spile. Liquid colouring, candy, and finings were added to the casks.

One of the heaviest jobs in the cellar was when 'hardening' was done. This entailed upending casks full of beer - usually weighing 7 to 8 hundredweight - so the coopers could hammer down every metal band. The cask had to be turned to allow the other side to be done.

Samples of every brew put into casks were taken and kept in a cask in the sample room in the cellar in case of complaints from customers. The samples were always held there until all the same brew was finished."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, pages 16 - 17.

Was Mr. Tandy Aitken one of THE Aitken's? I doubt it very much. He wouldn't have been filling barrels if he had.

I've never come across that "hardening" process before. I can understand why you'd do it - to tighten the staves as much as possible. I wouldn't want to do it myself, mind. I can imagine how much fun manipulating a full 36-gallon wooden barrel would be. Empty ones are trouble enough.

How they treated the cask beer beer drew my attention. Clearly it was being conditioned in the holding cellar before sale. Not only that, it was also being primed and coloured in the cask. That peculiarly Scottish practice of colouring the same basic beer to a variety of different shades. It doesn't make my life easy, I can tell you. You've no idea of the colour of the final beer based just on the brewing records.

Shipstones used to keep samples of their draught beer in a similar way. They had a special cellar with a barrel of each batch of Bitter along one wall and barrels of Mild along the wall opposite. I'm sure many breweries did something similar. As insurance against complaining landlords.

And finally, a little something about the beer itself.

"Of the beers brewed. Export and Pale Ale were both bottled and placed in kegs or barrels for draught. Strong Ale, called wee heavies, was bottled, as was stout. Piper Export was made and first sold for the English market. It was sent to Newcastle by rail (the brewery had its own railway sidings running down to Grahamston Station), and later also sold in Scotland. After Younger's of Alloa closed, some workers came to work at Aitken's. Younger's made Belgium Ale. Aitken's had a trial run making this very strong beer, but after one brew never made it again."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 17.

Now here's a funny thing. I've started coming across references to WH from brewery employees. But it's always in the plural: wee heavies. Strange, isn't it? I've absolutely no idea why, or what significance it might have.

Younger's Belgium Ale. I think we all know what that was: Gordon's Scotch Ale. So they tried to brew it at Aitken, after Younger's Alloa brewery closed. Where did it go after that?

Brewing at Aitken in the 1950's and 1960's

I was particularly pleased to find this particular reminiscence in the Scottish Brewing Archive's Falkirk edition. It's from Arthur Crumb, who was Production Supervisor for the 10 years leading up to the brewery's closure in 1967. Why am I so pleased? Because it's a description of the brewing process.

"Grain for brewing beer came from Linlithgow maltings. This grain was prepared for brewing beer by being spread on stone floors and rotated round these stone floors containing heat. The grain was then put in sacks and sent to the brewery, where it was stored in large bins.

The production and number of brews was decided every Friday. The materials and times for a production of a complete brew of beer from start to finish was then entered in the Custom and Excise book in the Customs Office at the brewery.

For each brew a grist line was made out for how many quarters of malt grain, flaked maize and rice. The grain was then weighed, put through a rolling mill - the rollers set so that the grain seed was cracked open (not crushed). This was then put into a mash tun hopper ready for mashing at beginning of a brew. A sample of this grist was taken when grain had been through mill and checked in the lab."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 14.

That's a pretty dodgy description of the malting process. But, as he wasn't a maltster, I'll let him off. One thing I'm learning: even though the barley might have come from anywhere in the world, the malting always took place in Scotland. Those were Aitken's own maltings in Linlithgow. And pretty substantial ones, as Bernard describes them (you can also see a picture of them above):

"Where is now the new range of malthouses and kilns, formerly stood the Main's Distillery, celebrated at the end of the eighteenth century for the special character and quality of its Lowland malt whisky. One of the old malthouses, the walls of which are of great solidity and strength, is still standing, and is utilized for its original purpose. It was in the year 1875, that the new maltings were built, under the personal direction of Mr. John Aitken, the present senior partner. They are most substantial four-storied stone buildings, of neat elevation, and possess a frontage to the meadows of 190 feet."
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 2" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, page 189.

But that's enough of the maltings. I need to live up to the word "brewing" in the title. Let's move on to the brewery itself.

"Aitken's brewery had two mash tuns, one large, and one about quarter size of the large one. Large mash tun was for most beer brewed; small mash tun for making stout.

These mash tuns had close fitting brass plates fitted on the bottom with fine slits to let raw worts run through. To start a mash grist in hopper was controlled by feeding into a long funnel with a screw worm inside, this was mixed with hot water to a porridge-like paste. This mixture had to be kept at a specific temperature which was registered on a chart. From start to finish a mash was half-an-hour. The grist was then lifted up about four inches by pushing hot water through pipes in bottom of mash tun. This would have the mash sitting on top or supporting the mash.

After two hours we started running raw worts from the bottom of the mash tun. This was done by opening eight taps. This was then run into two coppers with steam coils in bottom. To keep the mash tun level hot water run at controlled temperature was sparged on top of grist to let it filter through grist into mash tun. When these two coppers were being filled and boiled up hops which had been selected and weighed, tins of malt extract, eight one-hundred-weight blocks of sugar (like tablet) were all added to the coppers then boiled for two hours and sampled. Gravity checked. These were then run into square hop back containers which had brass plates with fine slits. The raw worts was then pumped to another holding tank. This then ran through two parraflows; hot worts to one side of plates, cold water other side, and worts then came out at a reduced temperature. This was then pumped to selected fermenting vessels (tuns).
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, pages 14 - 15.

Porter and Stout never reached the same dizzy heights in Scotland. Stout was a niche product for most of the 20th century. Which explains why it was brewed in a mash tun a quarter of the size used for other beers. They only made small quantities of it. Or perhaps, as some others did, they made it up mostly from ullage and returns.

By "Screw worm" he means a Steel's masher. I'm not going to explain again what that is, other than to say: external mashing machine. It would be odd, no downright weird, if they hadn't used one. The next bit is exciting. The bit about pushing hot water into the mash from below. He's describing an underlet mash. What does he mean by lift up? does he mean that it lifted the grain bed off the false bottom? I'd always assumed the point of underletting was to raise the temperature of the mash. Here it sounds more like it was to lift up the grain bed.

Two hours standing is pretty standard, though the odd brewery kept it down to just 90 minutes. Then they opened the taps and fly sparged. Fascinating stuff. Not really. The next bit is, though. See? The description of the copper. Heated with steam coils. That is, not directly fired. So pretty useless for kettle carmelisation. No surprise that sugar went in the kettle. The malt extract is more unusual. I've seen it in logs before now, but it didn't say where it was added. It's a shame there's no mention of how much. Because there's one reason I can think of for using malt extract: lack of mash tun capacity. That probably isn't the reason, though. My guesses are always rubbish.


Here's a break with Victorian practice: no cooler. The wort is going straight from the hop back to paraflow refrigerators. I wonder what happened to all the gunk that would settle to the bottom of the coolers? How did they get that out of the wort? (I worry about some weird things.)

This is getting a bit long. Best save some for part two.

Inside Aitken's new bottling hall

We've learned all about the technical details of Aitken's fancy new bottling line. Now it's time to get to know the people working there.

In another passage nicked from the Scottish Brewing Archive's Falkirk issue, Max Cowan remembers his father's time working in the bottling plant:

"MY FATHER. John Cowan, served his time as a filler in the Engineering Department at Carron Iron Company. Like many others he was made unemployed during the Depression. He started working in the Brewery in 1932 and although I cannot be definite on the point. I think this was related to the fact that his father worked as a chauffeur for the Aitken family at the time. I do not know if he was initially involved on the bottling side, or whether he look up his role as the bottling engineer when the new bottling hall was opened in 1938. Certainly, from that point onwards he was the bottling engineer until closure.

A consequence of being the sole bottling engineer, was that he was excused military service during the Second World War because Aitken's had his job classified as a reserved occupation. Beer was brewed not only for the civilian population, but for the armed forces as well. I can remember him quoting an army saying, 'no beer, no fight.' For this reason, the Brewery was very busy during the War and there was a lot of overtime working, he was often called out at night when there was a breakdown and he was sent for because he lived two minutes walk from the Brewery. The same night shift worker was sent and my mother used to say 'here's that man again', a catchphrase used in the Jimmy Handley radio programme at that time. Breakdowns were frequent during the War and in the latter half of the 1940's because spare parts were difficult or impossible to obtain and much of the machinery was repaired on a 'make do and mend' basis with improvised parts. One other thing I can remember him mentioning about the War years was that very strong stout was brewed and exported in casks to Canada where it was cut with water before consumption."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 10.

That's a funny story about the Stout. For a couple of reasons. Where I have heard a story like that before . . . . . I know - the one about IPA being watered down on arrival in India. This one sounds more likely to be true. It may sound odd them exporting beer during the war, but exports didn't totally dry up. I have the figures somewhere.

I can't believe that I can correct him about this, but he's got the wrong Handley. Tommy not Jimmy Handley was in "It's That Man Again". It was a hugely popular progamme. They even made a film. Which leads me to a beer connection. In the film he plays the mayor of Foaming at the Mouth and in his office has  . . . . a barrel of beer.

Getting back to the text, noteworthy that bottling engineer was a reserved occupation. In WW I the Wrexham Lager Brewery tried to get their German-born Lager brewer exempted from military service on the grounds that he was irreplaceable. The tribunal disagreed and he was conscripted.

"With regard to the Bottling Hall, I was a regular visitor as a schoolboy. When my father was working late unexpectedly, I was sent to the Brewery with his 'piece'. I remember it as a place that was very noisy when the bottling line was running - nobody wore car defenders in those days. The floor was always wet - leather-soled shoes didn't last long in the bottling hall. When I first went to the Bottling Hall as a child. I was surprised to find so many women there. Of course much of the work was done by women, such as minding the machines and lines, checking the bottles as they passed a large glass magnifier and filling the crates.

Towards the end of the nineteen fifties a canning line was installed. My father was sent on a two week training course at the Worcester works of the Metal Box Company so that he would be able to maintain the new machinery.

The period from mid-November to the New Year was always busy and sometimes I wouldn't see my father for most of the week because the Bottling Hall would be running six and a half days and four nights per week. At Hogmanay, the employees could buy bottled beer packed in brown carrier bags with string handles and the famous red 'A' on the sides.

Another big event for the maintenance staff was the 'blowdown' when all brewing and bottling stopped for two weeks in the autumn. The name derives from the fact that steam generation stopped allowing the chimney to be cleaned. During this period, an intensive programme of maintenance was undertaken throughout the brewery and this involved a considerable amount of overtime working. Outside contractors were also called in at this time. For example the inside of the pasteuriser was cleaned and sprayed with zinc."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 11.

Here's another colloquial word: "piece". And one I understand well, because my dad used it. It means packed lunch (if you want to be all middle class). Or did he say bait? It's so long ago. He might have used both.

The 'blowdown' concept is new to me. But I can see how it would make sense. You couldn't really clean the chimney while the brewery was operating. It makes me wonder how many other breweries did something similar. By checking brewing records it shouldn't be too difficult to spot a break in brewing. I must remember to do that.

I'd love one of those brown paper bags with a red A. I doubt any still exist. It's hard to think of something more ephemeral than a paper bag.

You know what I'm going to say: not done yet with Aitken's bottling hall.

Drinking inside Aitken

Drinking in breweries used to be common. I doubt there was a dry brewery in the country 50 years ago. Drinking went on before, during and after work. Health and safety concerns have, I fear, ended the fun.

Here Jimmy Manson, once an Aitken employee, remembers:

"We used to get free beer. You were allowed to go to what we called the Murly when you started work at 7-30am, at lunch, and when you finished at 5pm. The amount of free beer that you got was dependant on the size of the container that you look along, although obviously there were limits. And even with all this for nothing, there was still the occasional person caught trying to smuggle more out of the brewery. One day there was a terrible crash in the yard. A woman had slipped on the metal weighbridge and dropped all of the bottles of beer she'd had hidden up her skirt. It was quite funny at the time, but in the end she got her books."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 8.

This must have been draught beer, as it was being filled into containers. Reading carefully, it sounds as if you could fill up a jug to drink while at work, have a couple of pints with your lunch, then fill another jug or whatever to take home at the end of the day.

Not being of the female persuasion, I've no idea how many bottles you could fit up a skirt. How had she secured them inside? Like much about women, it's all a mystery to me.

Arthur Cramb, another former Aitken employee, also remembers free beer:

"Brewery workers were allowed to have a drink before and after work. They went to a room set aside for this. Staff were allowed two dozen beer each month, which was delivered to your house."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 18.

The word "staff" is being used in a very specific sense here. It means salaried office personnel as opposed to the hourly-paid manual workers. They'd have been given bottled beer because they wouldn't have gone to the Murly with the manual workers.

The Murly sounds much like what I experienced at Hole's. We had our breaks in a bare cellar. A keg of AK and another of Mild in one corner. I used to eat in there. On reflection, it may not have been the most hygienic environment. None of the office or managerial staff were ever to be seen there.

We weren't allowed to stock up on beer to sip while actually working. But there was a way around that. Some of my colleagues would rinse out the plastic cups from the tea machine and fill them from the keg filler. A bit messy, but it worked.

Max Cowan recalls the final party at Aitken:

"When I arrived at the Brewery on its last official working day, I found my father reasonable quickly, but not in the bottling hall. If I remember correctly, he was in the shed where the casks were stored. He asked me if I wanted a drink and look me into a corner where a firkin was set up with what I think was Aitken's Heavy. It quickly became clear to me that everybody had been drinking for most of the day. The other thing that struck me was that there did not seem to be any of the white collar staff around, perhaps that was intentional. After a few pints we went to the Brewer's Room in the main part of the Brewery where some of the employees had gathered and had a few more drinks. There were no speeches, although there may have been earlier. It was simply a case of workmates saying goodbye to each other. The atmosphere was reminiscent of the fag end of a long Hogmanay. The only other thing that sticks in my mind is that my father and I got a lift home in a rather tatty Aston Martin that one of the former Younger's of Alloa employees owned."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 13.

At least they got to drink their farewells with cask beer. Nice touch that. Given that it sounds like there was plenty of boozing on a normal working day, I'm not surprised they'd been going a bit crazy on the last day. Only natural.

Aitken's new bottling hall

James Aitken's bottling hall. We're learning more about it than any man ever need know. This time it's from a newspaper article written at the time the shiny, modern bottling hall opened.

I learned something else today. That the British Newspaper Archive isn't as complete as I'd hoped. I didn't find the article below there, but reproduced in a Scottish Brewing Archive Journal. The archive's collection of Falkirk Heralds only goes as far as 1903. How irritating.

"A new bottling hall, equipped with plant of the most intricate and completely modern description, and costing approximately £20,000. was inaugurated yesterday at the Falkirk brewery of James Aitken & Co. (Falkirk) Ltd. The interesting ceremony of declaring the hall open and setting the machinery in motion was performed by Miss E. M. Aitken. sister of the late James H. Aitken and a descendant of the Aitken family by whom the brewery was founded in 1746. almost two hundred years ago. The proceedings were presided over by Mr R. Beveridge Smith, J. P.. chairman of the company, and others present included Mrs Smith, Mr W. F. Finlay. managing director, and Mrs Finlay; Mr Roy R. Finlay, assistant managing director, and Mrs Finlay; Mr Dan Robertson, director and head brewer, and Mrs Robertson; Mr James H. Finlay. C. A.. Glasgow, son of the managing director, and Mrs Finlay; other directors, and invited guests.


INAUGURATION CEREMONY

Mr Beveridge Smith, addressing the representative company assembled, said they had gathered at the brewery that day for the purpose of assisting in the inauguration of what he considered to be the most interesting thing that had happened in the brewery since it was completed a long number of years ago. That was the starting-up of what he believed was the most up-to-date bottling plant in any brewery north of the Tweed. (Applause.) They were fortunate in having with them Miss Elizabeth Aitken, who would pull the lever which would set the machinery in motion. Before this was done, however. Miss Aitken was to be made the recipient of a presentation, and he called upon Mr J. G. Callander, architect for the building, to perform that duty.

Mr Callander, asking Miss Aitken's acceptance of a beautiful silver bowl, said this was in the nature of a gift from himself and from the contractors as a memento of her performance of the opening ceremony of the new bottling department. He expressed the hope that it would always remind her of her long association with the brewery. (Applause.)

Miss Aitken briefly expressed her thanks and then pulled the switch which set the new bottling plant in operation. Having done so, she was presented with a beautiful bouquet by Miss Lizzie Fallon, the girl employee with the longest service with the firm.

NEW PLANT DESCRIBED

Those present were then conducted on a tour of inspection of the new bottling plant, and all were impressed with its remarkable efficiency and speed in operation. The plant installed is of the very latest design and is capable of turning out from 4000 to 5000 bottles of beer per hour. The whole operation is automatic, and the product is not touched by hand during the whole process. The beer is chilled by means of a 3-cylinder high-speed ammonia compressor working on a patent chiller. In this the beer is also conditioned previous to passing through a filter where all sediment is removed. From the filter the beer passes to the filling machine. This is 24-head rotary filler capable of the output previously mentioned. The process through which the dirty bottles pass before being filled with beer is a most interesting one. The bottles, in two-dozen cases, are placed on a conveyor which carries them to a large "Thoro" brush-washer. This washer is automatic, and when the bottles are inserted by the operator, they pass through a strong solution of caustic soda, continuously being sprayed both inside and out, after which they pass through the hot-water lank, where they are again sprayed, and also brushed internally and externally. After this operation they are given a final rinse thoroughly with clean water. The washed bottle is delivered automatically from the washer on to a conveyor, passing an operator who "sights" each individual bottle as it passes a powerful electric light. If a bottle is not perfectly clean it is taken from the conveyor and is returned to the washing plant.


UNTOUCHED BY HAND

The bottles, travelling along the conveyor, reach the filling machine, where they are filled. Alter being filled they pass along to the crowner, where the bottle is sealed. The bottle of beer is then conveyed to the pasteuriser. This process takes about 1.5 hours, but as the pasteurisation is continuous, and synchronised with the washer, filler and crowner, no delay is caused by the process. From this, the bottle travels on a conveyor to the labelling machine, which labels four bottles at the one time. This machine puts two labels on each bottle. From this point they have to be handled by an operator, who places the labelled bottles in cases, the latter having been delivered to this particular point by means of a conveyor and elevator. The cases of beer are then placed on a run-way which takes them to a box elevator which takes them to the room immediately above the bottling hall. Here the bottled beer is stored, and from here is loaded to the lorries. The plant has been installed by the Farringdon Works and H. Pontifex & Sons. Ltd., London, the well-known brewery engineers. An outstanding feature of the whole bottling plant is the scrupulous care that is taken to ensure that at every stage of the process the beer or bottle is not touched by hand, thus giving a clean and absolutely sterile product. In addition to the beer store on top floor, rooms have been arranged for the manager, reception room, and offices for despatch clerks."

The Falkirk Herald, 21st May 1938

The first paragraph reveals why Aitken's lost their independence: the line fizzled out. James H. Aitken had been the only son and he had no male heir. That his widow lived in France demonstrates how little connection she had with the running of the business. James H. Aitken had only one child, a daughter.

Miss E. M. Aitken was presumably the Miss E. Aitken who was a shareholder when the company went public and the Elsie Aitken who never married. I've no idea if she was older or younger than James H. Presumably she still owned a stake in the company at this point. Which could also explain why she never married: with a private income, she didn't need to.

Four to five thousand bottles an hour sounds impressive. I know that during busy times (mid-November until the end of December)the bottling hall worked "six and a half days and four nights per week" (source: Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 11). Assuming an 8-hour shift and 4,000 bottles an hour, I make that 583 barrels in a week (if they were all half-pints) 1166 (if all pints). Assuming a 50-50 split, that's 875 barrels in a week. Or 5,250 barrels over those 6 weeks.

I love all this guessematics. five and a half 8-hour day shifts at 4,000 bottles an hour, half pints and half half-pints, over 46 weeks is about 21,000 barrels. Add that to the rush weeks and you've got about 26,000 barrels.

In the 1930's bottled beer accounted for around 35% of total beer sales. So my calculation would leave Aitken with a pretty modest output of 75,000 barrels a year. I fairly certain that they really produced over 100,000 barrels a year. Why the discrepancy? They probably didn't do all the bottling themselves.

"The beer is chilled by means of a 3-cylinder high-speed ammonia compressor working on a patent chiller. In this the beer is also conditioned previous to passing through a filter where all sediment is removed." I take this to mean that the beer was chilled and then artificially carbonated in the cylinder and then filtered. Though doesn't it make more sense to carbonate after filtration?

Unbelievably, I've still loads more about bottling at Aitken. Aren't we lucky?

Bottling at Aitken in the 1940's

I feel like I'm getting to know Aitken quite well. And not just the Aitken family, but also the people who worked for them. Back in 2002 there was an issue of the Scottish Brewing Archive Journal dedicated to Aitken. With reminiscences of former employees. Great stuff.

This is Jimmy Manson's description of his time working at Aitken during WW II. It's full of details about the operation of the bottling department.

"IT WAS mainly women who worked the machines in the bottling hall. In 1940 the women were needed to do more essential work for the war effort. Young boys were taken on to do their jobs in the brewery, and so I found myself employed in the bottling hall in 1940. at the age of 14. I remained inside the hall for two years, and then outside, still working with bottles, until 1948.

The work was hard, but it was enjoyable. The hall was below ground level, and there was quite an echo inside. Occasionally someone might start singing, and the sound would be all over the place. It was wet in places, and both the women and men wore clogs, which the brewery supplied for nothing. Some old women still worked there during the war. There was Mary Young, who was the sister of the bottling hall gaffer, and Jean Hendry, who was in her 60s. Jean used to give me a list and I would go down to the Co-op at lunchtime to get her messages."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 5.

Clogs were provided because of the wet floor, which played hell with leather-soled shoes. It was just the same when I worked on the keg filler at Hole's. We were provided with wellies. Not just any wellies, steel toe-capped ones. You needed to protect yourself not just from the wet but also those heavy bloody kegs. You wouldn't want a full one landing on your unprotected toes.

Interesting use of the word “messages” to mean shopping. The Dutch word for shopping is “boodschappen”, which literally means “messages”. Not sure what significance that might have, but I thought I’d mention it.

"The bottles used were either new or returned empties. If empties, you had to take a note of the number of bottles so that customers could be credited. We were so busy that Willie Hunter was taken on to work with me. He noted the number of empties and I unloaded the lorries bringing them in. Sometimes we had to wait after five o'clock for lorries coming in, and sometimes we worked on Sundays, for double time. We always worked until 12pm on Saturdays. When Falkirk were playing football at home, three boxes of Export were sent down to the ground, probably for entertainment after the game. I always went down to the ground with the beer and received a complimentary ticket for the game that day."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, page 5.

It's pretty much forgotten now, but working on a Saturday morning used to be the norm. During the war, hours were even longer. My mum told me that at some points in the war she worked 12-hour shifts 7 days a week. War is, indeed, hell. It sounds very innocent, turning up at the football ground with three crates of beer. But hang on, could that have been during the war? The Scottish League was suspended. Though there were other games played.

Finally onto the meat of the bottling process:

"We got new glass bottles from both the Alloa Glassworks and a place in Guildford. Slim half-pint green glass bottles came from Alloa, and heavier, dumpier brown glass bottles came from Guildford. All our pint bottles were made from brown glass, and these came from Guildford.

When bottles came in they were unloaded from the lorries and placed on a roller to be sent down to two lassies who look them out of the boxes and put them, eight at a time, in the washing machine They were then sent round on a roller to the holding machine, where they were filled with beer. The machines could be adjusted to take into account the different size of bottles. From there they were sent on to the topping machine, where they were either lined with an internal screw-top or a metal crimp-top. The bottles were then stacked on trays and sent through the pasteuriser, before being sent on to the labelling machine. There was very little manual work involved other than the moving of bottles on or off rollers, as the machines did everything themselves, whether washing, filling or labelling.

Beer was supplied to the bottling hall from two cellars. In each there were rows of hoggets [hogsheads] on gantries. One cellar was for 90/- and Export, and the other was for a light ale that was bottled in pint screw-tops and dumpy crimp-tops. The latter was called 'Fourpenny' by the workers, and was generally known as Yellow Label. The beer was piped from all the hoggets into cylinders, then it was passed through a filter before arriving at the bottling machine. Jock Brown was in charge of four cylinders. During the war all Aitken's draught beer was light. The 90/- and Export was bottled."
Scottish Brewing Archive Journal volume 4, 2002, pages 6 - 7.

You can see the synergy that existed within Scottish industry. The glassworks complemented the breweries in Alloa. Mostly car parks now, Alloa's factories. It's hard to imagine now just how prevalent manufacturing industry once was in Britain's towns.

Green glass bottles? That's not very good, is it? I'm surprised. I'd have expected all their bottles to be brown. Bottles with internal screw tops were the first improvement on natural cork stoppers. They remained in use up until at least the 1970's (I can remember buying quart screw-top bottles of Whitbread from Mr. Fisher's offie opposite when I lived in Leeds. Must have been 1978 or 1979.) Long after the introduction of crown corks (here called crimp-tops).

I'm surprised that the beer was still being put into hogsheads before bottling. I'd have expected it just to go into a tank after primary fermentation. Surely filling into hogsheads was only necessary if the beer were to be bottled elsewhere (like Bass or Guinness).

Let's summarize the process: the beer is delivered to the bottling cellar in hogsheads, it's transferred from there into a cylinder, en route between there and the bottling machine it was filtered, once the bottles had been filled tops were put on and they were pasteurised.

Now onto the beers themselves. Luckily I have details of some of them. In 1938, 90/-had a gravity of 1039º. That's similar to Whitbread's IPA or Barclay Perkins bottled XLK. For the period, that's more like a Light Ale than a Pale Ale. In London, standard draught Bitter was about 1045º, Best Bitter 1050º. By 1949, Aitken 90/- was just 1030º.

The details I have for Export are from a little before and are a little after this period. In 1934, it had an OG of 1055º. I'd expect it was of a similar gravity when the war started. That's the strength of a good Best Bitter. In 1954, it was 1043º, still a respectable strength for the time. Based on other beers, it probably bottomed out at about 1038º just after the war's end.

Though I've details of other Aitken Pales Ales, I can't identify any of them as that light ale or Fourpenny. I could make a totally random guess, but there's no point. I'd rather stick with facts.

New Market Bar Falkirk

A photo-inspired piece this time. Just some thoughts that struck me after rolling my eyes over a picture of a Falkirk pub.

The pub in question was an Aitken's house. I don't know if they actually owned it or not. As it was directly opposite the brewery, it's not impossible.

Here's the photo:

My guess would be that it dates from the 1920s or 1930s. That's based on two things: the way the draymen are dressed and the amount of bottled beer.

But what does this photo tell us? Several things. For a start that Aitken still had horse-drawn drays between the wars. Not particularly unusual for the period. Especially for local deliveries. As I said, this pub was directly opposite the brewery. Hang on. I'll show you.

1. marks the New Market Bar and 2. the new Aitken brewery. I'm not sure why they bothered with the dray. They could have just rolled the barrels over the street.

Lint Riggs, the street running down the pub's side looks like it was completely remodelled around 1900, with new buildings down both sides of its entire length. I assume the New Market Bar replaced the Market Inn which had stood at the other end of the street. You can see it on the map above.

Returning to my subject, what's odd about that dray? How few barrels there are on it. Most of the space is taken up with crates. It looks as if just a single barrel (and it is a 36-gallon barrel) is being delivered. That's the one next to the sack at the back of the dray. The other barrel looks like an empty, but I could be wrong. That implies that the pub didn't have a great range of draught beer. I can only see four barrels in total. At this time a London pub would have sold four or five different draught beers. My guess is the the New Market probably sold one or two.

That would make Falkirk more similar to Bolton than London in the beer range typically supplied. Many Bolton pubs sold either just Mild and Best Mild or Mild and Bitter. Which I suppose isn't surprising. Both were provincial industrial towns.

The building is still there (albeit with plants growing out of the masonry), but the Market Bar is no more. It's now called the Goose and looks rather like a Wetherspoons from the outside..

Loads more Aitken fun to come.

Aitken's Old Brewery (part two)

We're back in the old-ish Aitken's brewery. Though as you read the passage below you'll realise that it had already been greatly altered and enlarged.

The original brewery was all on the south side of Newmarket street. But during the 19th century a new, much larger set of buildings had been added on the north side. These wren't concerned with brewing, boiling or fermenting, but were ancillary buildings such as stores.

"Retracing our steps, we came to the mashing-stage, 40 feet square, situated in the centre of the brewhouse. Here we were shown two mashtuns, constructed entirely of copper, and commanded by a Steel's mashing machine. They both contain gun-metal draining-plates, and each is capable of mashing twenty quarters of malt. The underbacks are below the tuns, from which the wort is pumped up direct to the coppers. We have previously written so much on the nature and object of the mashing vessels used in the breweries, that, on the present occasion, our attention will be more particularly directed to the next and following processes."
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 2" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, page 194.

That's what I've been waiting for: the capacity of the mash tuns. At 4 barrels a quarter, that's 80 barrels a brew per mashtun. Assuming one brew in each per day and 300 brew days a year, that comes to 48,000 barrels annually. Not enormous by English standards, but a reasonably-sized regional brewer in Scotland. Thanks for not bothering to describe them in any more detail, Alfred. At least there's an illustration.

Looking at the way that bloke is standing in the mash tun, it doesn’t look like it has internal rakes. Which tells me something. What? That they almost certainly didn’t perform underlet mashing like London brewers. About an hour into the mash more hot water is added to the mash from below (via the underlet, hence the name) to increase the temperature of the bed. It’s a simple form of step mashing. Whitbread were still mashing this way at Chiswell Street in the 1970’s.

Underlet mashing is one of the reasons many London brewers retained internal rakes even after installing a Steel’s masher. Because the practice was to have the rakes revolve once or twice after the underlet to mix the hot water added thoroughly with the grain.

"After this we made our way to the cooling department, covering the top storeys of the adjoining building, and overlooking the main thoroughfare. One of the most striking objects it contains is the hop-back, a large vessel with a graduated bottom, constructed entirely of copper, and containing across its breadth, at the far end, two rows of copper draining-plates. This vessel is used as a combined hop-back and open cooler, and is unlike any we have seen before.

In the same apartment there are two Morton's refrigerators, cooling at the rate of thirty barrels per hour each, where the ale wort is further cooled over the mazy lines of innumerable cold-water pipes before passing into the  great copper mains, which convey it to the fermenting rooms."
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 2" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, page 194.

I wouldn't have minded an illustration of that cooler/hop back device. I can't quite get an image of it in my head. We all know what a Morton's refrigerator is, don't we? No? OK then. It's a bed of horizontal copper pipes through which chilled water flows. Wort flows over the pipes and is cooled.

"Our progress was now downwards, and after inspecting the furnace fires, or copper hearths, as they are called, we made our way back to the courtyard.

Passing beneath the archway, immediately within, on the left-hand side, appears the magnificent tun-room, re-built in the year 1866 and again considerably altered and enlarged in 1878. The building is of solid construction, and is lighted by nine windows in the roof, which contains improved patent ventilators, is ceiled with pitch-pine, and is supported by immense iron columns All the vessels are elevated on brick piers, and fronted by a gallery, which adds much to the impressive effect. The illustration, which heads this chapter, is taken from a photograph, and shows a section of the interior of this tun-room. There are fifteen vessels in this department, all constructed of polished pine, nine of them are fermenting squares, and the other six settling backs, and each is fitted with an attemperator. The copper mains, by which they are filled, are in short lengths and detachable, so as to be easily cleaned. At one corner of the room there is a small Otto gas engine, used for pumping the beer from the tuns into the backs. From this side of the brewery the beer is conveyed through great copper mains, laid under the street, to the racking-rooms on the north side of the brewery. Before leaving this place, we paid a visit to the engine-room, situated under the mashing-stage, and containing an engine of fifteen horse-power, and a large steam boiler. Here also are two sets of pumps for the coolers and refrigerators, reversible, in case of breakdown, and the two great metal underbacks, each fitted with duplicate stopcocks. Walking through this apartment we came to a paved chamber where the spent hops are pressed. The machine is worked by hydraulic pressure, and the wort expressed from the hops is pumped up again to the refrigerators, from which it passes to the fermenting vessels.
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 2" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, pages 194-195.

It's clear that Aitken's brewery had been increasing its size and updating its equipment frequently in the second half of the 19th century. Boom days for Scottish brewing.

I'm not 100% sure what is meant by "nine of them are fermenting squares, and the other six settling backs". Fermenting squares I understand. You can see them in the illustration. Settling backs sound to me like part of a dropping system. It's a shame there's not more description of how these two types of vessel were used.

Fullers had fermenting rounds from which fermenting wort was dropped into settling squares. The way Fullers system of fermentation worked, the beer was only in the rounds 24 hours and several days in the squares. I can't see that working with the setup at Aitken, where there were fewer settling backs than fermenting squares. My guess would (and this is only a guess) that the beer was transferred to the settling backs when fermentation was pretty well complete. That would tally with the description of beer sometimes being put into squares in Edinburgh breweries, mostly to cool it down.

Those fermenting squares look pretty large to me. Look at the height of the things. I reckon they must be 12 feet square and the wort at least six feet deep. A quick calculation (an imperial gallon is 277.42 cubic inches) gives me a figure of about 150 barrels. That's much bigger than the piddling 40 or 50 barrel ones they had at William Younger. Which might explain why they need the settling backs. A larger volume of fermenting wort generates more heat.

Pressing spent hops to squeeze out the last drops of wort was becoming commonplace in large industrial breweries. I'm sure it still goes on today. But what about the quality of the wort extracted? Wouldn't it tend to be full of crap from the hops?

There will be at least more more instalment on the old Aitken brewery. Then we can move on to the recollections of former Aitken employees.

Aitken's Old Brewery

Alfred Barnard - where would I be without him? Having to make do with poorly-written newspaper reports draughted by journalists with no understanding of brewing. Barnard's writing is joyful and his eye for detail uncanny. It's not just the quality of his brewery reports but their quantity that make him such a crucial figure. He really did visit just about every significant brewery in the UK. With one inexplicable exception: William McEwan. Strange that he didn't merit an entry in the Oxford Companion to Beer.



A bit annoying, that. Because, while I have decent enough descriptions of William Younger from other sources, I've none of McEwans. Judging by the profits it generated, it must have been in at least the top 20 UK breweries and probably the top ten.

But I'm wandering away from my theme like a concussed man with 10 pints in his belly. Which, funnily enough, is precisely how I feel. Aitken. That's the theme. His old brewery.

The timing of Barnard's visit was unfortuitous in some instances. Several of the breweries that interest me he visited just before major rebuilding works. Like Hole's. Aitken, too. Within 10 years the brewery Bernard visited was abandonned and searching vainly for a new owner. While progress progressed in the new brewery on the opposite side of Newmarket Street.

Let's get started. Oh, the new brewhouse he talks of is the old new brewhouse, if you see what I mean. Barnard says that he was shown around by the senior partner. That was presumably John Aitken, who died in 1898.

"Entering the brewhouse yard, we passed up a long arched passage, when we found ourselves in a paved courtyard, in the centre of which a tall chimney shaft rears its head. Facing  us, as we entered the enclosure, is the old family residence, in which the grandfather and father of the present partner were born, a part of which is now appropriated to the business, and the remainder used as a dwelling house for the foreman of the works. The original brewhouse, built by the founder, is on the right of the yard, the ground floor of which is now used as a yeast store, and the floor above as the hop loft. This building is fronted by the more modern brewery, which faces Newmarket Street, and extends back a distance of 150 feet. Entering the new brewhouse, we passed up a staircase to the grist room, to which place the malt is hoisted by a block tackle, and delivered into the receiving hopper. The mill room is below, and occupies a recess of the mashing stage. It contains a pair of steel malt-rolls, capable of grinding twenty quarters per hour. Over the mill there is a screening machine, by which the malt is finally cleaned before being crushed. To the mill room succeeds the grist loft The grist travels upwards by a set of elevators, which deliver it to the malt hoppers over the tuns.
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 2" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, pages 192-193.

It was typical for some staff to live, or at least stay overnight, on-site. Most breweries had a head brewers house, which had often started life as the owners residence. Of course, at one time it was common for the one of the owners to be head brewer. This became less the case towards the end of the 19th century when the partners tended to become full-time managers and employ a head brewer.

"Ascending the staircase, we passed through a doorway into the copper room, the highest place in the brewery, where is to be seen a domed copper of 140 barrels content, which is heated by steam coils, accelerated by fire. From the windows we saw, on the other side of the valley, the Forth gleaming in the distance and glimmering through the trees, having for its background our old friends, the Ochil hills. Amid a dense mass of steam we could discern from this stage, the mashing proceedings below, and inhale the delightful odour of malt and hops.

On the same level we were shown two open coppers, each of eighty barrels content, with parachute fountains therein, to control the boiling. We peeped into one of the coppers not in use, it was as clean, bright and shining as a new pin. The roof of this brewhouse is open to the rafters, and, in addition to the windows in the wall, is lighted on one side by a skylight On the other side there is a capacious cold liquor tank for supplying the coppers. Descending a few steps, we reached the brewer's room and laboratory, the walls and ceilings of which are lined with pitch pine. The sides of this pretty room are fitted with shelves for specimens and samples, they also contain all necessary scientific apparatus used by brewers. Below this and the adjoining rooms is the hop-loft, occupying what was once the chief suite of rooms in the old house. The windows are darkened with blue glass, and the room is capable of storing 250 Pockets of hops.
"The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, vol. 2" by Alfred Barnard, 1889, page 193.

Now that's confusing. They've three coppers, one domed and two open. The larger one sounds like the coppers that were common in England, enclosed and heated by steam. Though "accelerated by fire" implies that it was also directly heated. Unfortunately we're not told how the smaller coppers are heated. Damn. I'd been hoping to put another nail in copper carmelisation's coffin.

Having their own lab shows they were taking the business of brewing seriously. True, most large breweries had one by this time, but Aitken wasn't really all that big. An 80-barrel copper implies quite a small batch size. When we look at the mashing department in the next instalment we'll see confirmation of this.

Barnard's tour was in an illogical order, in terms of brewing. Surely you should look at the mash tun first, then the copper. Never mind. I would have swapped it around but, you know, I like, can't be arsed. I want to save my brain power for something more important. Like selecting lunch.

The Aitken family again

More gossip from Alex Young. Sort of about the Aitken family.

I'd not expected this:

"This I must tell you, Mrs Aitken was French, they had a house in St Malo in France. When the Germans invaded France that was one of the first places they occupied Mrs Aitken just got out by the skin of her teeth she got over to Britain in a coal boat with just the clothes she stood up in."

That's the first mention of Aitken's wife. How had they met? I can't imagine Falkirk was full of the French back in 1900. Sounds like she had quite an adventure, dodging the Germans.

This nest section explains the later management of the company.

"Dan Robertson came as the head brewer William Findlay came as Private Secretary to Mr Aitken John Young came as the Foreman Cooper, I'm not sure It's so long ago whether they came from Patersons* or Murray's**

When Aitken died Findlay and Robertson became manageing Directors. At the Board Meetings an Edinburgh lawyer by the name of Beveridge represented Mrs Aitken William Findlay brought into the business his two sons James and Roy, Roy was a partner in a Broker and Accounting firm, Roy was a good Tennis player but a right Playboy, they put him in the advertising side but he did'nt last long. His wild life eventually caught up with him, his wife left him and killed himself drinking. In the meantime the father died and James took over as manageing Directer and was in that position until the take over"

According to "The Breweries of East Stirlingshire" (by Forbes Gibb, 2007, page 31), James Heugh Aitken died in 1933. He'd been running the company since his father's death in 1898. Not a bad run then, 35 years in charge.

Aitken himself (that's him looking dapper to the right) had no son to take over the business, just one daughter. If she'd been a boy, the family might have stayed in control. Bit sexist, these brewery owners. I can't remember any daughters being brought into the business, while it was standard with sons. Up until at least the 19th century, at least one son would be trained as a brewer.

I bet Roy Finlay didn't drink himself to death with beer.



*I assume this is T. Y. Paterson & Co., brewers in Edinburgh, who Aitken's bought and
closed in 1936. According to "The Breweries of East Stirlingshire" (by Forbes Gibb, 2007, page 22) William Finlay (managing director) and Daniel Robertson had both previously worked for T. Y. Paterson.

** Presumably William Murray & Co., another Edinburgh brewer.

Inside Aitken (part three)

Yes, more from Alex Young's letters to Charles McMaster. They're such a wonderful resource for plain old gossip. And who doesn't like a bit of gossip?

But we'll begin with beer and in particular Stout.

"Aitkens were one of the very few firms that brewed stout in fact there was four different qualities, most pubs had it on draught we had a large turnover in Firkins

Most other breweries converted beer into stout, by adding colour , priming, and stout caramel.but most of all they used up ullages and returned beer. Most of the cellarmen had moustaches and you allways knew when they had a go at the stout.

Their tongue was always out licking their moustaches All stout was in butts, Hogheads, barrels, kils, firkins,and sometimes pins. Beer casks had white paint on the chimes stout casks had red. The butts were on high gauntry's all the casks were racked off them. The cellars were the original cellars we did the racking by the open flame of naptha lamps the Bond cellar had gas jets on the walls"

Apologies for the lack of full stops. The original letter only occasionally bothers with them. There's much of interest in that small description. We've already learned that Stout was never as big in Scotland as in London.

I've heard of small provincial breweries in England converting their Mild into Stout in a similar way. Though not with ullage and returns, just the caramel. Though John Keeling told me that the Watney's Cream Stout brewed at Wilson's in Manchester was mostly ullage with loads of caramel and sugar. I wonder what it tasted like? One of the blokes on my course at university used to drink Watney's Cream Stout. And he came from the Northwest, so it probably was brewed at Wilson's. I doubt he ever realised what went into it.

I'm surprised that Scottish pubs had draught Stout at all it the period Alex Young was in the industry. Remember that he started in 1924 and it sounds like he worked at the brewery until pretty much its closure in 1966. Stout going into butts and hogsheads is equally surprising. From the description of casks being racked from the butts, it sounds as if they may have been vatting their Stout still. Fascinating.

Unfortunately, I only seem to have the details of a single type of Aitken Stout. A typical sweet, low-strength Scottish Stout:

James Aitken Stouts 1949 – 1961
Year	Beer	Style	Price	size	package	Acidity	FG	OG	colour	ABV	App. Atten-uation
1949	Stout	Stout		pint	bottled		1020	1038.5		2.38	48.05%
1954	A Stout	Stout	1/2d	half pint	bottled	0.04	1021.2	1041.4	1 + 20	2.59	48.79%
1959	Stout	Stout	14d	halfpint	bottled		1022.3	1039.4	250	2.19	43.40%
1961	Stout (no lactose)	Stout	15d	half pint	bottled	0.04	1022	1038.9	275	2.11	43.44%
Sources:
Thomas Usher Gravity Book document TU/6/11
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002

Finally, can you recall me wondering if Aitken generated their own electricity?  I know the answer now. They did:

"The new brew house opened in 1900 by modern standards was antiquated, the beam engine drove everything inside and outside the building, all of the shafts with loose pulleys and driving pulleys. There was also a gas engine that generated their own electricity 100 volts Eventually it was led to the cellars Two bare copper wires ran the length of each passage the globe holder and flex was attached to a tee piece of metal that bridged the two wires to give you a light any where the length of the wires. clean the wires with your knife and bring both wires together with your fingers and it would ring a bell, you felt a little tingle in your fingers even if they were wet, but nothing like a shock The power house occupied quite a large space, rows upon rows of two feet sqare glass vessels filled with acid and zinc plates."

It all sounds a bit primitive with the bare copper wires. It's odd how Alex Young calls the new brewery "antiquated". Compare that with the newspaper description of the brewery when it opened. That said it was as modern as next week.

Still not quite done with Alex Young's letters.