Closing Time again

Swings and roundabouts. "Elk voordeel heeft zijn nadeel*" as Johan Cruyff so wonderfully put it. There is an upside to strict closing times. The indescribable thrill of getting served outside them. Those who've grown up under a more liberal regime will never experience that unadulterated, but innocent, pleasure.

As long as there have been clsoing times, pubs have ignored them when they could get away with it. On literally several occasions I've had the good fortune to stumble into such a pub. I'll tell you of some of them in a minute. After we've heard from the nice Mass Observation chappies.

"Up to now we have spoken as if the pub shuts up sharp at 10 p.m., the official closing time. This rule is not strictly adhered to. While in London pubs "Time" is often called ten minutes before the closing hour, and the landlord tries to get the pub actually shut at the official closing time, in Worktown the theory is, there should be no more orders taken after 10 p.m. This is demonstrated by the notice in some pubs:

NOTICE. Will you kindly help us by ordering your BOTILED BEERS, etc., for taking out before "TIME" is called, as we must refuse all orders after PERMITTED HOURS. THANK YOU!

In the town centre pubs this is kept to usually, but people go on drinking five or ten minutes after the hour. And in Worktown the pub clocks are not put forward ten minutes as they frequently are in other towns. In the smaller local pubs it is normal for drinks to be served up to ten minutes after the hour, time being called then, and people sit about after the glasses have been cleared, sometimes up to half past ten. Drinkers tell us that in many small pubs the regulars are able to knock on the back door and get served as late as eleven. This is not easy to verify; and indeed, the presence of a stranger in the pub at closing time may be a factor in making the landlord brisker than usual about turning people out. Some pubs, however, make a habit of quite openly serving drink until fifteen minutes after the hour.

A report, which shows how it is possible to get drinks served after the pub has shut, if you know how to set about it;

Observer went with Councillor ______ and an ex-Councillor, to the _______ at 10.20 p.m. The ex-Councillor knocked with a key on the glass door—a special knock. We went in and stopped there until 11 p.m.

That this is not necessarily confined to small pubs is shown by the following remark overheard in a big pub;

Time is called at 10.10 p.m. Woman says "It's ridiculous really, Saturday night you can go on until eleven". The waiter agrees.

The biggest and most open infringements of the legal hours that we have observed took place during the Trinity Sunday Roman Catholic processions. Here are excerpts from reports on this: At 2.45 P.m. we go into pub, ask for drinks. Publican laughs, and says "Do you know what time we close on Sunday?" We say no. He says "2 o'clock, and adds "do we bloody 'ell, I'm going to make sun while the hay shines. And I'll tell you another thing. I'm not closing down for a while yet. It's the first time it's been two o'clock closing and the scholars walking at 2.30. It's a bloody shame!" (Used to be Sunday closing at 2.30. He assumes that everyone should have plenty to drink before walking in the procession.) A man comes in and says "I'll be out and have my lunch and be back again." . . . There are lemonade tables in the less crowded bye-streets. Ice-cream cars and carts in every side street. The G. is all shut up, several St. John's Ambulance men in uniform standing at side door. Nevertheless there's a steady and noticeable stream towards the pub. Many are going into or towards men's and women's lavatories, but most are crushing towards the passage into the pub.

Man 1. "Make way there."
Man 2. "Why?"
Man 1. "It's bloody full up, that's why!"
Man 3. "You can't stir in there!"
Man 4. "It was open to bloody near opening time last year!"

Most of the pushers are R.C.'s from the procession, or bandsmen. Some miss their places in the procession while others run after their bands. There are lots of police about.

Large scale open infringement of the law like this must be deliberately ignored by the police."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 194 - 197.

Calling "time" ten minutes before closing time in London? That's not what it was like in the East End in the 1970's and 1980's. Some pubs openly flouted the law, staying open well past midnight. Not, as you'd expect, pubs hidden away in the back streets, but ones on main roads. The local police must have been well aware what was going on, but chose to ignore it. I'll leave you to speculate what their motives might have been.

My favourite pub in the world used to be the Jolly Angler in Manchester. A lovely unspoilt Hydes pub, where time seemed to have stood still. If it hadn't, the landlord was doing his best to make it stand still. Or at least run differently from its normal course. My love for the place only increased when the landlord said to us: "Come back at half four and knock on the door. I'll open up for you." Very naughty. But it made those pints of Best Mild taste all the sweeter.

After hours drinking. It must still go on. Though with relaxed opening times, there can't often be much point.





* Every advantage has its disdvantage.

Phoenix - fifties pub

Moving on from the 1930's pub, here's a 1950's pub.

"From out of the past rose

THE "PHOENIX"

THE "Phoenix" is the third house to be built by the Company in Harlow new town, its licence was transferred on June 20th, 1957, from the "Old King's Head," Potter Street, which has now been demolished.

In common with other licensed premises in the new town the house is named after a moth.

In designing the new house the Company's Architects Department have, both from a planning and aesthetic approach, attempted to create a building truly representative of its environment. It is situated in the Tye Green neighbourhood centre, which houses young people, many of whom have closely followed the development of their local from a hole in the ground to the finished building.

Accent is on light, colour and space, yet still retaining the intimate qualities found in the Old English Inn.

The House consists of Public and Saloon Bar. Club Room and Off Licence. There are ample facilities for darts and the whole decor is bright and cheerful. Indoor plants have their place in the Saloon Bar where exotic varieties festoon the beech rod screens.

The bottle beer store is at ground-floor level which, by trolly feed system, allows for the easy replenishment of the display cabinets in both bars.

A completely self-contained flat with private entrance has been provided on the first floor for our tenant. Mr. W. J. Liddiard. The "Phoenix " is the third licence held by Mr. Liddiard, who in June this year celebrates 25 years with the Company. In 1933 he became landlord of the "Golden Lion." Lower Edmonton. but it was not until 1957 that he took over the "King's Head." Potter Street. Harlow, which closed for trading later that same year, the licence being transferred to the new "Phoenix."

We wish Mr. and Mrs. Liddiard and their son and daughter-in-law, all of whom take a very active part in the management of the "Phoenix," every success in their new house.

Looking out through the twenty foot window on the front elevation, the view is of the newly completed sports fields and beyond the rolling Essex Hills.

French casements lead out on to a sun terrace and beer garden at the rear of the premises; here, beneath a white pergola and coloured lights, are arranged sun brollies when our climatic conditions allow.

Partitioned oft with mahogany folding floors is the clubroom, which also serves as a useful annexe to the saloon bar.

The off-licence is brightly decorated and contains ample shelving for display and storage of the Company's products. The main display window brilliantly illuminated by concealed fluorescent lighting will not easily be missed at night.
"Courage and Barclay Journal Vol.1, No.3 March 1958", pages 18 - 19.

Sounds wonderful, doesn't it? Unless you look at the photos. "retaining the intimate qualities found in the Old English Inn" yeah, right.

See? All the initmacy of an aircraft hangar. And what a rubbish use of space. See how few tables there are? Not very sturdy looking tables, either. One nudge and you drinks would be all over the lino. Far less practical than a good old cast-iron table.

But, jokes about crap 1950's styling aside, the pub retains a very traditional layout. One surprisingly similar to that of pre-war Bolton pubs. Take a look:

There are still three rooms: public bar, saloon bar and club room. And a central bar area serving both main rooms. In general, pretty similar to this:

Vault = public bar, lounge = saloon bar, taproom = club room.

Did you see the O.L. on the Phoenix plans? That's an off licence, with its own separate door, but still served from the same central bar area. That's a feature of pubs built between the 1920's and 1960's. Before the supermarkets destroyed the off sales of pubs.

I drank in several pubs similar to the Phoenix. Ones built in the 1950's and 1960's. Charmless, but practical. The Cardinal's Hat (a Home pub in Newark), The Fullbeck (an identical Home pub in Mablethorpe), the Turk's Head in Balderton (now a vets).

It's a fascinating - and neglected - period of pub design. Pubs that retained a traditional arrangement, but built in a modern idiom. It's one of the last great burts of pub building. But one that's well hidden. Because these pubs, like the Phoenix, tended to be stuck in the middle of new council estates. Not the sort of place the casual visitor is likely to be wandering around.

I'll leave you with the Cardinal's Hat. The pub with the youngest beer drinker I've seen. The lad couldn't have been more than 11. At least his dad had bought him a full pint.

The taproom and the lounge

Time for the remaining two classes of pub room: taproom and lounge.

"The taproom is the same price as the vault. The same simplicity—it is often like the kitchen of any small farmhouse in the villages outside Worktown. But unlike the vault it is entirely a sitting-room, wooden benches round the wall and wooden stools; unpolished wood tables, spittoons, dominoes. This is more of a club room than the vault. The same people, same clothes, same percentage caps and scarves, but few casuals dropping in. Casuals are somewhat resented if they do drop into the taproom. It would be bad form for a stranger to go in there for a drink. And he would probably notice that the regulars in there were not very pleased to see him."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 105 - 106.

This fascinates me. The idea of  a second public bar type of room. Pretty much exactly like the vault, except with seats. And reserved for locals. The public bars my youthful boozing days in Leeds were more like the taprooms described here. Though there was no restriction on who went in. Quiet hostility to strangers isn't uncommon in pubs. Who hasn't walked through the door of a pub only for all conversations to stop and for everyone to turn and stare? It's happened to me on numerous occasions.

"In the lounge there are padded seats and chairs; a piano with a stool for the pianist; no standing. Aspidistras or other plants in 75 per cent; pictures on the wall, or modern wall decor; never stone floored, but lino, rubbercloth, etc. Generally a hearthrug. No games. Seldom a bookmaker's runner. Often adverts for non-alcoholic drinks. And always someone to bring you your drinks on a tray. You cannot see the bar from the lounge. In brief, the lounge is a large comfortable room with decorations such as may be found in any Worktown home, but on a large scale, on a middle-class level of comfort, with servant and service, everyone in smart clothes. You do not come to the lounge alone. If you do you are conspicuous. You come to the lounge with your social group, ready made, and sit at a table, having no especial intercourse with people at other tables. There is no sex division within the lounge. Each table tends to be a hetero-sexual group—though often these groups are exclusively of men or of women. Sixteen per cent of all pub-goers are women. About a third of all pub clients are in the lounges in pubs outside the town centre. The rest in the tap and vault. Average close on 45 per cent of the people in the lounge are women; in pubs where there are several lounges one may have 90 or more per cent women, it will have become a snug or bar parlour type, reserved for regular women in the same implicit way as the taproom is reserved for certain male regulars.

The saying "A woman's place is in the home" is still current in Worktown where 44 per cent of the adult women earn their own or their families' livings directly (over half these work in cotton mills). And the woman's place in the pub is that part of it which is a home from home, a better home from ordinary worker's home, where  — the only time in worker life in Worktown — you don't have to do any more than order someone else to serve your physiological need or wish. And, as usual, the woman's part is the one of cleanness, ashtrays, no random saliva, few or no spittoons. The vault is the place where men are men. In the lounge they are women's men, with collar studs. For that, as usual, they must pay another penny."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 106 - 107.

Carpet. That was on the floor of the lounges I remember. Lino was just too Spartan by the 1970's.

Waiter service was the biggest difference between the lounge and the rest of the pub. Waiters, as far as I can tell, disappeared in the 1960's. A few pubs have retained them, but very few. I've only ever been in two myself. (One was in Grimsby, the other Wigan, which isn't far from Bolton.) It was an odd experience. I didn't really understand how it worked, ordering from the waiter and having my beer brought to my seat. If it had been more common, I might have been more comfortable with it.

I've read this sentence a dozen times and still don't understand what it means: "Each table tends to be a hetero-sexual group—though often these groups are exclusively of men or of women." The groups are mixed but exclusively either of men or women? That makes no sense.

"women's men, with collar studs": what does that mean? Silver-tongued seducers, I think. As we'll learn later, there was plenty of shagging going on in 1930's Bolton.

The vault

A handscanner is a very handy device. It's what I've been using on the "Pub and the People". I scan in the pages then OCR them. Not too bad, effort-wise.

Lexie needs cash and was asking for jobs he could do. "You could scan this pub book for me." "How much will I get?" Kids. Such mercenary bastards. "Three cents a page, Lexie. That'll be three whole euros if you finish it off."

He didn't, of course. I'm too fussy (I insist the scans are legible) and Lexie's too impatient. I finished it myself. Made for an thrilling Saturday morning. Adrenalin junkie, that's me.

All of which is irrelevant to the rest of this post. Which is about the different rooms in a 1930's pub. I have to smile at the attempt to rationalise and categorise something as amorphous and anarchic as pubs. But that's what middle-class academics love to do. It;'s a harmless enough activity.

We'll begin with my old stomping ground, the vault:

"The real difference between these rooms is in the relationship between the people in them, and the relationship of all the people to the permanent personnel of the pub. Broadly, this is the subject of most of the rest of this book, but it will be useful here to specify some points in the general pattern. The fact that the vault is the place where you often stand is first important. You do not come to the vault to relax physically. And many of the people in any vault are working nine hours a day on their feet. (The great majority of workers, both sexes, in Worktown have jobs which involve standing or walking about, mainly in artificially hot or damp atmospheres, tropical all the year round, so noisy that a lip-reading system has developed as language.)

Only men are allowed in the vault. There is a sawdust strip along the bottom of the bar, or the derived spittoons with sawdust or (further derivation) without. The seventeenth century usage of vault-lavatory has already been mentioned. There is something of the gent's lavatory and structure in a vault, which is almost always long and thin, and stone floored (in the older pubs). The vault is nothing like home. It is an exclusively male gathering. And the males who come to it come singly. They know that they will meet company there. To the vault you go singly, to the lounge in groups.

There are seldom pictures or decorations of any sort in the vault. There are very seldom aspidistras. There is generally some sort of game, often several. There is usually a bookmaker's runner who comes in at certain times. And the landlord spends most of his time there. There is of course constant contact between the people in the vault and the person or persons behind the bar, who may be a woman, and may then become focus of a whole pattern of banter and flirt. You may spit on the floor or burn the bar with a cigarette, and the barmaid won't reprove you. Indeed, as one pub-goer remarked, "You can do almost anything you bloody well like in the vault, short of shitting on the place."

The vault is thus the place where the male comes to relax mentally, though not so much physically. To meet other men, many of whom he only knows here, who may never have seen each other's wives except on the last half hour on Saturday when the man may accompany his wife in the lounge."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), page 105.

I keep banging on about how I recognise so much in these pubs of the 1930's from my own experiences in the 1970's. But almost none of the description applies to the pubs I knew. First off, most people sat. None of this standing lark, except for the odd person at the bar. There were neither spittons, nor sawdust, nor were the customers exclusively male. There were decorations, too. Like the Brassmoulders collection of Rugby League photos. Arial shots of a packed SCG, where Great Britain were playing Australia. Bookies runners were long gone, though, like at the Whip, a bookmakers was often only a few steps away.

I wouldn't have spat on the floor or burned the bar in any pub I knew. Not if I wanted to drink there again. Shitting on the floor was definitely out. They'd obviously got more houseproud over the decades.

Long and thin - yeah, that was true of many. Stone floors? Mostly tiled in Leeds, as I remember. Quite often lovely decorative tiles. Or is that my memory playing tricks?

Almost 800 words already. Far too many for a blog post, according to the blognoscenti. I'd best stop now. Taproom and lounge will follow soon.

Bolton in 1854

Funny the way you stumble across things you aren't looking for. I came across this when scouring government papers for statistics. It's about Bolton's pub scene in the 1850's.

Before we start, an important observation. The man being interviewed, Mr. Cunliffe, was a temperance campaigner. Which is fair enough, as he doesn't sound like someone you'd like to share a pint with.

"2414. Sir G. Grey,] Are informations more frequent in Bolton against the keepers of public-houses than against the keepers of beerhouses ?—About the average. I have a return of the number of convictions of public-houses and beerhouses.

2415. Does it show how often the same person has been convicted ?—It does not show that; in that respect it is defective.

2416. You are not able to inform the Committee whether the cases of second and third convictions are frequent in Bolton ?—I think not; I think they rarely come in the same year; it is allowed to pass over, and they are allowed to begin anew the following year.

2417. The recommendation which you gave just now would apply to any conviction subsequent to the first conviction ?—Yes.

2418. Chairman.] You have no doubt that the offences are more frequent than the convictions would show ?—No doubt.

2419. Sir G. Grey.] What is the number of public-houses in Bolton?—One hundred and eighteen.

2420. How many beerhouses are there ?—Two hundred and eight.

2421. What number of convictions were there last year?—Convicted in penalty and costs, 11 public-houses and 30 beerhouses; convicted in costs only, five public-houses and 18 beerhouses.

2422. Chairman.] Was any licence taken away ?—No.

2423. Sir G. Grey.] Is there an efflcient police force in Bolton ?—Yes.

2424. What is the number of the police ?—About 30.

2425. Is that a sufficient force to exercise a vigilant superintendence over the public-houses and beerhouses ?—Yes.

2426. What is their motive for informing against these public-houses; are they directed to watch them, to go into them, and give evidence against them ?—They are directed to watch them; frequently the offences are so glaring and notorious that they cannot overlook them.

2427. What are the offences chiefly; Sunday trading?—Chiefly for selling at unlawful hours on Sunday.

2428. You do not doubt that that is done to a considerable extent?—No.

2429. Sir G. Grey.] What is the population of Bolton?—About 64,000.

2430. What is the number of persons who were convicted of drunkenness out of that population last year?—Eight hundred and fifty-eight.

2431. Chairman.] Do you know whether those cases of drunkenness are of people incapable of taking care of themselves ?—They are divided into two classes: the Return gives, "Persons drunk and incapable, males, 312, females, 81; persons drunk and disorderly, males, 376, females, 89." The two make a total of 858 ; but I apprehend there is a class of offences called " assaults," which is really often drunkenness.

2432. It is not classed as such ?—It is not classed as such. If a person gets drunk, and commits a violent assault, he is brought up for an assault, and the drunkenness is merged in the assault.

2433. You do not get an idea of what is the whole conviction for drunkenness from those returns?—By no means from the return of persons convicted of being drunk and incapable, and persons drunk and disorderly. There are hundreds who are really drunk and staggering along; but if they will pass at all peaceably on, they are suffered to go.

2434. You have come to some conclusion generally, have you not, with respect to the effect of this drunkenness upon the habits of the people as to their moral conduct and general demeanor?—Yes.

2435. Do you consider it is the root of all the demoralisation which exists ?— I think it is the great curse of the working classes especially, and the great incubus which keeps them in debasement and wretchedness.

2436. You think if. chiefly arises from the facility to get spirituous liquors w hich is presented to them ?—It largely arises from the easy way they can get drink, and the proximity to temptation.

2437. Do you believe, if the temptation were out of their way, they would be less gross, and their habits would generally improve ?—I have no doubt that drunkenness would decrease 50 per cent.

2438. Do you know many instances in which people have given up drinking; where you have seen their habits totally change?—Great numbers; a most decided change.

2439. Have you any doubt that at the present time numbers would get intoxicated, not in a public-house?—There are a few; there are some "hush-shops" in Bolton, but not nearly so many as in other towns.

2440. Should you apprehend a great increase of those houses, supposing the public-houses were closed on Sunday ?—I have no doubt there would be some increase.

2441. How would you reach those houses ?—I would do all the law could for reaching them, for selling a wrong article.

2442. You think the inspection is not sufficiently vigilant now ?—It is not sufficiently vigilant; a conviction is too difficult.

2443. Would your remedy be to appoint a person whose distinct duty it should be to watch those houses, and inform against them when they are erring ?— I have no distinct opinion upon that subject; it must rest with the police authorities, or with the corporation; but I think that the conviction should be of the easiest kind possible.

2444. If you were to close these public-houses on Sunday, would it not require some person whose duty it should be specially to discover whether persons were selling spirits in other houses ?—I have no doubt that the lessened duties of the police consequent upon the closing of the public-houses on Sunday would leave them more at liberty to do this.

2445. You have no doubt that the habits of a vast number of people in Bolton are those of drunkenness ?—None whatever; I divide drunkenness into voluntary and involuntary ; voluntary drunkenness I attach to those who are deliberate and settled drunkards, and who will have drink if they can get it.

2446. You do not suppose, do you, that by merely closing the public-houses on Sunday you would really reform those persons ?—No.

2447. "What would be the case with those persons if the public-houses were closed on Sunday; they would get drink ?—There would be some clandestine drinking ; the law would be evaded, as all laws more or less are.

2448. You do not consider it would be a complete cure?—No; it is not a complete cure that we expect, but a very great abatement; and that is the whole that we can expect the Government can do.

2449. Have you any further suggestions to make with respect to restricting the licences to those houses ?—I think with regard to the Beer Act, if I might be allowed to refer to it, that the Beer Act itselt has been an immense curse to the country, and ought to be gradually repealed.

2450. Do you think that the people drink more beer than spirits ?—In Lancashire they do; but the Beer Act has multiplied the temptations, and brought them nearer to the people.

2451. Do confirmed drunkards drink chiefly spirits, or beer?—They vary; you cannot classify them; some of them are inveterate spirit drinkers, and others drink nothing but beer.

2452. The greatest temptations are in those houses where they stand and drink, and go out again immediately ?—The greatest temptation is in those houses where the beer is cheapest.

2453. Chiefly the spirit vaults ?—No ; we consider that they sell cheap beer where they stand to drink at about 4 d. per quart, and as low as 3 d. per quart.

2454. That is very weak beer, is it not ?—I suppose it is strong for mischief, although it is weak for anything good.

2455. If they drink plenty of it, it would have the same effect as strong beer : —Perhaps the alcoholic power is not so much derived from the presence of malt as from the presence of other sugary matters which they put in, such as treacle and so on, which will produce alcohol by fermentation."


. . . . . . .



"2475- Sir G. Grey.] This paper, which contains a copy of the memorial which you have stated was signed by 2,000 ratepayers, praying that no additional licences might be granted, was printed at Ipswich ; how do you account for that ? — It was a copy of our memorial; we generally print the proceedings of the licensing-day ; we have opposed it the last eight years.

2476. Why is it printed at Ipswich and not at Bolton ?—Mr. Alexander, at Ipswich, prints temperance tracts, and seeing some good in that, he adopted it.

2477. Chairman.] Do the public-houses at Bolton belong to respectable people in the town ?— Generally.

2478. They would not go with you in closing them ?—I do not suppose they would venture their character upon opposition.

2479. -Are they brewers and distillers ?—Not generally.

2480. Sir G. Grey.] How many public-houses, if any, have been licensed by the magistrates since this memorial was presented in August 1848?—Only one to a railway station, for the last eight years ; there have been no licences granted since that memorial was adopted.

2481. Are the magistrates acting in accordance with the prayer of that petition ?—For the last eight years they have done so.

2482. Chairman.] Do you know what the increase of beerhouses has been since that time ?—They have fluctuated from 180 up to 210 and 213 ; they change hands very much."



. . . . . . . . .



2506. Chairman.] Have you any statement of the number of persons found in public-houses in Bolton, on the Sunday evening?—Yes, in 12 public-houses there were 231 persons present, and in 12 beerhouses 195 persons present; that was on the 4th of June 1854, between the hours of 8 and 9 o'clock p.m. (The statement was delivered in).

2507. I understood you to be of opinion that the Beer Act should not be repealed immediately, but only by some gradual process ?—By a gradual process.

2508. Have you ever presented to this House a petition to that effect ?— Numbers have been presented with that view, this is a copy of one of the petitions. (The same was delivered in.)

2509. Mr. Gregson.] You have stated that at Bolton the beer was all consumed by tippling at public-houses, and not by families at their meals ?—Principally so.

"The Sessional Papers of the House of Lords in the session 1854; Reports from Select Committees ogf the Hous of Commons, and Evidence; Public Houses" "Minutes of Evidence Taken by the Select Committee on Public Houses, etc." pages 132 - 136.
http://books.google.nl/books?id=FB9cAAAAQAAJ&pg=PR13&dq=Parliamentary+Paper+beer&hl=en&ei=KtoeTsXiJpDpOfDcqZkD&sa=X&oi=book_result&ct=result&resnum=3&ved=0CDIQ6AEwAjgK#v=onepage&q=beer&f=false

What a bastard, eh? Quite happy to deprive the working classes of their only bit of fun. The theme of saving the working class from themselves isn't new in Britain. It's the common thread linking this text from the 1850's, 1930's Bolton and the modern British media, with their obsession about chavs and binge drinking.

The whole point of this discussion is that the local magistrates had no control over beer house licences. Beer house licences were issued directly by the Excise and were granted pretty much automatically, as long as a few basic conditions were fulfilled. Fully-licensed public houses, on the other hand, were at the mercy of the magistrates. In some towns, temperance campaigners got themselves onto licensing committees and refused to grant any new licences. This may have been the case in Bolton.

Mr. Cunliffe told us that in 1854 there were118 fully-licensed pubs and 208 beerhouses. By 1869 it was 123 pubs (the prayers of Mr. Cunliffe and his chums must have stopped working) and 329 beerhouses.

The situation changed in 1869, when the law was changed to allow magistrates to refuse beer house licences. The number of beerhouses immediately went into decline. In Bolton, that meant the immediate closure of 69 beerhouses. They were gradually whittled away over the succeeding decades and by 1935 there were only 169 left. Fully-licensed pubs fared much better, and there were still 102 in 1935.

Limited drinking hours on Sunday clearly weren't popular. Serving outside hours on Sunday was the commonest offence of publicans. I can understand why. You work like crzay all week, then the one day you have off the pubs are shut most of the time. Enough to drive anyone to crime.

What an odd expression, "tippling at public-houses". It makes drinking in a pub sound like some seedy activity. Which I guess was the idea.

Pinters

We've not been to Bolton for a while, have we? Time to revisit its 1930's pubs. This time with a vital question: glass size.

One of the biggest surprises for me about pre-war Bolton pubs was that most men drank halves. Something I've never experienced in a pub. Not one in Britain. (In Australia, of course, you rarely see anything bigger than a half. And never anything as big as an imperial pint.) I was intrigued as to why they drank from such small glasses. So I was pleased to find this explanation:

"PINTERS"

This brings us to the question of "pinters" — men who drink pints instead of gills. According to Nicholson (London Survey) men drink pints because it is something to grip on to. He quotes these words being used to him by drinkers. Also he says, it makes the beer last longer. This again, he bases on what pub-goers have told him.

Our Worktown timings show conclusively that the time taken, per pint, is practically the same whether it is drunk in pints or gills. Observers have reported men drinking pints with a group of gill drinkers, and finishing off their mugs the same moment that the others are draining their second gills. To confirm this, the same observers timed 48 beer-drinkers in London pubs (December);
result:

Pints    17.5 minutes average speed.
Halfs     8.6 minutes average speed.

In this small series, pints actually averaged more than twice as long as half-pints.

The fact that the mug "is something to grip on to" has to do with pint drinking. The landlord of a beerhouse who has recently installed gill mugs tells us that they are very popular. On the other hand, many pubs do not provide mugs with handles, and serve pints in large plain glasses. The actual size of the glass must also be taken into account in this respect. The habit of drinking gills from pint glasses may be due to this.

Nicholson also says that the majority of London pinters are old men. Our observations bear this out for Worktown too. One of the reasons for this may be purely historical. Before the war, when beer cost a great deal less than now, most working class drinking was done in pints. A factor for changing this may have been the increased price. (We say "may have been", because, although a reasonable suggestion, we have no proof of it, and other factors are involved.) But men who have been used to drinking pints for years have formed a habit pattern which is hard to break, so whenever possible they continue it. Besides old men, the other common classes of pinters are labourers, and people who do heavy manual work, especially foundry workers. In the forge people bring in bottles and drink them off.

A barman writes:

Pints—depends on how much one can swallow at a gulp. This is entirely a matter of natural growth, and when one has attained the degree of a pinter, a half pint seems insignificant, and you are well steeped in the drinking habit. Seems a matter of choice and habit and maybe length of thirst and pocket.

He is wrong — as those who best know so often are. We see here that the size of the pint glass gives the feeling that the men who drink from them must be drinking faster and more than those who drink gills. Connected with this is the fact that the labourer and the outdoor worker who are usually pinters, do very often drink more than other pub-goers, owing to the nature of their work, which makes them thirsty. Hence the feeling that there is something "manly" about pint drinking, and inversely, that it is "unrefined". The landlords of some pubs refuse to serve pints in the parlour. Women do not drink pints — the story of a woman who used to do so bears out these points: it is a discussion in the parlour of a small beerhouse, among a number of women, some of whom are drunk.

Discussion about a lesbian woman. They concentrate like hell to try and remember her name. After four minutes'working on it and puzzling, one remembers it, and there is joy all round, and the name is reiterated again and again. The following remarks were made about her:

"She be dead and buried now."
"The worst thing about her is neither woman or man."
"'er and Emily lived together."
"She was rather on the vulgar side."
"She was very dirty spoke though."
"She'd stand up at fire." (This mentioned twice.)
"She'd rather have a pint than a gill."

Undoubtedly, the pint mug is associated with labourers, men drinking in dirty working clothes, and old chaps who spit a lot and smoke cheap twist. The association between pints, spitting and strong tobacco is dealt with below. In the lounge of the town-centre pubs, pints are a rarity; while in most vaults they are normal. In the pubs in the "Irish" district, mentioned earlier, to ask for a gill in the vault is to become conspicuous. The first time an observer ordered one, the barmaid repeated "a pint", and there was some difficulty in getting across the idea that a gill was required. A man with a trilby, standing next to the observer, who didn't seem to belong to the pub (he wasn't talking to any of the other chaps) turned and said to the observer in a low voice — "Most of these navvies they come in 'ere and order a pint, you see. ..."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 183 - 185.

I already knew that larger glasses tend to slow rather than speed drinking pace. I'm surprised that the difference recorded in Bolton between pint and half drinking times was so small. Just 0.3 of a minute. 17.5 minutes for a pint is a pretty good pace. 15 minutes I found to be the maximum comfortable pace for me. 20 minutes is a bit more civilised.

Hard times are a reasonable explanation for the switch to halves. Especially in a culture of round-buying.  By buying halves, both the amount needed to buy a round and the amount any member was likely to overspend by buying odd rounds was minimised. WW I - what isn't it to blame for? That old men - whose drinking habits were set before the war - were mostly pint drinkers seems to confirm the role of WW I. Odd, because in my experience, old men were some of the few males likely to be drinking halves.

The use of beer for rehydration is another common theme. Especially for those working in hot, physically demanding trades like foundrymen or glassblowers. Or during harvest time, when a supply of beer was considered essential to get the best out of workers. Harvest beer, a low-gravity Mild continued to be brewed well into the 20th century.

I've a good story about women and pints. When I drank in the Cardigan Arms in Leeds during the late 1970's, there was a couple who used to be regulars. Both were in their late 50's. The man would always go to the bar and order a pint and two halves of Tetley's Mild. The pint was for him and the two halves for his wife. I can remember pubs that refused to serve pints to women. Only because it was considered "unladylike". How culturally defined such ideas are is demonstrated by Bavaria and Austria. Where women - even grannies - are happy to drink beer in litres.

I love the conversation between the women. It's like a cross between a scene the Rover's Return snug and Mrs Brady Old Lady.

Vault, Tap Room and Lounge

Think I'd forgotten about Bolton and its pubs? No way. Just got a little distracted by Irish Ale.
We're continuing with an entertainingly earnest description of the different rooms in a pub. Youngsters might find this as exotic as the researchers themselves. The biggest physical change in pubs since I've been drinking - and quite possibly the biggest in centuries - is knocking through all the rooms into one. I'm old enough to remember most pubs still being multi-room. Being a cheapskate, I almost always drank in the public bar. Why throw money away just to have a carpet on the floor? That was my thinking.

"Nomenclature of pub rooms varies. Colloquially the lounge or parlour is often spoken of as "the best room", and sometimes "the music room". A slang term for vault, occasionally used, is the "sawdust parlour", a reference that is more comprehensible when it is remembered that at one time the whole vault floor was strewn with sawdust or sand, a custom that no longer prevails here, but has been observed in some small country pubs in the south.

When we come to the "official" names written up on the doors of windows of the room we find the taproom sometimes called the News Room (cf. eighteenth century use of pubs for newspaper reading), and the best room called the commercial room. In other pubs it is named the Bar Parlour. A wide variation from normal nomenclature is shown in the following report:

. . . the landlord took me round to see the lounge proudly and said "This is what they call the Concert Room".
. . . The vault is labelled Saloon and another room Smoke Room. I ask if there is no vault here? The landlord, age 40, well built, pale but healthy looking, in a good suit and gold watch chain, says "This is a real new style pub. Well, this is the vault. It's called the Saloon. That's the thing in the newest. You don't properly have a vault in the town. Vault's outside the centre. That's the way things are, more highclass. He does not seem snobbish about this, in fact rather deprecating. He adds it is also a saloon because it has seats and tables
round it.

The class hierarchy of the various rooms—which we must now examine—is well illustrated by this, the landlord thinking that the name belonging to a higher class of room can make the vault "more highclass". Also the town centre pubs are more respectable. "You don't properly have a vault in the town" (this is in fact untrue).

In three or four of the big central pubs that have been rebuilt or redecorated the south of England nomenclature of Public and Saloon bars has been adopted. (In one of them castor oil plants are found in the saloon, as a distinct mark of "class"). Some other town centre vaults are called Saloon Bar. But normally, throughout all classes of pub the vault remains the vault. The use of the name Commercial and News Room is mostly confined to the middling-sized pubs, and in large ones the best rooms are invariably Lounges."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 90 - 91.

The use of Saloon Bar to descibe a public bar certainly is confusing. For me a Saloon Bar is the same as a lounge. Vaults I would recognice as a name for the public bar, though in the places I did most of my drinking - Nottinghamshire, Leeds and London - it wasn't used. Then again, Tap Room, for me, means public bar. That's how the phrase was used in Leeds. All very confusing, isn't it?

But let's continue.

"The following is a complete list of all the written usages for pub rooms that we have observed:

Vault — Vault, Public Bar, Saloon Bar.
Tap Room — News Room, Commercial Room.
Best Room — Music Room, Concert Room, Lounge, Parlour, Saloon, Commercial Room, Snug.

The original of the term "vault" is obscure. The New English Dictionary which gives considerable space to unusual and archaic usages of the word, such as an obscure seventeenth century writer who puts it in a context where it means an outside lavatory, simply fails to mention its current pub usage; considering it is a term in the daily vocabulary of millions in the North it is an indication of the ignorance of the pub in non-pub-going circles. Certainly the term must have originally been connected with its usage for the cellar. Wine bars in the south, where the term vault is not in use for the public bar, are often called wine vaults. But we have not been able to find any direct evidence of how its present pub usage came about. In this connection there is an interesting Worktown story that under the vault of the Man and Scythe, oldest pub, is a secret passage running to the Parish Church (200 yards). Now bricked up, it serves as a myth-umbilical between church and pub. That the church was once Publican Number One is beyond question. It is certain, therefore, that the pub has directly acquired religious associations. The whole set-up of the vault, the bar severing the landlord from the ordinary folk, the arrangements of bottles on the shelves, the often ornate windows, the beer-engine handles (generally three or four) sticking up like tapered candles, the shortly-to-be-described rituals of toasting, rounds, glass-swiggling—have much in common with forms of religious rite and invocation. The intricate build-up of pub rooms around the exclusive landlord sections is faintly reminiscent of the Catholic Church. And in each you come to the dividing-line between minister and ministered-to for alcoholic liquor.

The function of these different types of rooms cannot be understood until we have considered the types and habits of the drinkers that frequent them. Bearing this in mind we will make the following summing up:

VAULT and TAPROOM, tabu to women, patronized only by working class drinkers, form one group of rooms, in contradistinction to the

BEST ROOMS (lounge, parlour, etc.) where beer costs a penny a pint more, women are permitted.

THE VAULT is distinguished by the presence of THE BAR COUNTER.

THE TAPROOM, which has the same class of custom, is more of a club and games room.

Amongst best rooms the term LOUNGE is usually applied to the best rooms of the bigger pubs, PARLOUR to those of smaller ones. From now on, the former term will be used to cover all best rooms."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 92 - 94.

Now wasn't that fascinating? It comes as no surprise to me that the compilers of the New English Dictionary didn't bother to record northern working class vocabulary. They were probably oblivious to its existence and, even if they had noticed it, wouldn't have included it. I'd be interested in learning the etymology of the word. Thanks to class bias, it may prove difficult to uncover.

I'd never thought to draw parallels between the rituals of pubs and those of the catholic church. On reflection, it seems pretty obvious. But isn't everything once it's been explained? Handpumps like church candles. Love that image.

Once again, the book sheds its supposed cloak of anonymity by naming the oldest pub in town, the Man and Scythe. (Actually it's called Ye Olde Man and Scythe.) Which makes it a piece of piss to identify the town as Bolton. The pub still exists. I wonder when they last brewed their own beer? Probably quite a while ago. Halliwell's (whose name appears on the pub) were bought by Magee Marshall in 1910.

It's funny how you get odd combinations of events. The vault being men-only for example. I remember once seeing a "men only" sign on the door of a public bar. It was in Halifax in 1979. By then it was an anachronism, as equality legislation had made men-only rooms illegal several years before. Removing the possibility of keeping the public bar men only must have made knocking pubs through into a single room easier to implement. One less reason for keeping separate rooms.

Lots more to come from this particular pit of material. It won't be mined out for years yet.

Pub nicknames

You guessed it. We're still in 1930's Bolton analysing pub names. This time it's informal names.

Pub nicknames are funny things. Some are blindingly obvious. Others are so obscure no-one remembers their origin. It seems as if this was just as true in pre-war Bolton.

"Besides the official names, many pubs have nick-names. These are of several sorts. Here are some:

The Greyhound — Clem Dug. (Hungry Dog)
The Great Eastern — The Ship
The Grey Mare — Kicking Donkey (ref. to sign on window)
The Golden Lion—Brass Cat.

Others are based on physical characteristics of the pub:

Wheatsheaf — Roundhouse.
Junction Inn — Smoother (i.e. smoothing iron, because of the shape of the pub).
School Hill Hotel — Skennin Door (squint door, two doors set on angle).
Stanley Arms — Sally up Steps (five steps up to the pub door, and landlady Sally).

Names of landlords and landladies are used also, and often remain after they have died or gone somewhere else:

The King's Arms — Balsher's or Balshaw's.
Nelson Hotel — Owd Flickie's.
Stanley Arms — Pat's Hotel (after ex-landlord Patterson).
British Queen — Owd Pomp's (landlord called Pomfret).
The Old Oak — Owd Kit's.

Other nick-names are connected with the type of customer:

Spakeaisy (this is where Irish labourers go).
Little Lad's pub (this was a place where little piecers drank).
Swine Lodge (people who don't drink there don't like those who do).
Pap Show (reputed to be on account of its being a midday drinking place for miners' wives who came into town with their babies in the afternoon, and would sit there suckling them. Observers have seen this done in local mining village pub).

Then there is the Dog and Kennel, a literary reference, the name by which everyone knows the Park View Inn, some people indeed thinking that that is its only name. Its origin is to be found in the local dialect writings of Allen Clarke, a Worktowner, who wrote, among other things, a number of funny dialogues based on the regulars of this pub, which he re-christened the Dog and Kennel.

Other names, such as the Romping Kicker, for the Nelson's Monument, the Red Rag for the Ninehouse Tavern, the Mop for the Weavers' Arms, Pig and Whistle for the Blue Boar, Sparrow's Tooth or the Boatrace for the Duke of Cambridge, and, most obscure, the War Office for the Recreation Tavern (centre of local pigeon racing, see Sport chapter), are the result of local jokes and allusions, mostly obscure now."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 89 - 90.

Pap Show - what a great name for a pub. I'll have to remember that for when I start building my chain of tied houses. Romping Kicker isn't bad, either. I can use that one, too. Now all I need to do is build a brewery. And get the money. That's quite important, having the dosh.

Magee's Coca Wine

Here's something that tumbled across my path as a result of my current Bolton obsession. A wacky poster from Bolton brewer Magee's.

Yes, it does. Read it carefully and you'll see that it does indeed contain coca. Alcohol, too, I suppose. At least they only gave the children a half or quarter glass.

Pub names

Bolton again, I'm afraid. This time a detailed analysis of pub names in the town.

The continued efforts of the authors to find quantifiable differences between full licences and beerhouses is commendable. Ultimately futile, I suspect, for reasons explained in the last post. The lines between the two had been blurred over time.

The majority of pub names have a suffix, such as the --- Arms, Hotel, Tavern. The following, compiled from a list of pub names, shows the relative frequency of these suffixes.

	Inns	Hotels	Arms	Taverns	No suffix
Beerhouses	32	16	50	11	60
Full licences	3	47	19	0	33
Total	35	63	69	11	93

Although the function of the full licence as a hotel has practically ceased, yet traces of it can be found in their names—over a third of full licences are called Hotels, and only 10 per cent of them Beerhouses. Similarly, the suffix "Inn" is almost restricted to beerhouses, only three full licences being so entitled. And eleven beerhouses, but no full licences, are called Taverns.

An article on "Inn Signs" in the Worktown Evening News, March 5th, 1937, says:

In every town or village one expects to find the names of old families perpetuated, and thus inn signs are a valuable adjunct to local history. Worktown's inns do not disappoint us. . . .

And the writer goes on to quote a number of Worktown pubs called after important families, such as the Earl of Bradford, Lord Derby, the Duke of Bridgwater, and so on. In fact, the majority of pub names are connected with dead Lords, Dukes, Kings, and members of the artistocracy. As well as the 69 pubs named the so-and-so Arms, there are 37 aristocratic names or names of kings. Queen Victoria is reflected in two pubs called The British Queen, one called the Victoria British Queen, and another The Old Original British Queen, as well as two Victoria Hotels and one Victoria Inn. Three pubs are called after Nelson, and there are others, such as The Gladstone and The Napier, named after historical national figures.

The next largest category of pub names, is that of animals, the names of which appear in 49 pub titles. Some of these, such as the Ox Noble and the Blue Boar, are connected with the crests of noble families; and indeed, the connection between the hundreds of Red Lions and Black Bulls found on pub signs all over the country, and the families whose totems these were, has Jong been severed.

We have seen, earlier, the reasons for this connection between the arms of the nobility and the arms of the pub; the later historical connection of the trade union movement with the pub has not, in Worktown, shown itself in the form of many trade names for pubs—there are only 14 of these, and it is interesting to note that 13 of them are beerhouses. Of Worktown's 75 Trade Union branches today, the 40 still meeting in pubs do so without exception in pubs without trade names.

Another type of name, of which there are only a few in Worktown, is the pub called after some place in the neighbourhood. Examples of this are: The Gas Works Tavern, Forge Tavern, Tramways Hotel, Cattle Market Hotel, The Four Factories (this one is now closed down), Recreation Tavern (opposite the Recreation Ground).
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 87 - 89.

Places called something Hotel that didn't offer accommodation. There's something that rings a bell. Newark had plenty of pubs with Hotel in the name that were really just pubs. I'd never associated the suffix with full licences.

I'd also never made the connection between the trade union movement and pubs with names like the Brass Moulders (a favourite pub of mine in Hunslet, when I lived in Leeds). I suppose it's obvious enough. Just never reall thought about it. Like so many other things.

That's sort of what the whole book "The Pub and the People" is about. Analysing everyday things which you usually pay little heed.

The 1930's pub

Yes, we're back in Bolton again. This time looking at the physical nature of the pub.

I'll be honest. I've never analysed pub architecture this way. Perhaps that's because the distinction between a fully-licensed pub and a beerhouse had become pretty irrelevant by the time I frequented pubs. As we saw the other day, by the 1970's there were only a couple of hundred beerhouses left. I can only remember drinking in one: The Roscoe in Leeds. I may well have drunk in others, but, only drinking beer at the time, I probably wouldn't have noticed.

The two types of pub gradually converged during the 20th century, as beerhouses were either closed or improved and given full licenses. WHich probably explains why the authors failed to find universal distinctions in the physical nature of the two types.

"A pub is a house. Certain exterior characteristics differentiate it from other houses. All pubs have displayed outside, painted on the wall or on a wooden sign, the name of the brewers to whom they belong. Most, but not all, also have the name of the pub itself similarly displayed. Many have on the windows either painted or engraved the name of the room within or the brewer's name. And many have fixed on either side of the main entrance rectangular tablets with the brewer's name on them. There is no specific pub architectural style. Though false pilasters, porticoes and other stucco neo-classical trimmings are common, many pubs do not have these, and are simply ordinary houses.

The following table is the result of an analysis of the frontages of 12 pubs, 6 of them beerhouses (A) and 3 each of large (B) and small (C) full licences:

Characteristic	A	B	C	Total
Sign with pub name	5	3	3	11
"       "     brewer's name	6	3	3	12
"       "     both	5	3	3	11
Tablets on door	2	1	2	5
Name of room on windows	6	1	1	8
Name of brewer on windows	-	-	1	1

Pub signs have never been universal in Worktown; tendency to general decline was recently counteracted by a special exhibition in London, signs by R.A.'s and speech by the Chairman of Whitbread's Ltd., who said:

"Expression in art must be within reach of the ordinary fellow. If this is so it will meet with an enthusiastic and ready response. Art for art's sake is a noble ideal but it must not be allowed to develop into a selfish thing which does not touch the hearts and emotions of the ordinary fellow"—(News Chronicle 7.4.38).

In Worktown the pub facade offers no art-appeal. The only feature common to all is the brewer's name. Tablets on the door generally denote a higher class of pub, and name of rooms on windows a beerhouse. More than half the Worktown pubs are beerhouses ; there are 19 beerhouses licensed to sell wines; and the rest are fully licensed. This may seem to correspond to the Inn-Tavern-Beerhouse trinity. In fact it does not. Though 35 of the pubs are called Inns, and 63 hotels, only 6 are listed in the directory as providing accommodation. A tour of 19 pubs, of all kinds, asking for accommodation, proved fruitless. The ancient function of the Inn as a place for people to stay at has died away. The ordinary Worktown pub, whatever its title, is not an Inn or Hotel.

All large pubs (i.e. with 5 or more rooms and/or seating accommodation of 150 or more) are full licences; but all full licences are not large pubs, and as far as size, architecture, and general appearance, some small full licences are indistinguishable from beerhouses. The beerhouse licensed to sell wines has a separate legal status, but this status is not reflected in any differentiation in the pub itself (beyond, of course, the fact that you can buy a glass of wine in it)."
"The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 86 - 87.

The names of rooms on the windows signifies a beerhouse? That's an interesting claim. It was pretty common in the pubs I drank in during the 1970's. Common in all types of pubs, backstreet locals and gin palaces. Maybe Bolton was different.

Now there's a funny thing. All 12 pubs had the name of the brewer on a sign. But only 11 had the name of the pub. Shows where the priority lay: in identifying the brewer, not the name of the pub. I can remember coming across the opposite in Salford in the 1980's. I cam across a pub with no brewery name on the outside and no pump clips. I had to lean over the bar and peer at the bottles beer to work out that it was a Holt's pub.

One last quote before I finish:

"The licensing laws of 1869, already referred to, besides restricting the number of pubs, presumably resulted in their gradual improvement, since the consumption of drink went on increasing, which meant that a smaller number of landlords were doing better business.

From this date onwards all types of pubs were "institutionalized". Our knowledge of what the inside of pubs were like at this time must be gathered from contemporary fiction. Dickens' descriptions in Barnaby Rudge and other works give us a picture that is not very different in essentials from most present-day pubs. The greatest change must have been brought about by the introduction of the beer engine (on which historical data is obscure), which, besides tending to lower the quality of the beer, made it possible for the landlord to keep his barrels all in the cellar, away from the bar, and so serve a larger number of drinkers from a smaller space and with a smaller staff. "The Pub and the People" by Mass Observation, 1943 (reprinted 1987), pages 85 - 86."

I'm trying to work out why beer engines would have caused beer quality to get worse. Surely keeping the beer in a cool cellar rather than behind the bar would have had the opposite effect?

I've more, yes it's true, more about 1930's Bolton pubs to come.