Bass Charrington

The company was formed in 1967 by the merger of Charrington United Breweries and Bass Mitchells & Butlers.  Creating the largest brewing group in the UK. A position it would retain until it eventually sold up.

They started the decade with a bewildering array of breweries, some quite small and many in close proximity to each other. For example, in the West Midlands and Northwest England. Heavy pruning ensued.

Who knows what Bass Charrington could have achieved, if they hadn’t been led by H Alan Walker, a domineering lunatic with no knowledge of the brewing industry? Despite his best efforts, the company became the biggest brewer in the UK and one of the largest in the world. In the hands of someone more competent, they could only have been more successful.

The chairman’s insane plan was to have just two breweries, Cape Hill in Birmingham and the new brewery in Runcorn serving the whole of the UK.  Which led them to closing most of their breweries. Though, when they discovered Runcorn couldn’t brew acceptable versions of some of their Northern brands, breweries such as Stones in Sheffield and the Tower Brewery in Tadcaster were reprieved.

They were one of the worst in terms of pub vandalism. When there was a pub swap in the 1980s, they took over the Little Park from Tetley. It was a lovely little pub, with two distinct rooms. Bass almost immediately fucked it up, knocking it through into a single room. Totally ruining the atmosphere.


Bass
The renowned Burton Pale Ale brewery of the 19th century, the glory days of Bass were well over after WW II. Once the largest brewery in England, its beers remained nationally available, making it a tempting target for the ambitious M&B. Even though their tied house estate was quite small.

Despite coming first in the company name, Bass had never been one of the driving forces of the conglomerate. Having lost their independence before the formation of Bass Charrington. Their name remained prominent on account of its historic resonance. Though the company could have promoted the brand better

Charrington
A classic London Ale brewery, Charrington’s directors seem to have been naïve about what joining the Bass Charrington collective entailed. Hoping for a shiny new plant just outside London, they were greatly disappointed when the replacement for their East End brewery was Cape Hill in Birmingham.

Cape Hill
The original Mitchell & Butler brewery in Birmingham. And, for a while, the largest cask brewery in the world. I can’t say I was that keen on their cask beer. Brew XI was a crap, sweet excuse of a Bitter. The Mild was OK. But no better than that. When in Birmingham, I much preferred Ansells Mild.

Springfield
One of the group’s three breweries in the West Midlands. They brewed Dunkirk Pale Ale and Springfield Bitter. Both lovely, delicate Bitters. Way better than Brew XI. So, obviously, it was closed and the beers discontinued, though Springfield Bitter was brewed at Cape Hill for a while.

Highgate
Bass Charrington had a weird variation in the size of their breweries. Highgate in Walsall being very much at the small end. And even weirder, as their only product was a Mild Ale.

It had been scheduled for closure around the start of WW II, but was kept open as each brewery was allocated a certain quantity of materials based on their pre-war usage. Had the brewery closed, M & B would have missed out on the ingredients. In the end, it outlasted all the other former M & B breweries, including Cape Hill.

Tadcaster
It’s really odd how all three Tadcaster breweries have managed to survive. There were three substantial breweries in the town in the 1970s. And there are still three now. Back then, they were Sam Smiths, John Smiths and what was the former Tower Brewery, owned by Bass.

I can’t say that I cared for its beers. What was the Bitter? Brew X? Yes, that was it. Can’t ever remember trying it. I usually stuck to Mild, which came in the form of XXXX. A bit thin and insipid. Not a patch on Tetley Mild.

Stones
William Stones was a successful Sheffield Brewery, but owing to the large spread in ownership of their shares, they feared a hostile takeover. For a while they managed to play their two potential suitors – Charrington United and Bass M & B – off against each other. Until the two merged in 1967 to form Bass Charrington. And gobbled up Stones.

Their Bitter, which was very pale, along the lines of Boddington, had a strong local following and was a pretty decent pint. At least in the early years. It caused the company lots of problems. They wanted to close it, but attempts to replicate it at Runcorn were a dismal failure and the Sheffield brewery had to stay open.

Hope & Anchor
Another Sheffield brewery, but one which played a weird role in the formation of Bass Charrington.

In the 1950s, they were trying to market their Jubilee Stout to Canada. They came to an agreement with Canadian brewery owner Eddie Taylor. He would brew Jubilee Stout and in return Hope & Anchor would brew Black Label in the UK.   It was a deal which, eventually, gifted one of the UK’s most popular Lagers to Bass Charrington.

This transaction prompted Taylor to take a closer look at the UK brewing industry. And soon he was in the UK trying to put together a national brewery group. Just as he had done in Canada. And eventually led to the creation of the UK’s largest brewing company, Bass Charrington.

In 1960, it merged with Hammonds United Breweries and had started on one of the paths which would lead to Bass Charrington. Surprisingly, given the company’s rigorous pruning of its breweries, it didn’t close until 1994.

Tennent
Home of Glasgow’s – and Scotland’s – favourite Lager. Tennent got into the Lager game very early, in 1885, importing Germans to build them a suitable brew house, which opened in 1889. Unlike most who got into the Lager game in the 19th century, they were able to make a fist of it.

The brewery was lucky that Lager took off much earlier in Scotland than in England. Despite only being available in Scotland and Northern Ireland, by 1970 Tennents was one of the best-selling Lagers in the UK. Only Harp, a cooperative beer of several large brewers, outsold it.

Welsh Brewers
Formerly Hancock, which was a major player in South Wales before falling into Bass Charrington’s hands.

Running Bass Charrington (part two)

More in the inimitable management style of H Alan Walker (HAW). When Bass M & B merged with Charrington United Breweries in 1967, Walker became its managing director and chairman, roles he had held at Bass M & B. The two halves of the new company had very different management approaches.

It led to a clash of cultures, in which authoritarianism easily triumphed under the leadership of HAW; all at M&B, and later BM&B [Bass M & B], including his fellow directors, had become used to his absolute authority and commanding style and offered no opposition. HAW once said "The smaller the brewery, the bigger the prima donna", in reference to the human problems arising when taking over companies. It was a comment too upon himself, as to his perception of those problems; his strength was also his weakness.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 103.

Walker sounds like a crazed narcissist in this next section.

Those present at the meeting were familiar with his views on the qualities of leadership, the principles of organisation, the ability to make and take the right decisions, and so on, as from time to time HAW put his thoughts into print and circulated them to senior employees as advised reading, and to others as recommended study; not bound up in little red covers, of course, but handed out on single sheets (see Appendix C). He referred to these and then began in earnest.

He outlined the essentials of his master plan - only two breweries, a London depot, overnight shuttle trains, the new brewery itself. He spoke of the benefits to be derived from his plan, in the manner of one conferring a privilege. He dismissed the fears of those about to lose their own regional beers, as having the petty-mindedness of provincials, men of limited faith and small vision.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, pages 107 - 108.

All sounds pretty reasonable, doesn't it?

The Runcorn project was already becoming a graven image. He went on about the advantages of huge production in new breweries, the advance of technology, the necessity for all present to get out into the market place and sell the beers. He announced the formation of a committee, made up of the company enthusiasts for his ideas, to be called the 1984 Committee, which would attempt to predict the manufacturing position of BC at that date, and in the meantime would organise to attain the decided goals. He wound up by saying there had been enough discussion within BC on the plan and the bellyaching had got to stop, as it would go ahead. He took a dim view of any more objection. He then asked if anybody had anything to say. They had not; the front row of his fellow directors was as silent as the grave whilst the rest of us were trying to memorise and digest what had been said. No note-taking had been allowed. Discretion kept us quiet; burgeoning anxieties were making us thoughtful.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 108.

"1984 Committee"? How creepy can you get? Was that deliberate or just ignorant? I suspect the latter. I mean, he doesn't sound like the sort of man you'd point out an error to. An error of his own, I mean.

Running Bass Charrington

Today I'm going to publish some excerpts from Anthony Avis's wonderful memoir: "The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990"

They all concern H Alan Walker (HAW), the first chairman of Bass Charrington. And someone with a rather creepily dictatorial management style. The scheme in question here is the new brewery in Runcorn.

In the run up to the introduction of this scheme. HAW had called a three line whip type of meeting at his London headquarters for all senior executives, to give his explanation of the grand scheme, and to reiterate his threat to sack personally anyone who queried it. The MD of BCN, Vernon Parker, could not attend, as he was ill, so I went in his place. I am not certain to this day if he was really ill or chose not to go, as he was in disfavour, quite unfairly, for raising profits but not volume barrelage, just when the flavour of the month with HAW was barrelage. Those who had been called assembled on the first floor of the Grosvenor Gardens house, sitting in rows, awaiting the arrival of the Great Man, like nervous schoolchildren. His habit was to make dramatic, stage effect, entries to this sort of meeting. His headquarters staff of young men having suitably corralled those attending, and warmed them up, television audience style, then stood around the edges of the room like ushers or warders. Those of the main board working directors involved in the brewery operations were also there, in the front seats, waiting - no question of them entering with the Great Man in a show of unity. Silence having descended on the meeting, there was a signal from the personal assistant by the staircase, and HAW descended from his second floor rooms, preceded by his butler who saw him seated, and then left. We all waited expectantly and nervously; if the intention had been to create such an atmosphere it had succeeded.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

He sounds like a right twat. Who gets seated by their butler at a business meeting? It's clear that Mr. Walker was showing, through the whole forma=t of the meeting, that no dissent was going to be allowed.

This is really the way to get people to open up and give you their honest opinion.

He began by strictly warning all present that nothing was to be spoken outside as to what was said inside the meeting, and with that he glared round the room. This gesture could be unnerving, as he had an aggressive manner, his rubicund face topped with scanty white hair, projecting itself like a dart at the listener; to meet his gaze was to be reminded of the fate of those who looked into the eyes of Medusa. He had protruding eyes. He rarely laughed, but occasionally smiled thinly; his voice had a guttural quality. Conviviality was not what he set out to achieve when dealing with management, staff and employees.
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

Sounds like a terrible boss to work for. Unless you were a total sycophant. In which case, it would have been great.

Carlsberg vs the Big Six

It may be hard to believe now, but the Big Six, in their prime during the 1970s, were some of the largest brewing groups in the world. But, while large breweries on the continent, such as Carlsberg and Heineken have continued to grow, the UK's biggest breweries all fell by the wayside.

When Watney Mann were making deals with Carlsberg in the early 1970s, they were by far the larger brewery of the two. At least in terms of the quantity of beer produced.

The figures are from slightly different dates, Carlsberg being for 1969 and Watney and Bass Charrington from 1976. Even Watney, one of the smallest of the Big Six, produced more than double as much as Carlsberg. Which must have had an impact on the relations between the two. I've included Bass Charrington, the largest of the Big Six, for comparison.

So where did it go wrong for the big UK brewers? They didn't expand internationally. Or at least not as much and not as successfully. Obviously, there wasn't quite the incentive for this as there was for brewers like Carlsberg and Heineken, whose home markets were much smaller. 

Carlsberg vs the Big Six
	hl	barrels
Denmark consumption	4,830,000	2,951,256
Total Carlsberg	3,571,000	2,181,974
Carlsberg exports	825,000	504,096
Carlsberg domestic	2,746,000	1,677,877
% Carlsberg domestic	56.85%
Bass	12,831,060	7,840,111
Watney	7,698,636	4,704,067
Source:
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, April 1970, page 75.
“The Brewing Industry, a Guide to Historical Records” by Lesley Hammons & Alison Turton.

Bass Charrington's £20m. brewery project

More about the wonderful Runcorn brewery. This time it's a puff piece in the Brewers' Guardian.

It's rather typical of the technocrat tone of the publication at the time. As sort of Hooray for Everything approach

"Bass Charrington's £20m. brewery project
As can be seen from the above scale model, a feature of Bass Charrington's proposed £20m. brewery on a 100-acre site at Runcorn New Town, Cheshire, is that much of the production plant will be in the open air. At this stage, the company are not disclosing any technical details of the project, but it is thought likely that there will be a system of batch wort production and a degree continuous fermentation.

The practice of placing some of the plant outside the brewery walls follows similar recent moves at the Beamish & Crawford brewery in Cork and the Cornbrook Brewery, Manchester, where they have outside fermenters. Last year a completely exposed brewhouse at the Tennent Caledonian Brewery in Glasgow also went into production.

Bass Charrington's announcement follows the completion of a survey into the, brewing, packaging and distribution requirements the company are likely to be facing in the l970's and 1980’s."
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 33.

This open-air shit seems to have been an obsession of Bass Charrington.I can understand why you'd put conical fermenters outside, especially the huge ones. But why the hell would you put the brewhouse outside? This is the UK. Where rain isn't totally unknown. Wouldn't it just be a right pain in the arse for the brewing staff?

"The new brewery, along with packaging and kegging facilities should come into production in 1972-73. It will have an annual capacity of 2.5 million barrels and will employ approximately 1,250 people. When completed it will be Europe’s largest single unit and it will be capable of expansion if this should prove necessary at some later date.

Stone & Webster in London are producing the engineering design, carrying out the purchasing and supervising construction of the development which will use processes specified bv Bass Charrington. Stone & Webster have been working as consultants with Bass Charrington during the planning stages and engineering design work has already been started by them."
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 33. 

It actually opened in 1974. And initially employed 500. Which turned out to be far too many. Eventually it was staffed by just 150.

This next bit is rather disingenuous. Because the medium-term plan was to close all their breweries in England and Wales, other than Runcorn and Cape Hill. It looks like bottling and canning was already being concentrated at Runcorn in anticipation of this.

"Once the new brewery comes into operation a number of existing plants in the Group will be closed during 1972-73. The breweries affected are Barrow, Blackpool, Burnley, Liverpool, Manchester, Aberbeeg, Fernvale and Mile End. The Cannon brewery at Sheffield may also be closed.

Bottling will cease at Tadcaster and Wolverhampton; bottling and canning will cease at Cape Hill: and bottling and kegging will cease at Cardiff, but all these units will continue to brew. The bottling, kegging and canning plant at Tottenham will also close as will the bottling plant at Yeovil.

As a result of this reorganisation Bass Charrington breweries in England and Wales will, after the new brewers has come into production, be sited at: Runcorn; Tadcaster; Sheffield; Burton; Birmingham; Cardiff; Wolverhampton. The reorganisation will not affect Bass Charrington's operations in Scotland, Northern Ireland and the Irish Republic."
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 33.

They seem to have forgotten about one English brewery: Highgate in Walsall. Or was it jsut too small to be worth mentioning? Never heard of Fernvale? Neither had I. It was in South Wales, apparently. Aberbeeg was the home of Webbs, another brewery from South Wales that I've never come across before. Probably because it was so small.

When branding fails

Marketing releases are often hilarous when looked at with hindsight. Like Bass's new regional Bitter for Yorkshire. Which tried to build a nrew brand from a previous success.

"Bass launch new “regional” bitter
Despite the continuing disappearance of many local brews, one of the country’s largest brewing groups, Bass Charrington Ltd., is showing its awareness of regional palate preferences by the introduction of beers suited to a particular area.

Latest beer in this context is Brew Ten, which has been launched in the North-East and is advertised as being “specially brewed for the men of the North by Bass".

Described as a medium-priced draught bitter — it has a recommended public bar price of 2s. 2d. per pint — Brew Ten follows on from the success Bass Charrington have had in the Midlands with their Brew XI.

A major programme of television, Press and poster advertising starting this month has been planned by Bass Charrington to support the launch of Brew Ten."
Brewers' Guardian, Volume 99, May 1970, page 49.

Spoiler here: Brew XI was shit. A sweetish beer sometimes likened more to a Pale Mild than a Bitter. And Brew Ten? That was even worse. The success of Brew XI might not have totally been on its own merits.

"Brew XI draught beer took the Midlands by storm and was a genuine success; of course, that success was helped along by strenuous statements that it was successful - like a government minister justifying his policies - and the fact that it was replacing the existing M&B brands which had a ready-made market."
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 104.

Picking a lower number for the new beer possibly wasn't the brightest idea.

"As part of the same thought process the Tadcaster Brewery had been allocated X, by which to call its main draught beer; and that too was a failure in marketing terms - the Yorkshire drinking public were convinced they were being sold weaker beer than the Midlands, since X was less than XI; so it was dropped as a brand name."
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 107.

A top-down approach always works so well.

More Mablethorpe memories

There were two Bass Charrington pubs in town. The Eagle, a substantial detached Victorian building a bit outside the centre. I went in there at least once with my brother. Pretty sure they had no cask. As it’s the one and only time I drank Bass No. 1.

Just down the road, towards the seafront, was a rather good chippy. With an attached fish restaurant. A place where they served the chippy food, but on china with proper cutlery, accompanied by white sliced bread spread thinly with margarine and mugs of tea. It’s the only type of restaurant I’d eaten in before going to university.

The other Bass house was on the High Street. The Book in Hand. A pub whose narrow frontage shouted: fuck off, you’re not welcome. Just looking at it, you knew the atmosphere was shit, the beer was shit, the people were shit. They’d think you were a little shit and quite possibly kick the shit out of you.

I never visited it, oddly.

My memories are of walking past and being met by a waft of warm air. Caressing on the cheek but a frontal assault on the nose. A mixture of stale beer, fag smoke and other assorted odours I don’t care to think about too much. OK, it was much like any pub smelt at the time. Just in a more concentrated form. Perhaps on account of the narrow frontage not offering the foul air many routes of escape.

Just over the road was the was the far more salubrious Louth Hotel, a large and airy Home Ales house. In their plain, no-nonsense house style. But with cask Mild and Bitter served, as almost always in Home pubs, by electric pumps. The pubs could open crazily early – 10:00. And the Louth always seemed to do a surprisingly good trade in the two hours before midday. The democratically-priced beer might have been the key.

Much to my regret, unlike Skegness, Mablethorpe had no Shipstones pub.

Runcorn mega-keggery

The classic idiotically-conceived mega-brewery. Thought up by a chairman without brewing experience (who believed any beer could be brewed anywhere) and constructed by chemical engineers. How could it possibly have gone wrong?

The idea was that the whole of England and Wales would be served by just two breweries: Cape Hill and Runcorn. Beer brewed in Runcorn would be shipped by train to a depot in Stratford, East London. The train would later return to Runcorn with empties.

It was a personal project of H Alan Walker, chairman and chief executive of Bass Charrington. A man with, to put it mildly, a rather autocratic management style. Despite many in the company having misgivings about the plans, no dissent was allowed. The chairman made it very clear than anyone raising objections would be sacked.

After some delays, the brewery opened in 1974. With all the company’s breweries in Lancashire closing as well as the Charrington brewery in Mile End to make way for it. For some reason, the packaging plant was built far away from the brew house meaning beer had to be moved between the two through a very long pipe. Not exactly an efficient way of operating.

At the time, Bass Charrington was weirdly keen on having most of the brewing kit outdoors. Not just conical fermenters, but even the brewhouse itself. Something they had already done at Tennent’s Wellpark Brewery in Glasgow.

As soon as the brewery opened, it ran into problems. On the one hand, it struggled to replicate the beers from the existing breweries. And on the other, it had terrible industrial relations, leading to repeated strikes.

CAMRA weren’t great fans, as the brewery produced no cask beer. And had entailed the closure of a string of regional breweries: Barrow, Blackpool, Burnley, Liverpool, Manchester, Aberbeeg, Fernvale and Mile End. It left the group with no brewery further south than Birmingham.  

Eventually, they did manage to sort out the problems at the brewery, albeit too late:

"The beer was improved by rebuilding the brewery along orthodox lines, and the beer became acceptable for what it was, and not a pretence of being something else. Just as everything was going quite well the depression in the brewery trade descended, and there was too much brewing and canning capacity."
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 109.

The brewery closed in 1993. Fewer than 20 years after first coming onstream. 

London Bitter in 1971

How much more of this 1970s fun will we have? Loads more. Unless, of course, I get bored or distracted. Something that is quite likely.

I genuinely didn't start this with the intention of writing a book on the 1970s. However, I've assembled so much material it seems a waste not to. It will follow on from where "Austerity!" ends. Not sure when I'll publish it. Possibly as a "quick" book next year. If other things don't get in the way.

One difference from my other books in the series will be the inclusion of personal memories. Quite a few of which I've already collected. Though I'll be delighted if you send in some more. They really help conjure up the atmosphere of the period.

Right. Back to today's real topic: Bitters brewed in London.

First, something about the breweries. All are members of the Big Six, other than Youngs. Which may partly explain the high prices and poor value.

The average price, at 15.3p is just shy of 2p per pint more than Northern Bitters. Even though the average OG is a bit higher, the value is worse both in terms of OG and ABV. A couple are particularly poor value: Watneys Red Barrel and Charrington Crown Bitter. Both costing 16p for a beer of only around average strength.

The best value beer (in terms of OG) is also from Charrington, in the form of their Best Bitter. Which is considerably stronger than Crown Bitter, but 1p per pint cheaper. It doesn't make any sense. Unless Crown Bitter was keg and Best Bitter cask. I love the way you had to pay a premium to drink inferior beer.

Attenuation isn't great, averaging just short of 75%. Lower than all the other regions we've looked at so far. And that's with Youngs Special dragging up the average with its 85% attenuation. Which leaves that beer best value in terms of ABV. For London. It's far short of the best value from other regions.

Deserving special mention is Watneys Starbright in combining both shit value for money and being barely intoxicating at under 3% ABV. I'm sure it tasted lovely, too. 

London Bitter in 1971
Brewer	Beer	Price per pint (p)	º gravity per p	% ABV per p	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation
Watney	Starlight	14	2.32	0.21	1032.5	1009.9	2.93	69.69%
Watney	Red Barrel	16	2.29	0.21	1036.6	1010.4	3.39	71.58%
Watney	Special Bitter	15	2.53	0.23	1037.9	1011.1	3.47	70.71%
Whitbread	Tankard	16	2.38	0.22	1038	1010.4	3.58	72.63%
Charrington	Crown Bitter	16	2.26	0.22	1036.1	1008.4	3.59	76.73%
Courage	Tavern Keg	14	2.59	0.27	1036.2	1007	3.80	80.66%
Charrington	Best Bitter	15	2.88	0.26	1043.2	1013.4	3.86	68.98%
Young	Special Bitter	16	2.79	0.31	1044.6	1006.4	4.98	85.65%
Average		15.3	2.50	0.24	1038.1	1009.6	3.70	74.58%
Source:
Sunday Mirror - Sunday 21 March 1971, page 25.

London IPA after WW II

Just when you thought things couldn’t get any more confusing with IPA, along comes some post-war weirdness.

Post-war, another type of IPA seems to have popped up. A Best Bitter strength draught beer. Though weedy bottled versions of a little over 3% ABV were still common.

The colour is a bit darker than the other types of IPA. And more typical of a draught Best Bitter.

Charrington’s post-war IPA was about a similar strength to their pre-war PA. Which by 1930 was just 1034º.  It looks like one of the stronger Bitters introduced after the end of the war when things were picking up. Rather than bump up the strength of their standard Pale Ales, brewers introduced new beers. Things like Fullers London Pride and Young’s Special.

In a London context, using IPA for such beers was dead confusing. As it was already established as the term for a weak bottled beer. Though it doesn’t seem to have perturbed drinkers much. Back then, styles didn’t mean much. And style guidelines didn’t exist.

I drank Charrington IPA myself often enough in the 1970s. At the time, I didn’t really think anything of the name IPA. It just seemed like a Best Bitter. Though its gravity by then had dropped below 1040º. In the 1970s, it was probably the best-selling IPA in the UK. No longer brewed in London, though. By then it had been moved up to Cape Hill after the closure of Charrington’s Anchor Brewery on Mile End Road.

John Courage was a posh bottled beer. Along the lines of Ben Truman. Which was also originally defined as an IPA, but by the 1950s was called simply a Pale Ale. As I’ve already

Whitbread beers were bottled export beers. The Whitbread one, I’m guessing was intended for Belgium. Which is where their principal export market was. Where it was sold as Pale Ale. Nothing confusing there.

London Strong IPA after WW II
Year	Brewer	Beer	Price per pint (d)	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	colour
1950	Charrington	IPA	18	1043.8	1009.4	4.47	78.54%	29
1954	Charrington	IPA	19	1046.7	1008	5.04	82.87%	27
1954	Courage	John Courage IPA	28	1050.4	1011.2	5.10	77.78%	20
1954	Mann Crossman	IPA	20	1044	1009.8	4.45	77.73%	25
1954	Mann Crossman	IPA	20	1044	1011.6	4.20	73.64%	26
1948	Whitbread	Ex IPA		1046.8	1013.0	4.47	72.22%	23
	Average		21	1046.0	1010.5	4.62	77.13%	25
Source:
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002.

Cellarmanship in the 1920s (part two)

Continuing our look at cellar practices in the early 1920s, here's something that took me by surprise: tank beer.

I was quite shocked that it was enough of a thing in 1922 to even get a mention. Usually the start of brewery conditioned draught beer is attributed to Watney's in the 1930s. While that might have been the first keg beer produced in the UK, it was by no means the first brewery-conditioned draught.

Brewery conditioned beer had been around since the 1890s, but exclusively in bottled form. UK brewers picked up the technique of producing what they called chilled and carbonated beer from their American colleagues. This new type of non-deposit beer was a big hit and was vital to the sudden growth in bottled beer around 1900.

In his autobigraphy, "Seventy Rolling Years" Sydney Nevile mentions Worthington's attempts to introduce brewery-conditioned draught beer before WW I. These ended in failure, due to resistance from drinkers. They weren't keen on the flavour of this new type of beer and Worthington was forced to abandon the experiment.

But that clearly wasn't the end of alternatives to cask-conditioned beer.

"In London and some of the large towns beer is supplied through a tube, or hose, from a tank cart or motor into a receiver. This beer is suitable only for a quick sale, say forty-eight hours,1 and is ready to sell at once, is always bright and clear to the last drop, and has no deposit.

Thus the paraphernalia connected with barrels, and the care requisite in the treatment of beer in barrels, are avoided.

This beer is known as carbonated ale, and no waste ought to occur.

Beer so brewed is as good on the day it is received as it will ever be, and, no doubt, saves a great deal of labour, anxiety, and care, but these chilled and filtered beers, both in cask and bottle, have not the keeping qualities of beer naturally conditioned.

They are, however, so much limited to a few areas, that we must learn also all about the treatment of beers in cask.

1 Forty-eight hours is not to be taken as the limit of time of the keeping of carbonated ale, but it is brewed for quick consumption."
"The Art and Practice of Innkeeping" by Alexander Francis Part, published by Heinemann London, 1922, pages 198 - 199.

Reading between the lines, it's clear that the author wasn't a fan of tank beer.

The only brewery I can think of that was big on tanl beer WW II was the Hull Brewery. WHo were very early in going over to ceramic cellar tanks in its pubs. Their beer caused some fairly heated discussions within CAMRA as to whether it counted as Real Ale or not.

Martyn Cornell identifies Watney as the first brewery in the UK to use cellar tanks, starting in 1913. Followed in the early 1920s by Charrington and the Hull brewery.

Legally defining Milk Stout (part two)

It's now time to hear from some Milk Stout drinkers. And to learn what they think makes a Milk Stout.

They son't seem to have been entirely sure what Milk Stout was, other than that they liked it.

"LOCAL WITNESSES.
Mr. John Lawrence, 6. Victoria-terrace. Seabrook, Hythe, stated that he was a member of a Bowling Club.

Mr. Colefax: Are you acquainted with milk stout? — Yes.

Have you taken it for time? — About two years.

Do you know whether it has a sale in the Bowls Club at Hythe? - Yes it has.

Have you heard it ordered there? —Yes.
What do they ask for? — Milk stout.

What you understand by milk stout? - Some understand that it stout brewed from carbohydrate of sugar - sugar of milk.

Mr. Kirby: That is what you understand from the advertisements? — Yes.

Do you have a very distinct idea of what a carbohydrate is? — No, I haven’t.

I thought not. Do you know how much of the carbohydrate of sugar there must be in it? — No.

Mr. William Henry Banghnm, master printer, of 6. Victoria-road, Folkestone, said he was acquainted with milk stout, and had drunk it.

Mr. Colefax: What you undestand by it? — I understand that there is an extract of milk in it and that, therefore, it is different  from other stout.

You have drunk it and found different from ordinary stout? — Yes, different altogether.

When have you taken it?— In the house, and I also have it when out in the evenings.

You can get it in the holels, and so forth? -Yes.

What do you ask for? — A bottle of milk stout.

Mr. Kirby : Mackeson's are Hythe brewers, are they not, and have a very good trade in Folkestone and around, and make a point of pushing their milk stout in the district?— I believe so."
Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald - Saturday 23 December 1911, page 5.

It seems that Milk Stout drinkers, though they were aware some milk product was in their favourite drink, weren't excatly sure what it was.

"OTHER EVIDENCE.
Mr. Hugh Spencer Charrington, one the Directors of Charrington and Co., Ltd., brewers, Burton-on-Trent, said that they had been brewing milk stout since August, being the holders of sub-license. The stout contained nine pounds of lactose in each thirty-six gallon barrel. He believed the present market price of lactose was about £80 per ton.

Mr. O'Donnell Grimshaw, Manager and of the Lion Brewery, Lambeth, gave similar evidence with respect to the quantity of lactose put in the milk stout, which his Company had brewed since June July of last year. The Company had spent about £2,000 in advertising it.

Mr. Kirby: You have been careful explain on all your labels and advertisements exactly what milk element your stout contains? — Yes.

Have you been advised that you could not legally call it milk stout without qualifying words? — I don’t think I have been advised that.

Do you think it would be honest to describe your compound milk stout without qualifying the words? — No, it does not contain milk pure and simple.

Mr. Phillip Winterton, Secretary of Ansell Brewery, Aston, Birmingham, and Mr Maurice Stratton, Assistant Manager of the Aston Gate Brewery, Ltd.. Bristol, also gave evidence as to brewing milk stout.

Mr. A. C. Chapman, consulting and analytical chemist, stated that he had been unable to trace evidence of lactose in defendant’s milk stout. His analysis would disclose lactose in stout if it were not in less proportion than half a pound to thirty-six gallons. He was not prepared to swear that no milk powder had been put into the stout.

Mr. Henry Richmond, an analyst, gave similiar evidence, stating that lactose was not present in the defendant's stout in any appreciable quantity.

This concluded the case for the comnplainant.

Mr. Kerby submitted at length that there was no case for him to answer.

The magistrate decided to the contrary, however, and at the next hearing — which is fixed for January 13th - evidence will be called for the defence."
Folkestone, Hythe, Sandgate & Cheriton Herald - Saturday 23 December 1911, page 5.

Now isn't that dead handy? Mr. Charrington has told us how much lactose was in their Milk Stout: 9 lbs per barrel. That works out to arouns 1.25 lbs for a home brew recipe of 5 imperial gallons. looking through my Milk Stout recipes I see that 1943 Whitbread-brewed Mackjeson contained 1 lb, and the 1973 version 0.75 lbs. So rather less than Charrington recommended.  While 1933 Barclay Perkins Milk Stout contianed 1.75 lbs.

Though in the case of Mackeon, the smaller amount of lactose might just be the result of a reduced gravity. What's really important is the percentage of lactose in the grist, not the absolute weight of lactose used.

Wonder where this court case is going? So do I.

Where was a brewery’s money?

The Brewery Manual handily summarises the financial information of each brewery. I never thought I’d find this sort of thing interesting. But now I do. Sad, what I’ve become.

I realised the figures highlight a particular feature of the British brewing industry: tied houses. A brewery of any size had massive amounts of capital tied up in their pub estate. Much more than in the brewery premises themselves.

I’ve picked three breweries that were to form the core of two of the Big Six, Courage and Bass Charrington. At all three, the pub estate accounted for over 50% of their assets. Though at Barclay Perkins it’s not quite so easy to see because they’ve lumped together the breweries and pubs.

It made British breweries quite odd businesses, with profits that looked rather small compared to the amount of capital invested. When people from outside the brewing industry began to get involved in the business, they weren’t very happy with the return on investment. That in turn prompted a hardening of attitudes towards tenants as breweries tried to squeeze more profit out of their pubs. It destroyed the cosy relationship between brewer and tenant that had served both parties relatively well for decades.

Brewing had been a very insular business until the 1950’s, with few entering management from the outside. As the Big Six began to coalesce in the late 1950’s and early 1960’s, the new larger companies began to be managed corporate types, who saw tenants merely as a means to earning a profit, not human assets to be nurtured and treasured. The old paternalism went out of the window.

Here are some tables.

Courage assets in 1953
Freehold Breweries	£420,348	3.13%
Fixtures and Fittings	£1,058,331	7.89%
Freehold and Leasehold Properties	£7,105,431	52.96%
Premium, Acquisition Sub-Shares	£1,378,633	10.28%
Investments	£1,444,325	10.76%
Stocks	£683,770	5.10%
Sundry Debtors & Loans	£746,633	5.56%
Cash at Bank and in hand	£515,561	3.84%
Deb Stock Sinking Fund (Sub)	£63,847	0.48%
total	£13,416,879
profit	£388,271	2.89%
Source:
Brewery Manual 1953-1954, page 111.

Charrington assets in 1953
Freehold and Leasehold Properties	£13,498,527	69.05%
Brewing & Bottling Plant & Rolling Stock	£1,536,736	7.86%
Casks	£30,000	0.15%
Loans on Mortgage	£92,735	0.47%
Trade Investments	£93,181	0.48%
Govt Securities	£662,801	3.39%
Other Investments	£46	0.00%
Book Debts and Rents receivable	£1,373,283	7.02%
Stock of Beer, etc	£1,726,936	8.83%
Cash	£536,052	2.74%
total	£19,550,297
profit	£742,246	3.80%
Source:
Brewery Manual 1953-1954, page 103.

Barclay Perkins assets in 1953
Properties and Equipment	£9,083,319	72.01%
Investments (Trade)	£37,387	0.30%
Cash Invests. (Deb Trustees)	£20,795	0.16%
Stocks on hand	£1,487,078	11.79%
Trade Debtors, etc, less Provisions	£770,033	6.10%
Government Securities	£608,779	4.83%
Cash at Bankers and in hand, ete,	£521,339	4.13%
Tax Reserve Certificates	£86,000	0.68%
total	£12,614,730
profit	£301,042	2.39%
Source:
Brewery Manual 1953-1954, page 73.

More financial stuff to come, I’m afraid.

Final results by brewery

I think we're finally there. The very last post in this series. I think.

We'll be looking at the results for each of the beers from every brewery. It's quite depressing in some cases to see just how shit the quality of beer in their pubs was. There really are some breweries whose houses should be avoided.

I suppose I'll just dive straight in with the first brewery alphabetically, which just happens to be Barclay Perkins.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Barclay Perkins	Burton	1010.8	1052.4	5.42	79.41%	-0.18	13	27.27%
Barclay Perkins	Pale Ale	1008.7	1045.6	4.81	80.88%	0.25	8	50.00%
Barclay Perkins	Porter	1011.6	1037.5	3.35	68.98%	-0.63	8
Barclay Perkins	Stout	1014.6	1055.4	5.31	73.72%	-1.21	12
Barclay Perkins	X	1041.8	1010.7	4.01	74.38%	-0.64	12	7.14%
average						-0.48	10.6	28.14%

Shit. That's the only way to describe their beer. Only their Pale Ale claws its way up to a small positive score. the Stout - with an average score of -1.21 is just awful. And you'd want to steer well clear of the Porter and Mild Ale, too. The overall average of -0.48 is very poor. Cloudy shit, too. Only just more than a quarter of the samples were bright.

Next it's Cannon.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Cannon	Burton	1013.3	1052.8	5.13	74.77%	-0.73	14	45.45%
Cannon	Pale Ale	1009.0	1045.2	4.72	80.06%	-0.09	14	54.55%
Cannon	Porter	1009.6	1034.6	3.25	72.38%	-2.56	11
Cannon	Stout	1014.9	1049.5	4.49	70.05%	0	9
Cannon	X	1035.1	1008.1	3.53	77.11%	0.54	4	64.29%
average						-0.57	10.4	54.76%

That's not really any better. Still only one positive score. And the truly appalling score for their Porter leaves the average even worse than Barclay Perkins at -0.57. Surprisingly, the one half-decent beer is a fairly weak Mild. At least their beer wasn't as murky as Barclay Perkins, with around half the samples bright.

Charrington was very much a brewery on the up between the wars.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Charrington	Burton	1014.6	1054.48	5.19	73.28%	1.00	6	66.67%
Charrington	Pale Ale	1008.7	1048.2	5.14	81.91%	-0.09	15	27.27%
Charrington	Stout	1012.9	1049.7	4.78	73.73%	-1.09	11
Charrington	X	1040.8	1008.7	4.17	78.63%	-0.70	13	30.00%
Charrington 9d only	Stout	1013.3	1052.5	5.10	74.70%	-1.00	10
average						-0.38	11	41.31%

Which is why it's such a surprise how poor their beer is. Again there's a single average positive score, this time for Burton. But the overall average is negative once more, -0.38. Clarity isn't great, either. The vast majority of Pale Ale and Mild Ale samples were cloudy.

So far so bad. Will City of London show any improvement?

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
City of London	Burton	1010.2	1051.33	5.36	80.03%	0.09	12	27.27%
City of London	Pale Ale	1008.7	1045.5	4.79	80.82%	1.00	5	38.46%
City of London	Porter	1008.9	1036.1	3.54	75.56%	-2	10
City of London	X	1033.7	1006.4	3.55	81.04%	-1.25	14	33.33%
average						-0.54	10.25	33.02%

A bit. OK, the overall average is still a poor -0.54. But at least two beers have a positive average, Pale Ale and Burton. Even if the Pale ale score is only just positive. Clarity, on the other hand, is dreadful.

Not sure I can face all of this today. Maybe I'll stop after the next brewery, Courage.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Courage	Burton	1012.1	1052.45	5.25	76.95%	1.25	2	50.00%
Courage	Pale Ale	1012.0	1053.8	5.46	77.93%	1.25	4	50.00%
Courage	Porter	1010.9	1037.5	3.45	70.88%	0.22	5
Courage	Stout	1011.6	1046.3	4.51	74.98%	-1.67	13
Courage	X	1034.5	1007.3	3.53	78.76%	0.38	7	93.75%
average						0.29	6.2	64.58%

That's better. Take out the rubbish Stout and it would look pretty good. Even with that, there overall average is still positive at 0.29.  Without it, the average would be 0.79. Odd that their Porter did better than their Stout. Clarity is excellent for their Mild, not so good for their Burton and Pale Ale.

Fifteen breweries in total, five done today. I make that two more parts to go. Then we really will be done.