Pubs and work in the 1970s

Two things which nowadays may have little connection – unless you work in hospitality – but back in the 1970s were often quite closely entwined. Especially on Fridays.

Even when I worked in the brewery, I nipped out for a pint a couple of times. Even though I had free beer on tap in the “cellar”. Why? To meet up with my mate Henry and have a couple of pints in the Wing Tavern. Oh, why pay for beer? Because it was Barnsley Bitter. Nectar of the gods.

Obviously, most days I got stuck into the free Mild. But not too enthusiastically. No more than a couple of pints. I was so responsible back then. And wasn’t too keen on crippling myself with the heavy machinery I was operating.

While I was briefly working in an arms factory close to Old Street in London, there were some excellent lunchtime boozing options. Like the George and Vulture, a Fullers pub. For a few pints of London Pride. Before getting back to the heavy machinery.

Oddly enough, one of my best memories, is of a Fullers beer, but not in one of their pubs. But in the Carpenter’s Arms, a real ale pub. Where one lunchtime, they had Fullers Hock in amazing condition. So good, I knocked back five pints. But it was only Mild. And the machinery wasn’t that heavy.

Next job, sweeping the floor of a bus garage in Leeds, had one pub moment: straight after we were handed our pay packets on midday Friday. Over the Kirkstall Road to the Highland Laddie. A little, lovely Tetley pub. With a more than decent pint of Mild. I gained the grudging respect of my colleagues by knocking back four pints in half an hour.

Overtime was always on offer. Two hours. Which delayed knocking off time until 18:00. Meaning that the Cardigan Arms, only a few hundred yards away, was open. For a few resuscitating pints of Mild.

Inside a 1920s bar (part two)

Yeah. We've got to the heast of a pub:its beer engines.

Part seems so have a weird aversion to to certain types of handpulls.

"The beer pulls, which should be of wood, and not the familiar ivory or composition, which is ugly, should not be hidden—because customers think they are being cheated if anything is done out of their view, and sometimes they are right. The sink, in the engine, should be sectioned off, with separate waste pipes to each section to carry off the waste beer, which should not all be put into the mild, porter, or stout, but carefully through a filter into the same cask to which it belongs.

The beer engine should be of the best, with patent drip taps, and, if necessary, a locking bar.

Under the bar-counter will be ranged wash-up bowls, and sinks, and wide shelves for bottled beers.

If the beer sale is large, it is better to have the engine in two groups of four pulls each, than a larger number of pulls together, to avoid congestion.

One set of pulls should be towards the centre of the counter.

If the conditions allow of it, draw beer direct from the wood, but this is seldom possible, owing to the difficulty of securing the right temperature in a bar. Beer, and particularly the beers of Burton, is far better so drawn.

At the back of the bar, shelves, some nine inches deep, are required, ranged at intervals, and these are best made of thick plate glass.

I do not recommend the use of urns for any class of trade, unless very large, but inverted bottles, with Irwin or Optic measures, which are automatically filled, and knave and fool-proof, as regards accurate measure."
"The Art and Practice of Innkeeping" by Alexander Francis Part, published by Heinemann London, 1922, page 209.

This section is so important.  Hard evidence that slops were retutrned to barrels. Stuff like this is rare.

Interesting that the recommendation is not to return all slops to the Mild, Porter or Stout. A sure indication that this is what many publicans did. It's making me think that my crazy theory about Mild going dark because of the lack of cheap dark draught beers when Porter disappeared, is perhaps not so crazy.

I wonder why Burton beer was better served by gravity? No idea, myself.

Inside a 1920s bar (part one)

I'm still banging on about "The Art and Practice of Innkeeping". Except we've moved above ground to the bar.

This section is slightly frustrating.

"The following are the usual compartments of the Bars: American, Hotel, Saloon, Public, Jug and Bottle, and Off License.

A Private Bar is becoming a thing of the past.

The main difference between them is in regard to price and company. The leading features common to some are the lack of comfort, space and ventilation; it is unnecessary to describe each Bar in detail."
"The Art and Practice of Innkeeping" by Alexander Francis Part, published by Heinemann London, 1922, page 208.

It is actually necessary to describe all the bars. Almost 100 years later, what they were is no longer common knowledge.

The list of bar types seems very London-orientated. I can't imagine there were many American bars in Bolton or Bradford. There are also many types of bar missing, including such common ones as Lounge, Smoke Room or Vault.

And what's the difference between a Jug and Bottle and an Off Licence? Surely they're both for off sales?

Here are some more details about exactly what a bar should look like:

"The equipment of a Bar will vary with the class of house very considerably, and also in town and country.

We shall assume that the bar is to be, partly, a buffet and that it will have a long counter.

This counter should be about 2 ft. 6 in. wide to allow of plates and sandwich and other dishes being placed upon it. The panels of the front, sloping inwards, should be as plain as possible, and dull polished. At its foot should be a rail, not of brass, which requires too much manual labour. The counter should be rather high, on the customer's side say 3 ft. 6 in. to 3 ft. 9 in., to avoid the breakage of glass, and there is nothing better for the top than a thick, highly polished, bright, plain linoleum, finished off with beading, to protect the edges.

Who has not, when consumed by hunger or thirst, gazed with veneration upon a Barmaid as "she moves a goddess and as she looks a Queen" upon the invisible Olympian heights she occupies?

The back, or serving side of the counter, should have a raised platform, running its full length, and should have at least two lift-up flaps, and a contrivance to hold them back on occasion. Nothing should be allowed to obstruct the flap.

If the bar is to serve one class of customer only, and this is highly desirable, it should be, mainly, divided into two sections, one to be used for food and one for liquor."
"The Art and Practice of Innkeeping" by Alexander Francis Part, published by Heinemann London, 1922, pages 208 - 209.

That's a bit mean not having a brass foot rail. I'm glad that recommendation has been widely ignored. A linoleum bar top seems a bit cheap, too. What's wrong with good old-fashioned wood?

Does anyone still have a raised platform at the serving side of the bar? I seem to remember seeing this years ago in a crowded Dublin pub.

The Pembury Tavern in 1897

Mention of the Oembury Tavern omn Twitter  reminded me of this wonderful little report.

The sociologist Charles Booth undertook a wide-ranging survey into life in London during the 1890's. He interviewed people from all walks of life, but what interests me are those he conducted with brewers and publicans.

Below is a transcipt from his original notebooks, which were used as the basis for his book "Inquiry into life and labour in London". They provide a fascinating glimpse into everyday life in London at the end of the 19th century.

"Interview with Mr. T. Cox, manager of 5 Public Houses
Nov 10th 1897.
Interview with Mr. T. Cox, manager of 5 Public Houses at the Pembury Arms in Hackney, Amhurst Street. [The pub stil exists: The Pembury Tavern, 90 Amhurst Road, London E8 1JH, telephone: 020 - 89852205]
(Booth B348, p179-187)

Mr. Cox has dark brown hair, beard and whiskers, is about 50 years of age, middle height: his father, grand-father and great grandfather were publicans and his son is going to be one.

he has 5 houses under him.
1/-. Pembury Arms, Amhurst Road
2/. the Unicorn at the junction of the Commercial Street and Shoreditch
3/. One in Tottenham
4/. One in Denmark Hill
5/. One in Homerton

Mr. Cox said that the old fashioned publican was a man of the past, with his white apron, long clay pipe and his habit of drinking with his customers. Now you have a different class of manager - a capitalist, a better class. He thinks that houses were never so well managed as now.

At the Pembury Arms there are 7 bars, two of which are reserved for men only. One is for jugs and bottles. Women are never allowed in the men´s compartments not even wives of customers.

His chief custom is from the residential class of the neighbourhood, clerks and city people who come home have their supper then take a turn out of doors and come in to meet their friends at the Pembury Arms. With some houses the main trade is done with passersby. "It depends on the type of district you are in."

It´s most important that your house should be conducted respectably. Therefore you must serve no drunken man. His potman fetches the police and he turns out anyone they see has had too much. He sends for the police in preference to letting his potman turn them out because of the remarks that would be made. "Look at him turning a man out and treating a man like that after he has made him drunk." The police are not always near. He has tried for years to get a point placed opposite his door but unsuccessfully the Commissioner always says he cannot spare any more men.

Every week he pays 1/- per week to the police as "call money". Nominally it is for calling the servant just before 1 o´clock. This house opens at 7. His house in Shoreditch at 5.30.

The potman is now called "Porter" in better class houses pots are seldom used now. Glasses are becoming more and more universal: the reason being that when you have women at the bar you can´t prevent them from having favourites and it used to be their habit to give nearly a pint to such as these at the price of half a pint. Men too when they asked for a half pint always liked to have it served to them in a pint pot and insisted on full measure, which they told by tipping up their pot thus [sketch of a pot held at an angle of 45 degrees with the top of the beer just touching the rim].

With a glass you serve half a pint just which both you and your customer can judge of before you hand it to him.

Those to whom the most harm is done in public houses are the servant girls sent to fetch beer - not the children. In his houses he has a separate compartment for jugs and bottled so as to prevent this source of annoyance. Children sip, he has often noticed it. he never gives sweets - considers it unfair trading but has lost the custom of many children by doing so. "A child will go 100 yards further for their parents beer if they will get a sweet by so doing." He did not think that the gift of a sweet stopped the habit of sipping.

Houses have gone up enormously and are still going up - thinks many of them cannot pay at the present prices. "They are getting more and more into the hands of brewers." they are worth more than they can give a return on now because of their prospective monopoly value. No new licenses are granted. Population increases and with it demand for beer.

He has noticed no increase in women´s drinking .

With regard to treatment by customers. Mr. Cox when he served behind the counter always refused to accept drinks. People were offended at first but rather glad of it later. They gave a preference to the house where they knew they would not have to stand a drink to the publican."

 Note the obsession with women drinking. It's a common theme in the late Victorian period.

My favourite part, however is the reasonfor moving to glassware: so barmaids couldn't overserve unnoticed.

Whitbread’s brewery in 1960 (part five)

I’m concluding our little glimpse into Chiswell Street. I hope you’ve enjoyed it as much as me.

Whitbread, beginning in the interwar years, was a major player in the improved public house. Though in the early years improvements often met resistance from the licensing authorities. Hypocritical temperance members didn’t want pubs to be better, more social places. They wanted them to be dismal dens of vice because that made them easier to campaign against. After WW II this disruptive behaviour seems to have mostly ended, leaving breweries a freer rein to improve and enlarge pubs.

“The Second World War necessarily brought about a great change in both the social structure of the nation and in its drinking habits. Restrictions on building and the shortages of supplies and materials greatly affected brewers as they were unable to carry out maintenance or repair work on their own public-houses. As soon as restrictions were lifted brewing companies found it necessary to spend vast sums in renovating existing pubs as well as building new ones. Whitbread's were quick to take up the challenge. In 1949, they reorganised their finances and floated a public issue of shares to give them a sound financial structure in readiness for expansion and development. In the same year, they employed a firm of industrial designers to advise on the redecoration of a number of their public-houses, and created what are now known as "theme" houses. The first of these was the Nag's Head in Covent Garden, which attracts many visitors from overseas as well as those who work in the locality. In its new decor, prints, pictures and other items of interest are used to trace the history of Covent Garden and of the two Theatres Royal. Six other theme houses followed within the next few years. They were The Yorker in Piccadilly (with the theme of cricket); The Railway Tavern, Liverpool Street (British Railways); The Sherlock Holmes, Northumberland Street (Conan Doyle's detective) The Coach and Eight at Putney (rowing), and The Printer's Devil, Fetter Lane (the history of printing). At the same time equal care was being paid to the redecoration and rebuilding of other pubs, the most famous of which is The Samuel Whitbread, in Leicester Square.”
The Sphere - Saturday 23 July 1960, page 35.

Wartime building restrictions, which continued well after the war’s end, were a big headache for brewers. Many, especially those based in London, had pubs damaged or even destroyed by bombing. But it was difficult to get permission for repairs or rebuilding.

Was this the start of theme pubs? I bet you’d like to know what happened to them.

The Nag's Head in Covent Garden, 10 James St, is still trading with the same name. It's currently a McMullens pub. http://www.mcmullens.co.uk/nagshead

The Yorker at 189 Piccadilly, formerly called the Yorkshire Grey, renamed in 1955. Currently a restaurant.

The Railway Tavern, 15 Liverpool Street, is still there and still retians the name. I recognise it because I've drunk there in the past.

The Sherlock Holmes, 10 Northumberland Street, is also still around under the same name.

The Coach and Eight, 167 Upper Richmond Road Putney, is currently trading as the Fox and Hounds.

The Printers Devil, 98 Fetter Lane, was another still operating under its theme name, until its closure a few years ago.

The Samuel Whitbread, 17-18 Leicester Square, was built in 1958 and closed around 1970. It was Whitbread's flagship pub, opened with much fanfare. It didn't last that long. Boak & Bailey wrote about it recently. http://boakandbailey.com/2014/07/the-launch-and-sinking-of-a-flagship/

Some more general stuff next:

“To-day, Whitbread's, which employ more than 6,000 people, own five breweries, including Mackeson's at Hythe (birth-place of Mackeson Stout). They have also recently entered into association with more than twenty brewing companies in Britain. In Norfolk, Whitbread  have their own maltings, and in Kent they have both maltings and hopfields; most of the ancient oast houses in Kent having been fitted with oil furnaces to replace coke fires. Another innovation at the hopfields is the spraying by helicopters to control pests and diseases.”
The Sphere - Saturday 23 July 1960, page 35.

Which five breweries would they be? I thought they owned more by then. Or maybe I’m thinking of breweries under the Whitbread Umbrella. Checking, it seems Whitbread had purchased 8 breweries between 1920 and 1958, most of them quite small. Their buying spree started in 1961.

The brewery at Hythe didn’t stay open that much longer, despite being the birthplace of one of Whitbread’s biggest brands.

Finally, some more pretty pictures:

“Two coopers are repairing casks. The company employs sixteen coopers who are masters of their craft; there's also an apprentice coopers' school.”
The Sphere - Saturday 23 July 1960, page 35.

“In the Mill Room, the malt is cracked between steel rollers before being passed to cases above the mash tuns. There are four machines, each of which is capable of cracking 240 bushels of malt per hour.”
The Sphere - Saturday 23 July 1960, page 35.

“The filling of casks is known in the brewery as "racking". In this picture the men are "racking" Best Ale in the cellars.”The Sphere - Saturday 23 July 1960, page 35.

Pretty sure the gyle number on those casks of Best Ale is 348. Which means, assuming the photo is from 1960, it must have been sometime in May. I reckon the beer was brewed on 19th May. It would have been racked 5 or 6 days later. So my guess is the photo is from 24th or 25th May.

“Below: Soldier and Sailor, two of thirty shire horses employed to deliver beer within a three-mile radius of the brewery.”
The Sphere - Saturday 23 July 1960, page 35.

Now wasn’t that fun?

The 1950’s pub (part three)

It’s been rather a while since the first two parts of this series. In case you’ve forgotten, we’ve already looked at the types of bar in a pub and the drinks sold in them. Now it’s time to look at the different types of pub.

The author identifies three main types of pub, though I’m not sure I can really see a clear distinction.

“pub types
Speaking generally there are three London pub types all with their particular colours—colour is very important in pubs. First, the alehouse type which follows the functional tradition in its use of solid carpentry, scrubbed wood tables and bar-top, and "grained oak" or "teak" paint. A particularly satisfying sort of pub, this type has an immensely long history, stemming from the middle ages, when any wayside house opening its doors for the sale of liquor would automatically invite the passer-by into the kitchen. It is in fact the kitchen vernacular. Many London pubs and public bars are of this type, or of the type of its younger and slicker town cousin the City Tavern. ”
"London Night & Day" edited by Sam Lambert.

I can remember pubs with a “grained oak” paint job. I always thought it looked a bit odd and very 19th century. Basically it’s a way of painting wood grain onto a surface. The idea being to make any old wood look a more expensive, darker hardwood. It’s generally pretty unconvincing. I think the Bun House in Bromley by Bow might have had it.

I’ve had to blank out a word in the next section. Which is an indication of how sensibilities have changed over 60 years. I doubt anyone batted an eyelid at the word’s use in this context back in the 1950’s.

“In the city tavern, wines and spirits and bottled beers tend to take precedence over beer-in-cask, though there tend to be even more casks (chocolate or n***** brown now) which will be for port or sherry, rather than beer. The third type is the GIN palace, be-mirrored, be-lettered, be-plushed (walls and bar mahogany, either the real wood or paint-grained), the great Victorian contribution to the architecture of drink and as a building type, one of England's most prized possessions. ”
"London Night & Day" edited by Sam Lambert.

It just sounds like a slightly more upmarket version of the first type. Bottled beer as a sign of class in something I’ve come across more often in the 1950’s. The posher rooms in a pub also tended to sell a greater proportion of bottled beer.

I think we all understand what is meant by a gin palace. Those magnificent late Victorian and Edwardian gems of etched glass, mahogany and tiles. I was in a great example a few weeks ago: the Princess Louise in Holborn. Where the interior has recently been fully restored, complete with partitioning and snob screens. Well worth a visit if you’re in London and want to see what pubs were like 100 years ago.

Sadly, many brewers were less understanding than Sam Smiths, owners of the Princess Louise. Many magnificent pubs were horribly mutilated by philistine owners.

“Unfortunately the brewers, who have lost touch with their best traditions, are trying to break up gin palace interiors in the mistaken notion that they represent a vulgar phase in the history of drinking. To kill them, they are putting in jazz wallpapers, chromium bars, and graining that gives the effect of pickled or even of grey-wood panelling, a beastly development of genteelism, which tends to give the pub the semblance of a night-club or road-house, two very inferior institutions. Worse still, in the cause of "supervision" the licensing magistrates are helping on the bad work by demanding that the succession of intimate little bars, which are the pride and pearl of the English pub should be gutted in favour of one large bar. Result—loss of the cosiness and surprise that used to make a pub the favourite meeting place of friends. If you are one of those people who resent such atrocities and are not afraid to say so, you can help in the fight against the genteelising of pubs by speaking out boldly about the decorations to your neighbour over a pint of wallop. If your temperament is more retiring, just do it by choosing to drink in the un-tarted up ones. We aren't suggesting that the pubs we list are all period pieces; but they are some of the best that remain and all still have something of the real pub character.”
"London Night & Day" edited by Sam Lambert.

The author clearly isn’t keen on tarted up pubs. And with good reason. Expensive, attractive interiors were ripped out and replaced with cheap tat that started falling apart after a couple of years and needed a further refurbishment, usually equally shoddy.

Thank Stalin this is no longer true:

“Tourists should bear in mind the anomalies of the system of licensing hours, but it is safe to assume that pubs in and near the West End are open from 11.30 a.m. to 3 p.m. and from 5.30 until 11 p.m., and that others open half an hour later and close at 2.30 and 10.30. Hours on Sunday are shorter.”
"London Night & Day" edited by Sam Lambert.

Throwing away the ridiculous restrictions on opening hours introduced during WW I was the best development in UK pubs since, er, WW I.

Final results by brewery (part three)

Whoohoo! (I should really have a band playing triumphal music.) It's finally here. The end of one of my longest series.

And, appropriately, this time some of my favourite breweries are featured. Objects of my obsession: Truman, Whitbread and new favourite Watney.

Beginning with Truman.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Truman	Burton	1013.4	1058.73	5.90	77.11%	0.77	5	54.55%
Truman	MA	1029.0	1007.5	2.79	74.31%	-0.63	2	50.00%
Truman	Pale Ale	1008.0	1047.5	5.14	83.09%	1.62	3	84.62%
Truman	Porter	1010.5	1037.0	3.43	71.62%	0.67	3
Truman	Stout	1017.6	1053.5	4.66	67.20%	1.00	5
Truman	X	1041.2	1011.8	3.82	71.44%	0.5	5	78.57%
average						0.65	3.8	66.93%

You'll not that the top score, Pale Ale, wasn't brewed at their home base of Brick Lane, but in Burton. It's a rare example of a combination of good score and good clarity. Mmm . . . isn't Burton water supposed to aid brightness? That could explain why this beer did so well. Though their Mild wasn't far behind, with almost 80% clear. Only MA, a watery type of Mild, lets them down with a negative score.

Now Watney, who have been the star performers.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Watney	Burton	1013.4	1058.73	5.90	77.11%	0.77	9	69.23%
Watney	Pale Ale	1011.4	1053.8	5.54	78.90%	2.21	2	64.29%
Watney	Porter	1010.0	1035.0	3.24	71.28%	1.44	1
Watney	Stout	1013.4	1054.9	5.40	75.55%	1.13	3
Watney	X	1043.6	1008.8	4.50	79.65%	1.25	2	94.12%
average						1.36	3.4	75.88%

As those results prove. Consistently good scores across all styles. And three quarters bright. Any score over 1 is pretty damn good, and Watney managed that with everything except Burton. 2.21 for its Pale Ale is outstanding. And to think that's probably the forerunner of Red Barrel. Getting their Mild near perfect for clarity is also impressive. Yup, I'd be positively seeking out Watney's pubs in the 1920's.

Wenlock has been a surprise.

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Wenlock	Burton	1011.2	1052.46	5.38	78.69%	1.00	7	44.44%
Wenlock	Pale Ale	1006.9	1044.5	4.90	84.56%	0.09	9	63.64%
Wenlock	Porter	1011.3	1034.3	2.97	66.94%	-0.33	7
Wenlock	Stout	1016.1	1045.7	3.83	64.56%	1.36	2
Wenlock	X	1034.6	1007.2	3.57	79.21%	1.17	3	66.67%
average						0.66	5.6	58.25%

I hadn't expected them to do so well. All pretty good except for the Porter and Pale Ale, with the other three all scoring more than 1. Not quite so good with clarity, especially their Burton Ale. Some breweries - Wenlock, Watney and Mann - produced very decent Milds.

And finally . . . the people responsible for all this information . . . .

Brewery	style	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	score	rank	% bright
Whitbread	Burton	1010.6	1053.2	5.56	80.26%	1.33	1	33.33%
Whitbread	MA	1028.7	1005.1	3.06	82.04%	0.67	3	0.00%
Whitbread	Pale Ale	1011.3	1046.0	4.51	75.55%	2.25	1	75.00%
Whitbread	Porter	1011.9	1034.7	2.95	65.87%	1.33	2
Whitbread	Stout	1014.8	1055.3	5.27	73.32%	2.00	1
Whitbread	X	1041.2	1007.6	4.38	81.62%	-0.2	11	60.00%
average						1.23	3.6	45.00%

Impressive, again. Though the sample sizes were much smaller than for the other breweries for some reason. That side, their Pale Ale got the highest average of any beer. And two other beers, Burton and Stout, came top in their class. The only disappointment is their X Ale. Bizarrely, their weaker Mild, MA, scored better. Pale Ale does quite well for clarity, with three quarters bright. Not so great with the others, especially Burton.

So there we are. Done, done and done. Except for the appendices.

Huggins Stout quality 1922 - 1923

We're still in the sewer of 1920's draught Stout. Hopefully you've got your waders on.

Being one of the smaller breweries in this set and having closed in the 1920's, I haven't a huge amount of information about Huggins Most of what I've been able to find relates to their takeover by Watney, Combe, Reid in 1928.

Rumours of a takeover had already been knocking around in 1924, though nothing came of them:

"Huggins Brewery Rumours.
During the past few months Huggins and Co., the well-known London brewery concern, has been frequently mentioned as a probable party to an amalgamation scheme. So far all such rumours have proved to without foundation, but just recently the £1 shares have again been on the up grade amid renewed fusion gossip, and they are now quoted at 2 9-16. It is stated in the market that holders will shortly offered to £3 to £3 5s. for their shares, but we can obtain no confirmation of any such scheme."
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer - Saturday 19 July 1924, page 16.

I wonder if Watney was already sniffing around? The rumours resurfaced late in 1928. This time they did have real substance:

"Offer for Huggins' Shares.
During the past week the £1 Ordinary shares of Hugging and Co., the London brewers, have risen from 3.75 to about 4.5, on rumours of a favourable offer for the shares from another company. The directors now announce that a well-known brewery concern has offered to purchase all the Ordinary shares at £5 8s. 6d. each, exclusive a dividend of 1s 6d. per share and a bonus of 1s. per share now declared in respect of the past financial year. The directors who, with their relatives, are largely interested in the Ordinary capital, nave agreed to accept the offer and strongly recommend other shareholders also to accent. If the deal goes through, the Huggins Board will resign and receive from the purchasers £35,500 as compensation. The offer is conditional acceptance by holders of 76 per cent. of the Ordinary capital not later than the 27th inst."
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer - Monday 15 October 1928, page 15.

That was a very good price, far more than the shares were trading for on the open market. Though news of the offer didn't do much good for Watney shares:

"Watney Deferred Weak.
. . .
Very active interest was again shown Brewery securities. Watney Combe Deferred flattened to 71s. 6d. on the announcement that the company has made the offer for Huggins shares, the purchase of which involves a large sum of money, and may necessitate an increase in the capital of Watneys."
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer - Friday 26 October 1928, page 15.

Watney's takeover spree didn't end with Huggins. A few months later they bought another London brewery:

"A further step in the board's programme of expansion in the Metropolitan area is announced by Watney, Combe, Reid, and Co., which recently acquired control of the important Huggins undertaking. The company's latest purchase is the London and Burton Brewery, an East London enterprise. This deal will be financed out of the liquid funds of Watney, Combe, Reid, and Co., no new issue of capital being necessary.
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer - Wednesday 10 April 1929, page 15

That's impressive. That Watney could finance two significant purchases from their own cash. Maybe no new capital issue, but there were new debentures:

"WATNEY COMBE REID AND CO.
Lloyds Bank (Ltd.) and Messrs. Coutts and Co. have been authorised by Watney Combe Reid and Co. to receive applications for £2,500,000 Redeemable 5.5 per Cent. Debentures (1959) (in registered Debentures £1,000, £500, and £100) at 99 per cent., and the lists will close before Friday, March 8. The Debentures now being offered will contain a floating charge over the whole of the undertaking and assets of the Company, subject only to a sum of £4,358,702 now outstanding in respect of the 3.5 per Cent. Perpetual First Debenture Stock. The company will apply the sum £83,000 in each year ending March 15 in redeeming and cancelling Debentures by purchase in the open market or by drawings at par. The first drawing will take place in February 1930, unless Debentures to the prescribed amount have already been purchased, and the Debentures so drawn will be repayable March 15, 1930. Any Debentures not previously paid off will be redeemed on March 15. 1959. The company reserves the right, on giving six months’ notice, to redeem, after March 15, 1940, the whole or any part of the Debentures then outstanding at £101 per cent. The present issue will be applied to paying off loans contracted through the recent purchase the share capital of Huggins and Co., and for the purpose of financing the acquisition of a further brewery business London."
Yorkshire Post and Leeds Intelligencer - Tuesday 05 March 1929, page 19.

That was fun, wasn't it? I know, not really. But I have to fill up the space with something.

Right. Time to look at Huggins' Stout. First off, this is the strongest Stout from any of the breweries, the only one over 1060. The gravity is almost 10 points above the average for all the Stouts. It's the biggest outlier of any of the beers. I'm not sure why, as brewers normally kept their gravities pretty much in line with each other.

But I know what you're waiting for. You want to see how Huggins Stout performed.

Huggins Stout quality 1922 - 1923
Year	Beer	FG	OG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	Flavour	score	Price
1922	Stout	1018.6	1060.6	5.45	69.31%	good	2	9
1922	Stout	1017.2	1060.7	5.65	71.66%	v fair	2	9
1922	Stout	1019	1062	5.58	69.35%	v good	3	9
1922	Stout	1019	1062.5	5.65	69.60%	v poor	-2	9
1923	Stout	1017.7	1062.2	5.78	71.54%	fair	1	8
1923	Stout	1018.4	1063.4	5.85	70.98%	good	2	9
1923	Stout	1018.4	1061.9	5.65	70.27%	good	2	9
1923	Stout	1016.4	1061.9	5.92	73.51%	harsh flavour	-2	8
1923	Stout	1020	1061.5	5.38	67.48%	sound and fairly full	1	8
1923	Stout	1019.8	1064.3	5.78	69.21%	sound but rather bitter	1	9
1923	Stout	1018.6	1062.1	5.65	70.05%	v fair	2	8
Average		1018.5	1062.1	5.67	70.27%		1.09
Source:
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/001

Pretty well, is the answer. Only two of eleven samples received negative scores. Though they were both -2. That was offset by five scores of 2 and one of three. Which left it with an average score of 1.09. Not bad at all.

I'll definitely take my 1920's fortnight at the start of the decade to make sure I get chance to drink Huggins powerful Stout. It's got that extra alcohol thing I so admire in a beer.

London pubs in the 1850's (part three)

We've come to the end of George Dodd's look at London beer and pubs. This time, it's pub names under the microscope.

"The public-houses of London are as motley an assemblage as can well be imagined — so far as signs are concerned We find among them about 70 royal dukes— 'Cambridge,' 'Clarence,' 4 Cumberland,' 'Gloucester,' ' Sussex,' and 'York'; a few royal duchesses: 60 or 70 'Georges' and 'George the Fourths'; 'Victorias' and 'Royal Alberts' in great abundance ; 80 'Crowns' and 20 'Crown and Anchors'; 70 'King's Arms' and 90 'King's Heads'; 20 'Queen's Arms' and 50 'Queen's Heads.' Next comes a menagerie of extraordinary animals, — 30 ' Green Men,' with or without 'Stills,' 'Bells,' and 'French Horns'; 120 'Lions' — red, white, blue, or black; 25 'Black Horses,' and 45 'White'; 70 'White Harts'; 55 'Swans,' black or white as the case may be —and so forth. Then we have a series of couplets—55 'Coach and Horses'; 25 'Horse and Grooms'; 55 'Rose and Crowns'; and numerous' Ships,' combined in an extraordinary way with 'Blue Balls,' 'Blue Coat Boys,' 'Punchbowls,' 'Rising Suns,' 'Shears,' and 'Shovels.' The system of numeration has been carried out by the licensed victuallers more fully than they themselves, perhaps, are aware; for we shall find 'One Tun,' 'Two Bells,' 'Three Suns,' 'Four Swans,' 'Five Pipes,' 'Six Cans,' 'Seven Stars,' 'Eight Bells,' 'Nine Elms,' 'Ten Bells,' and 'Twelve Bells': let any enterprising publican hit upon 'Eleven' something—' Cricketers,' 'Virgins,' or what not — and the duodecimal system will be complete. Some numbers are great favourites, especially number three, which developes itself in all the varieties of  'Three Brewers' and 'Three Colts'; three each of 'Compasses,' 'Cranes,' 'Cups,' 'Doves,' 'Elms,' 'Foxes,' 'Goats,' 'Hats,' 'Herrings,' 'Horseshoes,' and 'Johns' ; 'Three Jolly Bakers,' 'Three Jolly Butchers,' and 'Three Jolly Gardeners'; 'Three Kings,' 'Three Loggerheads,' and 'Three Lords' (three loggerheads between three kings and three lords might appear sarcastic, were not the order of the alphabet alone responsible) ; three 'Mariners,' 'Merry Boys,' 'Neats' Tongues,' 'Nuns,' 'Pigeons,' 'Spies,' 'Sugar-loaves,' ' Stags,' 'Suns,' 'Swedish Crowns,' and 'Wheat Sheaves.' A wonderful display of tapsters' ingenuity occurs in such signs as 'Blade Bone,' 'Coffee-pot,' 'Essex Serpent,' 'Knave of Clubs,' 'Lilliput Hall,' 'Naked Boy and Woolpack,' 'Old Centurion,' 'Pickled Egg,' 'Prospect of Whitby,' 'Tippling Philosopher,' 'Widow's Son,' 'Valiant Trooper,' 'Sun in Splendour,' 'Running Footman,' 'Experienced Fowler,' 'Good Man,' 'Kentish Wag,' and 'World Turned Upside Down.'"
"The food of London" by George Dodd, 1856, pages 460 - 475.

The Three Johns? Isn't that John Lydon, Sid Vicious and Jah Wobble?

I particularly like the list of unusual names at the end of the list. You know what's really rather odd: I've drunk in two of them. I was in the Prospect of Whitby not long ago. And the Widow's Son, on Devons Road, I drank in when I lived just around the corner in the late 1970's.

I couldn't be arsed to check the whole list of odd names to see how many survived. The Essex Serpent is still around, but unfortunately the Naked Boy and Woolpack is no more. Shame. The World Turned Upside Down on the Old Kent Road seems to have only recently closed. Double shame. It's now a Domino's Pizza, though the building doesn't look that old.

I found a little more about the Naked Boy and Woolpack:

"Naked Boy and Woolpack, No. 23 PARISH STREET, TOOLEY STREET, SOUTHWARK, the last of the public-houses in London retaining the sign of the Naked Boy. Respecting the origin of the name there has been much difference of opinion. This is supposed to have been originally a Negro boy seated on a cotton bale. But the explanation is doubtful. Probably the origin of the name was in most instances a naked figure affixed to a house. Thus the Fortune of War public-house, at the corner of Cock Lane, Giltspur Street, used to be in vulgar language the Naked Boy, from an effigy outside it of a youthful Bacchus astride a barrel. Hatton, 1708, Maitland, 1739, and Dodsley, 1761, give one Naked Boy Alley, three Naked Boy Courts, and two Naked Boy Yards in London. In 1880 the only survival was Naked Boy Court, on the north side of Ludgate Hill, and that euphemised into Boy Court."
"London Past and Present: Its History, Associations, and Traditions" by Henry Benjamin Wheatley, Peter Cunningham, 1891, page 571.

Boy Court sounds almost as bad as Naked Boy Court. Still, better than a pub called the Naked Boy on Cock Lane.

Here's another mention of the pub:

"On Wednesday the Prisoner underwent another examination, and two other persons appeared as prosecutors against the unfortunate Ezekiel. One of these persons was Mr. James Tuck, the landlord of a public-house at Horsleydown, known by the queer sign of "the Naked Boy and the Woolpack," and the other was a Mr. Saker, an honest layer of brick, and neighbour to mine host of the Naked Boy and Woolpack. They charged the prisoner with borrowing money, and swindling them out of board, lodging, &c."
Sussex Advertiser - Monday 03 May 1824, page 2.

It seems to have been used regularly to hold inquests:

"Mr. Payne held an inquest on Wednesday evening, at the Naked Boy and Woolpack, Parish-street, Horseley-down, on the body of William Wright, an infant aged seven weeks, who was suffocated by its mother under the following singular circumstances . . ."
Hereford Journal - Wednesday 29 November 1843, page 4.

The Tippling Philosopher was in a bit of London I know quite well, as it's just around the corner from Jeff's Gunmakers in Clerkenwell.:

". . .in London there used to be a Tippling Philosopher, now extinct in Liquor Pond Street, opposite Reid's great brewery in Gray's Inn Road."
"English Inn Signs: Being a Revised and Modernized Version of History of Signboards" by Jacob Larwood, John Camden Hotten, 1951, page 273.

There's one great thing about pubs with unusual names: it's easy to search for references to them.

London Pubs in the 1850's (part two)

We're continuing with George Dodd's description of London pubs. This time considering the licensing system.

I'm shocked that bribery was once the way to get a licence.

"Mr. Lawson draws attention to a few facts that strikingly illustrate the defects of the public-house licensing system in past years. It was found in the year 1817, by a Parliamentary Committee, that the ordinary mode of obtaining a license in the metropolis was to give the beadle of the parish a bribe of a few shillings, whereon he produced the signature of the 'clergyman of the parish,' or of the other persons whose recommendation was essential. Public-house licenses were obtained in various other ways, with a scandalous disregard to public necessity, and merely by the influence of builders, landlords, and others, who had an object in enhancing the value of property. At the period in question, in High Street Shadwell, there was one public-house to every twelve other houses; in New Gravel Lane one to eight; in Lower Shadwell one to six; in Norton Folgate there were twenty-four public-houses to 1752 inhabitants, being one to every 73 persons; in Whitecross Street, within a length of 300 yards, there were 23 public-houses.*"
* Merchant's Magazine, 1853.
"The food of London" by George Dodd, 1856, pages 472 - 473.

"Good old Shadwell, the Kennel is our place, Shadwell never, ever, ever shall lose face." No wonder they sing that there are that many pubs in Shadwell. I want to move there now.  No, not now. I want to move there 160 years ago. There hardly seem to be any pubs there today. How sad.

"This licensing, whether intended as a source of revenue or as a measure of moral police, extends throughout the malt-liquor trade. There must be a license for a public brewer, a license for a victualler or publican, a license for one who sells beer 'to be drunk on the premises,' a license for one who sells beer 'not to be drunk on the premises;' and in addition to these there are licenses for spirit-sellers and for wine-sellers. The whole number thus amounts to something considerable — not less than 270,000 licenses in the United Kingdom, granted to these dispensers of beverages. In 1830, a change was made, whereby the excise could grant licenses as well as the magistrates; hence arose the beer-shops, and hence the establishment of new ale-breweries, and hence the brewing of ale by the great porter-brewers.
"The food of London" by George Dodd, 1856, page 473.

I've mentioned the 1830 Beer Act as the catalyst for Porter brewers to move into Ale brewing.  But what direct evidence is there? I don't think I've seen any, just supposition. Though I can understand why, in a pub where only beer could be sold, that a brewery might want to be able to supply every type, rather than just Porter and Stout.

270,000 licences connected to drink? That's a huge number. According to the 1851 census, there were 27,393,337 people living in the UK. Which makes one drink licence for every 101 people.  I'd definitely count that as "something considerable".

"In relation to the metropolis only, the number of public-houses is of course enormous — intended, as they are, to supply malt-liquor to two million and a half of drinkers. In London, the licensed victuallers are probably about 4500; while the beer-sellers are somewhat over half this number — very likely 7000 altogether, equal to one in about every 45 houses, or one to 350 inhabitants."
"The food of London" by George Dodd, 1856, page 473.

I feel it's my duty, where possible, to verify numbers like these.

Brewers, Vuctuallers, etc 10th October 1848 to 10th October 1849, England number of persons Number of persons who brew their own beer licensed to sell beer licensed to sell beer Collections Brewers Victuallers To be drunk on the premises Not to be drunk on the premises Victuallers To be drunk on the premises Not to be drunk on the premises Bushels of malt consumed by the whole London 79 4,223 2,054 65 1 50 8 6,289,908 total  2,257 59,335 34,800 3,270 25,985 12,201 972 27,676,714 Source: "Statistics of British commerce" by Braithwaite Poole, 1852, page 4.

Victuallers are fully licensed publicans, so his guess of 4,500 is only a couple of hundred out. He reckoned about 2,500 beer houses, which is a gain a few hundred higher than the real figure of 2,054.

While I've got this table here, see what a disproportionate amount of the country's beer was brewed by a few big London breweries. Just 79 breweries consumed almost a quarter of the malt used in brewing.

And note the huge difference between pubs in London and elsewhere: breweries. Only 51 pubs in London brewed, compared to more than 38,000 in the rest of England. With 2,362,200 inhabitants in 1851, London contained 13% of England's population (17,982,849 in total).

Next time we'll be looking at pub names.