The International Museum of Killing

Did I mention we spent a couple of days in London this week? No? We spent a couple of days in London this week. There, I've told you now.

We had a morning flight and were in our hotel by midday. Not bad going, really. Especially as they'd annouced as the train stood in Tottenham Hale that Liverpool Street had been evacuated. Surpisingly, taking the tube from Tottenham Hale directly to King's Cross was actually quicker.

The kids were excited to discover that our room overlooked the Circle Line. A train rattled by about every 30 seconds. Sort of reassuring, in a way. I can't say it disturbed my sleep. Though I am like a corpse as soon as the lights go out. Particularly if I have a few beers in me.

To get through everything we had planned, we couldn't afford to hang about. First on the list was a visit to the Imperial War Museum. Or the International Museum of Killing as I'd been calling it to the kids. I'd been past it plenty of times on the bus when I lived in Thornton Heath. But never been inside. It's that typical never-visiting-anywhere-in-the-place-you-live syndrome. Lack of political correctness was a factor, too. I'm surprised they haven't changed the name.

We walked past an OK looking pub on the short walk from the tube station to the museum. I made a mental note. Loads of picnic tables outside, and a temperature above freezing. No need to worry if they let kids in. And tied to Greene King. Even better. A chance to try an authentic IPA, not one of those stupid, new-fangled, strong, hoppy ones.

Even Dolores had to admit the main hall was impressive. A Jagdpanther, a V2 and a German midget submarine. The breech of the gun virtually filled the interior of the Jagdpanther. "How many people were inside? Two?" Dolores asked. "At least four or five" I replied. "How did they all fit in?" I looked at the little plaque. "It actually had a crew of six." "Six midgets, they must have been." I don't think they could have persuaded Dolores to be in a tank crew.

Dolores wasn't impressed with the exhibits of smaller items - clothing, rifles, etc - further on in the museum. It was too dark. Only the radio made from a wine bottle a razor blade and a few bits of wire attracted her attention. Andrew soon found the display of WW II German stick hand grenades. He pressed his nose against the glass. He's easily pleased. "Look dad, there's a Sturmgewehr." What interesting German vocabulary Lexie has picked up. He was right, too.

What most struck me was the low-quality of the uniforms. Coarse cloth and amateurishly-made insignia. They look much better quality in films. The real ones looked rough and itchy. Though I suppose an itchy uniform was one of a soldier's lesser worries.

Dolores had soon had enough and went for a sit down. Lexie joined her.

"Let's go and look at the WW I exhibition. That'll cheer us up." I suggested to Andrew. The bright, shiny peacetime uniforms were in stark contrast to the mud-coloured jobs adopted a couple of weeks into hostilities. They looked even more cheaply-made and uncomfortable than the WW II ones. Still, many soldiers didn't get to wear them for long.

Did I mention one of my uncles fought in WW I? My mum's eldest brother. He was captured and spent a couple of years in a POW camp. A good way of losing weight. In the later stages of the war, the Germans weren't able to feed their own frontline troops properly, let alone prisoners.

When we'd finished being cheered up by trench warfare, I made a suggestion. "What about a drink in that pub we walked past?" "Thats a good idea." Dolores was disarmingly enthusiastic. "What do you want to drink?" "A pint of some nice beer. Whatever you're having." As a German, Dolores has no hangups about drinking pints.

As I've already mentioned, the Three Stags is a Greene King house. So I was expecting a pretty good beer selection. IPA, Ruddles County and Old Speckled Hen. Hard to beat that lineup, eh? "Two pints of County, please." The barmaid was reassuringly Polish. In my youth, County was very highly regarded. One of the early CAMRA cult beers, along with Courage Directors and Old Peculier. They used to sell it in Kirrages, Newark's first real ale showcase. To be honest, I never cared for it. Too heavy and sweet for my taste.

"That's nice, Ronald" Dolores said, draining half her glass in one draught. All those guns must have given her a thirst. It was better than I remembered it. Malty, but not cloying. We watched a convoy of number 159 buses pass. "That's the bus I used to pass the museum on." What enthralling conversation I have.

"Anyone want another drink?" My glass was worryingly empty. "I'll just have a half." The barmaid was squeezing the last few drops into my pint when I noticed she was pulling the wrong handle. She'd served me Old Speckled Hen. A quick check of the pumpclips revealed that, at 4.5% ABV, it was actually a little stronger than the County. Didn't County used to be 5%? No wonder it didn't taste as cloying as before. "I asked for County." "Oh" The barmaid looked uncertain. "It's OK, I'll take that instead." No point wasting a perfectly good pint.

Seated, I took a sip of the Hen. You know something. If I hadn't seen it pulled, I wouldn't have noticed it was a different beer. I let Dolores have a taste for confirmation. "Mm it does taste the same." Maybe it was the same beer. Or perhaps the two are party-gyled. What did I care. It was pleasantly malty. And had alcohol in it. Best of all, the moderate carbonation meant it slipped down with no effort.

Progress report

People keep asking me how the book is going. Well, a couple of people have. Maybe the rest of you are just too polite to ask.

It's hard to say what percentage of it is complete. I'm not sure yet exactly what I'll include. Without a bit of discipline, it could easily get totally out of hand. There's so much information out there that I could continue researching for years.

A couple of chapters have a good bit of flesh on their bones. 1700-1750, 1815-1850 and 1850-1880 are getting there. In fact, the 1815-1850 chapter is probably a little overweight and in need of a rigorous diet. The chapters 1880-1914 and 1914-1920 have a good bit of the required information, but still miss some elements. Most of the 20th century chapters I've barely started.

Here's an overview by chapter of how much I've done:

Chapter 1 1700-1750 45 pages
Chapter 2 1750-1780 6 pages
Chapter 3 1780-1815 10 pages
Chapter 4 1815-1850 67 pages
Chapter 5 1850-1880 33 pages
Chapter 6 1880-1914 15 pages
Chapter 7 1914-1920 17 pages
Chapter 8 1920-1939 3 pages
Chapter 9 1940-1949 6 pages
Chapter 10 1950-1973 2 pages

In total, there are just over 60,000 words.

So how far am I? About 40% done, I reckon. Of course, that's without the recipes. They'll be another couple of hundred pages.

Brewing 1790's style

I've finally managed to tear myself away from the 1830's. Back a few decades to the 1790's. When they still had the annoying habit of writing "s" more like "f". You get used to it after a while, but you do wonder what the point was. At the end of words they wrote them the normal way, so you come across things like "bufinefs". Very odd.

Today's source is "A Treatise on the Brewing of Beer" by E. Hughes published in 1796. A work I hadn't heard of until I stumbled across it in Google books a couple of days ago. It's not too great on the details of mashing, but has a lot about cleaning techniques.



Mashing
Thermometers were just coming into use at the start of this period, but many brewers were still accustomed to brewing without the aid of one. Water was boiled in the copper and then transferred to the mash tun. There was s imple method for ascetaining when it was at the correct temperature for mashing "do not put your malt in for mashing till the steam has escaped and you can see your face in the water; but if time will not admit of this, add about one gallon of cold water to eighteen gallons of hot."

After stirring well to mix the water and grains, the mash was left to stand for at least two hours. There was then a second, shorter mash. Finally, boiling water was poured over the grains to make small beer.


Boiling
The wort was quickly brought to the boil in the copper. A vigorous boil was maintained in order to break the wort as quickly as possible. The boil lasted thirty or forty minutes for Ale, 6o minutes for Strong Ale.


Cooling
As soon as the boil was completed, the wort was moved into the cooler. This was of a sufficient size so that the wort was no more than two inches deep. If the wort was not sufficiently shallow, it would not cool quickly enough in the summer and was likely to become "foxed" and quickly turn sour.


Fermentation
After cooling, the wort was transferred to the gyle or "working" tun. This was often done in a slow, thin stream to help cool the wort even more. Hughes recommended adding the yeast a little at a time to ensure that the fermentation was not too rapid, which could lead to problems with clarity later on. After each addition of yeast, the wort was stirred.


Cleansing
When the head of yeast began to collapse, the wort was cleansed. If it was left in the tun until it had stopped fermenting and the yeast fallen to the bottom, it was difficult to start a secondary fermentation in the cask. It could also be difficult to get the beer to drop bright.

The casks in which the wort was cleansed were kept filled so the the yeast would discharge from the bung hole more easily. This was important if the finished beer were to be clear. It avoided the need for fining with isinglass, which was considered a last resort as it tended to remove condition.


Hygiene
Cleanliness in breweries is nothing new. "Care should be taken to keep the brewing utensils as clean and as sweet as those used in a dairy; for without cleanliness tis impossible to have your beer in a good and wholesome state."

Coppers were cleaned after each brewing and, if not used for a while, before brewing to remove any verdigris. The mash tun was cleaned with boiling water after use. In warm weather, it was brushed with a solution of quick lime which was washed off after 24 hours. Coolers and gyle tuns were frequently cleaned with boiling water and lime to prevent "foxing" and unpleasant odours.

Oh no

Dolores has been checking our bank statements again.

"Ronald, what are all these books you've ordered?" I don't know why she needs to ask. Beer books, of course. She starts counting. "Eighteen. Eighteen books you've ordered. You have to stop. No more."

It gets worse. Next she starts adding up the cost. "540 euros! We could have gone on holiday with that money!" I try to explain. "I need them for my book. They're research material. And presents for my birthday." No-one else buys me a present. If they did, I wouldn't be forced to treat myself.

Dolores hasn't finished. "We could have had a nice holiday with that 540 euros." Lexie chips in "Daaad, I really wanted to go to London. You and your stupid books" As usual, he's slightly confused, but very belligerent. "We're still going to London next week, don't worry." I try to reassure him. He still gives me a slit-eyed stare.

I don't have a book pile any more. There are two piles now. Just as well Andrew archived some of my magazines. If he hadn't, they'd both be shoulder height. Or I'd have to have four piles. But it's all essential stuff. Another book on malting. You can never have too many books on malting. Maybe one day I'll find a definitive answer to the sprinkling controversy. Maltsters seem to have discussed little else in the 19th century.

"540 euros!" Dolores is still in a state of shock. "Look at it this way, that's only 30 euros a book. Bargain." I don't really expect that to placate her, but it makes me feel better.

Huguenot

I'm slowly assembling a decent collection of London brewery histories. Watney, Charrington, Watney again, Courage, Mann. I've a few books on Whitbread, too.

"The Albion Brewery 1808-1858" was the last to plonk on the doormat. I started reading it in my sickbed earlier this week. It's the history of Mann, Crossman and Paulin. On the cover is a painting of the brewery for the mid-1800's. Including the Blind Beggar pub. It's one of the few large London breweries to have survived pretty much intact. There's still a pub called the Blind Beggar, too, though that was rebuilt in the late 19th century.

When I lived in the East End in the 1970's, I'm pretty sure it was still brewing. Though, being part of the Watney empire, it was all crap. I definitely drank in the Blind Beggar a couple of times. Though I'm struggling to remember why I visited it more than once. I've rarely found a pub more depressing and scary simultaneously.

But I digress. I've not got through much of the book yet. I'm still on the stuff about the Mann, Crossman and Paulin families. But I've already discovered one interesting fact. The Paulins were of Huguenot origin.

Why's that interesting? It's the third major London brewery I've found with a Huguenot connection, the others being Courage and Whitbread. Fascinating, eh? No wonder French beer was crap.

More on malt 1815-1850

I really am beginning to get swamped by material on the early 19th century. Just found some more fascinating stuff about malt.

The British state depended heavily on the tax on malt. It was responsible for around 10% of all tax income. No wonder it was so closely regulated.


Malt
Malting was a highly regulated activity. The reason was simple: a duty on malt was the principal method of taxing beer. Even more so when the excise duty on beer was abolished in 1830. Government legislation dictated how maltsters had to operate. The penalties for failing to adhere to the regulations were severe: fines of £100, £200 or even £600 and confiscation of the malt. Most of the offences were concerned with artificially reducing the volume of grain at the points when it was measured by excise officers, duty being set per quarter, a measurement of volume. (Source: "An Historical Account of the Malt Trade and Laws" by William Ford, London, 1849, page 10-14.)

The malt tax was not collected as efficiently in all parts of the UK. Less than 50% of the duty was collected in Wales and Ireland. (Source: "An Historical Account of the Malt Trade and Laws" by William Ford, London, 1849, page 40.) In Ireland, great quantities of unmalted grain: "many Irish Brewers are at present using raw barley, mixed with Malt, and this, not in a small way, but to the extent of one-half; some even more: and from their mode of preparing barley, they obtain an extract within 7s. per quarter of that manufactured from entire Malt." (Source: "An Historical Account of the Malt Trade and Laws" by William Ford, London, 1849, page 40.)

A significant proportion of total tax income, around 10%, was derived from the tax on malt.


The roasting of malt was regulated by its own Act of Parliament. Roasting had to take place at least a mile from the malt-house. This led to the trade of Malt Roaster nad to a concentration of the trade in the hands of a few specialists, mostly located in London. (Source: "An Historical Account of the Malt Trade and Laws" by William Ford, London, 1849, page 69.) Properly malted barley gave more colour than unmalted barley, but not as much as partially malted barley. That, along with the duty saved by steeping for as short a period as possible (the volume of the malt was measured for excise purposes at the end of steeping) meant barley for making black malt was rarely properly malted. (Source: "An Historical Account of the Malt Trade and Laws" by William Ford, London, 1849, page 69.)

"The word malt is greatly libelled in these Roasting house; it being little better than roasted barley. The corn is only steeped for forty hours, being the shortest time the law allows, consequently pays at least 2s. 6d. per quarter less than the produce of malt, and is usually thrown upon the kiln from three to four days after being emptied from the cistern." (Source: "An Historical Account of the Malt Trade and Laws" by William Ford, London, 1849, pages 68-69.)

Number of breweries question

This might sound like a weird question. Especially coming from me. Well, it's not so much one question as a couple.

Does anyone know:

the number of breweries in the USA in 1996
the number of breweries in Canada in 1976
the number of breweries in Australia in 1996
the number of breweries in Switzerland in 1976 and 1986

I would be most grateful if anyone could help out. An accurate count of the current number of breweries in Canada and Australia would be nice, too.

The price of hops 1790-1842

2008 has been a good demonstration of the volatility of hop prices. It's nothing new. The size of the crop, and consequently the price, varied widely 200 years ago, too.

Take a look at this table:


The lowest price was 73 shillings a cwt (112 pounds), the highest 518 shillings. It doesn't need a mathematician to work out that's a huge blooming difference. Approximately 700%. And there were almost as massive changes from one year to the next. In 1823, 1824 and 1825, the price went from 124 shillings to 455 shillings and then back down to 80 shillings.

It's no wonder brewers insured themselves against such fluctuations by buying in extra in years where there was a glut of hops.

Fuller's questions answered

John Keeling of Fullers has kindly answered some of my questions on the mashing as recorded in the 1906 logs.


What did "opened sluices" mean?

J.K There is a gate at the front of the square. This was used to skim yeast off for either pitching or dumping. This was not used in my time because we had a suction system.

I have a question about the mashing part. This is from the AK, but they are all similar.

65 barrels at 164º F mashed 1 hour Stood 25 minutes
15 barrels at 175º F underlet Taps Stood 25 1 1/3 hours

Are the 15 barrels of liquor being added to the mash tun from underneath? Is that what the bit about underlet means?

J.K Underletting was allowing liquor in from underneath- 175 would have been a high temperature. The methodology in my time was to mash then immediately start to raise the temperature of the liquor tank for sparging.We did not underlet unless we had a problem. We do not have separate mash and sparge liquor tanks I suspect they had no steeles masher- mashing took one hour (with a steeles masher it took 20 mins!). This could involve mixing in vessel which might have blocked the plate slots. Underletting would therefore have been to clear the slots.

Come to think of it, I don't understand all of the next two lines, either:

Tap Gravity 26.9 Initial Heat 153 155 Tap Heat 148
Tap Final 3.4 Tap Final 151

I think I understand what Tap Gravity, Initial Heat and Tap Heat mean. But what
about Tap Final?

J.K. Tap gravity = PG of wort at time taken. Initial heat = mash bed temperature at
completion of mash. Tap heat= temperature of run off at time taken, final would have been temperature at the end of run off.

Oh, and any idea what beer BO was? It looks like a Burton to me. Or a Brown Ale. Dark, around 1055. I've found it party-gyled with X and OBE. It can be confusing the way they refer to X Ale as H sometimes. I guess that stands for Hock.

J.K. I would guess Burton Original.

The American homebrewer who is doing the recipes for my book said he was going to try to brew AK. It should be interesting. He was unsure about the hop additions. My best guess was around 50% added at the start of the boil, the other 50% 30-40 minutes before the end. Would that sound about right to you?

J.K. Hop additions were at start of boil then as a late copper hop (10 mins from end) in my time. I suspect they were different in 1906.


Many thanks to John for his answers. Until I get my time machine working, finding someone to ask about Barclay Perkins brewing methods could be more problematic.

Missed post

Yesterday was, I believe, the first day this year I didn't posted on the blog. Apologies for that. Factors beyond my control - not daring to go more than 2 yards away from a toilet -were responsible. Rather nasty stuff was coming out of either end of my body. And no, it had nothing to do with booze. I've had a touch of gastric flu.

Still there is an upside. I lost 5 kilos in 24 hours. Another two weeks of this and I'll hit my target weight.

Scotch Ale 1815-1850

Back to book extracts. I have a feeling that the 1815-1850 chapter will need some serious editing. It's currently almost 25% of the total book. And I want to add more to it. There are just too many sources for the period.

Scotch Ale. A topic I've already covered several times. But what the hell, there's still plenty to discuss. In the first half of the 19th century, there were significant differences in the way Scottish and English brewers worked. What were they? Try reading the text below.


Scotch Ale

Scotch Ales in the 1820's
Price__OG______FG______ABV
£4__1080-86____1032-35__6,625
£5__1090-95____1036-39__7
£6__1100-1108__1040-44__7,75
£7__1110-1116___1045-47__8,375
£8__1120-1125___1048-50__9,25
Source:
"Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 117


Scotch Ales in the 1840's
Price__OG______FG______ABV
£3__1080-86____1032-35__6,625
£4__1090-95____1036-39__7
£5__1100-1108__1040-44__7,75
£6__1110-1116___1045-47__8,375
£7__1120-1125___1048-50__9,25
Source:
"Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 117


The Scottish system of brewing
The main difference with England was that Scottish brewers mashed just once. One and a half to one and three quarter barrels of water were used per quarter of malt. The striking heat was between 175º and 185º F. Mashing took about 45 minutes, follwed by a period of standing between 2 and 3 hours. After this time the first wort was run off and the goods sparged with hot water.

For strong Ales, of over 1100, between 4 and 10 pounds of hops per quarter were used. In winter the average was about 6 pounds, in summer 8 pounds. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 149.) That's a little less than in England, where stronger Ales had 8 to 10 pounds of hops per quarter.

Roberts described how he hopped Ales when brewing.

OG________season___hops/qtr__1st addition__2nd addition____length of boil
1095-1100__Jan-Mar__10 lbs____4 lbs, 0 mins__6 lbs, 20 mins__60 mins
1085-1090__Jan-Mar__8 lbs_____4 lbs, 0 mins__4 lbs, 15 mins__60 mins
1070-1080__Jan-Mar__7 lbs_____2 lbs, 0 mins__5 lbs, 15 mins__60 mins
Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, pages 89-90

When a Table Beer was made with the weaker runnings, the hops from the strong Ale were re-used, being boiled 2 to 3 hours. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 91.)

Yeast was pitched 53º F in winter, 51º F in summer. Around 2 pounds of yeast per barrel was pitched. During fermentation, the temperature of the wort increased by 12º to 15º F. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 149.)

"Scottish brewers make no use of isinglass for finings; nor do I believe they have any occasion to employ such agents as flour and salt in order to stimulate fermentation ." (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 150.)

Roberts gives an example of a £5 (100/-) Ale. Twenty quarters of malt were added to 32 barrels of water at 180º F. It was mashed with oars for 45 minutes then covered and left to stand for 2 hours 45 minutes. The tap was opened to run off the wort and at the same time sparging began with 32 barrels of water at 190º F. The wort run off was at 148º F. After 3.5 hours 48 barrels of wort at 1083º had been collected and the tap was closed. Another 15 barrels of water were sparged to make Table Beer. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, pages 149-150.)

160 pounds of East Kent hops were added to the wort in the copper and boiled briskly for 90 minutes. After cooling, 36 barrels of wort at 1103.5 were put into the gyle tun. It was pitched at a temperature of 50º F with 8.5 gallons of yeast. The wort remained in the tun for 13 days, the temperature rising to 63º F. It was then let down into the square at a gravity of 1043 and left there for 24 hours before cleansing into hogsheads. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 150.) By my calculation, that's about 8% ABV and 58% apparent attenuation.

10 barrels of Table Beer with a gravity of 1040º were also produced. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 151.)

There are a couple of major differences between the method Roberts describes and the practice in English breweries. There was just a single mash, as opposed to three or four. The volume of the water used to sparge was much greater. The yeast was pitched colder, 50º F rather than 60º F, which was more typical in England. The fermentation, at two weeks, was much longer. In England it rarely lasted even as long as seven days. From the mention of moving the wort from a tun to a square, it sounds as if Roberts was employing the dropping system of fermentation.

Oatmeal Stout

Having died out sometime in the 1960's (probably - don't quote me on that), Oatmeal Stout has not only been resurrected, but is doing quite nicely.

You've probably all heard the story of how the recipe for Sam Smith's Oatmeal Stout was thrown together in the course of a few phone calls between Michael Jackson, Sam's head brewer and the American importer. With zero reference to any old recipes. Pure guesswork.

Can you guess what's coming? What were the original Oatmeal Stouts like and are they anything like Sam Smith's?

One thing's certain, during the first half of the 20th century there were plenty of them about. More, in fact, than was at first apparent. It all goes back to party-gyling, that favourite technique of many British breweries.

Whitbread, in particular, almost always party-gyled their Porter and Stouts. One of these beers being Oatmeal Stout. Which is why during the 1920's and 1930's pretty well all their Stouts contained oats. In fact the LOS (London Oatmeal Stout) was identical to LS (London Stout). Same ingredients, same gravity, fermented in the same tun. 100% identical. I suppose the label was different.

It's even curiouser at Fuller's. They weren't claiming to be making an Oatmeal Stout, but their Porter and Brown Stout both contained oats. Quite small amounts - about 0.6% of the grist - but still some. Hang on. That's the same as Whitbread's LOS. That had just 0.6% oats, too. I've just been looking at their final brew of Porter. It was party-gyled with LOS, so also had oats in it.

I guess the oatmeal character was pretty subtle. Otherwise drinkers would have noticed its presence in the other Stouts. And the amount used was tiny. The most I've found was just 3% of the total grist. I wonder what exactly the point was? And how does that compare with modern Oatmeal Stout recipes? My guess would be that they use much more. Antone know for sure?

Fuller's OBE

One of the handy things about looking through brewing logs in the brewery, is that you have someone to ask questions. It can simplify things considerably. I'd guessed that OBE didn't stand for Order of the British Empire. John Keeling was able to explain its meaning. Old Burton Extra.

It's one of the beers I'd wanted to find. Fuller's Burton. A strong, dark Ale that was replaced by ESB in the early 1970's. The first occurence I found was in the 1935 brewing book. Where it was party-gyled with X and BO. I've no idea what BO was. It actually looks more like the gravity I would expect from a Burton - somewhere in the mid-1050's. These are the vital statistics of the three different beers:

________________OBE____BO_____X
gravity (lbs barrel)__24.40___20.20___11.74
gravity (OG)______1067.59__1055.95_1032.52
gravity (FG)______1019.94__1014.40_1007.76
ABV_____________6.30____5.50____3.28
apparent attenuation_70.49%__74.26%__76.15%

The OBE was unusual for a couple of reasons. For a start, only 2 barrels were brewed. Out of 515.5 barrels (453 of X, 60.5 of BO). Only the first wort was used. The fermentation was very fast for a beer of it's gravity. It was down to 1021.6º after just 48 hours, though it wasn't racked for another 3 days. It wasn't dropped into a square, but fermented all in an FV. Not surprising. Two barrels would barely cover the bottom of one of the settling squares.

Here are the full details of the fermentation:


These were the ingredients used:

English pale malt____26.67%
Australian pale malt__26.67%
Australian pale malt__23.16%
Chilean pale malt____3.51%
flake_____________14.47%
sugar____________5.52%

Of the sugar, the dark sugar "Intense" made up 1.46% of the grist. This was presumably solely responsible for the dark colour.

I keep thinking about the tiny batch size of just two barrels. Surely OBE couldn't have been a draught beer?

Whitbread's last Porter

It's quite sad, seeing the log of Whitbread's last Porter. I wonder if they realised that when they were brewing?

Like I said, brewed 9th September 1940. Which was during the Battle of Britain. The log has this note written on it in red ink:

"Air raid warnings:- 5.15 p.m. to 6.25 p.m.
AND 8.40 p.m. to 5.45 A.M."

Just 16 barrels were brewed. Though it was party-gyled with 600-odd barrels of LS and MS.

These are the beer's vital statistics:

OG 1028.80
FG 1007.50
ABV 2.82%
apparent attenuation 73.96%
0.84 pounds hops per barrel
6.9 pounds hops per quarter of malt
78% pale malt
6% brown malt
6% chocolate malt
5% dark sugar
4% pale sugar
0.64% oats

A bit weedy, as you can see. And no black malt. So does that prove black malt/roast malt are used in Porter, but not Stout? Not really, seeing as it was party-gyled with Stouts. What's intriguing is that Whitbread were late adopting black malt and see to have been early to ditch it as well. It wasn't in the 1928 Stout grists, either. Must check up exactly when they stopped using it.

Before anyone mentions it, I do realise Whitbread revived a Porter briefly in the 1990's. What I meant was: Whitbread's last Porter from Chiswell Street.

Fuller's fermentations 1910

I just can't leave this topic alone. Sorry about that. At least one of you finds it interesting, too. Reason enough for me to continue.

These are the other three beers I've found in the 1910 Fuller's brewing records, P (Porter), BS (Brown Stout) and PA (Pale Ale).

Just to recap, AK was dropped after 66 hours and fermentation took 159 hours, X was dropped after 12 hours and fermentation took 129 hours.


You can see a similar pattern. The PA had a longer, slower fermentation than the Porter and Brown Stout, 158 hours against 134 hours. It was also in the round much longer, 41.5 hours as opposed to 12. There was far less difference in the length of time spent in the settling squares: 122 hours for P and BS, 116.5 for PA.

There's not a huge difference in the attenuation of the different beers:

BS 71%
X 72%
P 75%
PA 78%
AK 80%

Though the AK and PA are the most attenuated.

The amounts of yeast used were:

BS 93 lbs for 98 barrels
X 136 lbs (Mann's yeast) for 183 barrels
P 87.5lbs (X brew 71 4th crop yeast) for 200 barrels
PA 318 lbs for 212 barrels
AK 122 lbs for 188.5 barrels

I'm not exactly sure what this tells us. Except that the fermentation of the Bitters - PA and AK - was quite different to the other beers.

The dropping system of fermentation

I'm such a populist. I should try choosing more obscure topics. Or you'll start calling me the Daily Star of beer blogs.

I was much intrigued by the dropping round and settling square kept as a museum piece in the Fuller's brewery. For one thing, it gave me chance to see exactly what an attemperator looked like. And the brewer, John Keeling, explained to me how it worked. He told me that the wort was usually dropped after 12 hours or so. The exact timing being determined by the type of head that had formed.

The Fuller's logs are full of information. Including complete fermentation details. And they tell you when the beer was dropped. Looking at their bog-standard X Ale, that's exactly what happened. It spent just 12 hours in the round. As did the Porter and Brown Stout. The PA stayed in the round longer, 41 hours. But the AK I have the log for was in the round 66 hours.


The fermentations for the PA and AK are quite different from those of the other beers. The majority took place in the round. About two thirds of the gravity drop was in the round. For the darker beers the fermentation had barely started when the wort was dropped into the square.

Could it be that time in the round was connected to the degreee of attenuation? The AK is the most fully-attenuated.

You'll notice that the fermentation of AK took considerably longer, despite it having a lower OG. Thirty hours longer, to be precise. Before you ask, both the X and AK were brewed at the same time of year. The AK was brewed on the 14th March 1910, the X 10th March 1910.

How Porter faded away

There are many reasons I like the Whitbread brewing logs. At least the ones that aren't handwritten. But one feature is really handy for me. The totals at the back. Broken down by beer per week, month and year. It makes seeing how much they brewed of any particular beer in a given year a piece of piss.

Pinning down an exact date British Porter died is proving tricky. I've seen various guesses. Mine was sometime during WW II. My trip to London last week kicked that one into touch. Fuller's were still brewing theirs in 1955. But did find some evidence of how Whitbread's Porter just faded away in the early 1940's.


Let's start in 1871, when Porter sales were already in decline. In the brewing year ending July 1872, Whitbread just short of 150,000 barrels of Porter and Stout, of which 127,641, or 85%, were Porter. The average batch size was 600-700 barrels. It was clearly a big seller for the brewery and an important product.

In the brewing year ending July 1923, around 170,000 barrels of Porter and Stout were brewed. But just 14,165, or 8.33%, were Porter. By July 1929, Porter production was down to 5,558 out of 85,000 barrels, or 6,5%. Ten years later, in 1939, just 3,810 barrels of Porter were brewed, or 3%.

The writing was on the wall. If you see the tiny amounts being produced, you wonder why they bothered so long. In 1928, Whitbread brewed around 200 barrels a week of Porter. So my guess would be that around 100 pubs were still stocking it. In the early months of 1939, it was down to around 100 barrels a week. By September 1939, it was a mere 40 barrels a week. There must have been no more than a couple of dozen outlets for Whitbread Porter left. It struggled on at that level for another year, until the final brew on September 9th 1940.

Undoubtedly, if Whitbread hadn't party-gyled everything, their Porter would have been discontinued earlier. There was a cull of the Stouts in 1940, the number being reduced from 5 to 2. SSS was dropped in March 1940 and ES (Extra Stout) in May 1940. Interestingly, production of ES never dropped as low as Porter, always remaining over 100 barels a week. My guess is that there was a sentimental attachment to Porter that kept it hanging on long after it made any commercial sense.

It's sad to see. Especially when I compare it to one of my own favourites, Dark Mild, which is slowly slipping beneath the sea in a similar style.

Fuller's AK 1910

Barely back from blighty and I've already processed some of the logs. OK, one log. It's a start.

I had to begin with AK. I've been dreaming of getting my hands on an AK log for so long. Just couldn't resist it.

Let's start with the ingredients:

malt:
75% pale malt
6% "Flaked"
19% sugar

Hops:
Darziel? 1908 6,67%
Oregon 1907 6,67%
Armold MK 1909 43,33%
de Laune? EK 1909 43,33%
hopping rate: 7.5 pounds per quarter, 1.43 pounds per barrel.

It was mashed at 150º F for 60 minutes, then stood for 25 minutes. It was sparged at 168º F. The strong wort was boiled for 105 minutes, the second wort for 2 hours.

The OG was 1045º and it was pitched at 60º F. The fermentation took 1 week, with the temperature of the wort reaching a maximum of 68.5º F. The wort was dropped into the settling square after 42 hours. The FG was 1008.9º, the ABV 4.8% and apparent attenuation 80%.

For purposes of comparison here are some other Fuller's beers from the same year:

X Mild OG 1052.5º, FG 1014.7º, ABV 5%. 5.5 lbs hops per quarter.
PA OG 1054º, FG 1012º, ABV 5.6%. 9.5 lbs hops per quarter.
Porter OG 1049º, FG 1011º, ABV 5.11%. 7 lbs hops per quarter.
Brown Stout OG 1069º, FG 1022º, ABV 6.5%. 7 lbs hops per quarter.

The AK was the weakest beer I've found for that year, 1910. So what have we found out, other than that it was pretty weak? Well it was quite highly hopped. Only the PA had a greater hopping rate. And it was highly attenuated. The AK at PA stayed around three times as long as other beers in the rounds before being dropped into the settling squares.

I'll be honest. There are no big surprises. It's much as I had expected. Now I need to look at some of the older logs. Why hadn't I done that yet? Because the older ones are totally handwritten and a lot more work to decipher. And it's always best to work from newest to oldest. The more recent logs are always easier to understand.

The Fuller's logs are very informative. They include a record of the fermentation, which many don't, including details of "dropping", "collecting" and "skimming". If you don't know what that "dropping" means, this excellent post from Zythophile should explain all.

London Metropolitan Archives

It's ages since my last visit to the LMA. Far too long. So much I wanted to photograph, so little time.

I hit the archive at 10:30. My plan was to leave at about 14:00. I spent the time waiting for the first 5 manuals to be brought up from the storeroom filling in slips for the other ones I wanted to peruse. This was my pre-prepared list of logs to check out:


Barclay Perkins
Porter - 1805, 1812, 1851, 1856
Ale - 1890, 1900
Lager -


Whitbread
Ale - 1914-1919, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961
Porter - 1851, 1861, 1871, 1881, 1891, 1901, 1910, 1923, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961


Truman
Ale - 1871, 1881, 1891, 1901, 1910, 1914-1919, 1923, 1933, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961
Porter - 1871, 1881, 1891, 1901, 1910, 1914-1919, 1923, 1933, 1939-1946, 1951, 1955, 1961

Not that ambitious, really.

Last time I tried to visit the archive, December last year, it was closed for building work. I noticed why. Tghe interior has been completely remodelled. Very nice it is, too. Almost as posh as the Amsterdam city archive.

After I collected a volume I heard one of the friendly women behind the counter ask a colleague: "What's a gyle book?" "No idea". A few minutes she came up to me and politely enquired "What exactly is a gyle book? We've never come across them before." I explained that they were brewing records. It's an indication of how often anyone looks at these things that even the staff has no idea what they were.

I was snapping away at the Whitbread 1861 logs when disaster struck. My camera battery was flat. I used to have a spare. But then some idiot got drunk and left it on a train. Aagh! It was only 12:15. I could have got upset. But what use would that be? And I'll be in London again in a couple of weeks with the family. With a bit of cunning and planning, I should be able to create a window of a couple of hours at the archive.

Luckily, Stonch's pub his just around the corner. And the Pukelier was in excellent form. I soon forgot about my camera disaster. When Stonch gave me a bag of pork scratchings the transformation of my mood was complete. I reckoned that I had until 15:00 before I needed to start making my way to Liverpool Street station and eventually Stansted. Time for a pint or two.

Just drinking cask beer is a treat in itself for me. Drinking really nice cask beer is even better. Old Puke really is the perfect session beer. Just 5.6% ABV. And the low carbonation means it just slips down. I'd had five by 14:45. Didn't want to overdo it. Was there time for another? Not really. "Half of Puke please. And a double Laphroaig."

I won't bore with a description of visiting Tesco to buy pies and mini scotch eggs. Or the thrill of hanging around the airport. Not even the luxury of a fully-booked Easyjet flight.

It was pissing it down when we touched down. No, my mood still hadn't been ruined. Then there was the look on the little faces of the kids when they saw the pork pies. Bless them.

Tesco Drinks Challenge

Second day in London, I was judging for the Tesco Drinks Challenge. I did it last year, too. It's becoming a regular gig.

The judging takes at the Workx, in a room that looks like an operating theatre. Everything is white. The day kicked off with tea and coffee and a short talk on how we were meant to judge. "Just give your own opinion." No problem for me. I always give my personal opinion.

My group had 21 beers to judge. It should have been 22, but one wasn't there for some reason. It did sound interesting, the missing beer. Or rather, quite odd. It was a Stout with mangoes and other weird stuff amongst the ingredients. That was a change from last year. The tasting form included a list of ingredients. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not. At least we weren't left wondering what the weird taste was in the beer with sherry.

Most of the beers were fairly well straight down the middle. Only one was really duff, tasting like celery. But nothing was really great, either. A couple were fairly decent. I would have had several glasses of a tasty strong Stout, but someone else had already polished it all off. There was plenty of the crap one left, though.

The social aspects are one of the reasons I travel to the UK for the tasting. At lunch I sat next to Martyn Cornell, a bloke from the Durden Park Beer Circle, whose name escapes me, and Dale. I'm so used to that glazed eye look when I start talking about old brewing manuals that it's a shock not only to get a response, but an interesting and informed one. I picked up a few good tips about books to look out for. Best not mention it to Dolores. They're likely to be pricey. I hadn't realised that Loftus had authored more than just "The Brewer". There was much praise for Roberts and it seems his is the earliest detailed description of IPA brewing. You lucky devils. I gave you an abridged version a couple of posts back.

Did I mention that the tasting took place in Parsons Green? All of 200 metres from the White Horse. No prizes for guessing where we headed after lunch. I get so little chance to have hardcore beer history discussions with real live people. I certainly wasn't going to pass one up. Once again, the gaps in my own knowledge were highlighted. I've said this before, but it's worth repeating: the more I learn about beer and brewing, the more I realise how little I know.

Most of my fellow judges had to rush off for other appointments. At least that's what they told me. It could be that I have personal hygiene issues. Robbed of fellow obsessives to obsess with, it was time for the second activity of the day. I set off for Clerkenwell.

I've come to know the area around Stonch's pub well, what with the London Metropolitan Archives being just a few hundred yards away. And the site of Reid's Griffin brewery is just at the top of the street. Exactly the sort of places I lurk around. But I'd never even noticed the pub before, tucked away off a side street of Clerkenwell Road.

Stonch wasn't there when I arrived. So I ordered a Landlord and got ready to wait. But first I needed a wedge. When I returned from the bog, Tim Hampson was in the bar. He'd been in the White Horse when I left. What a coincidence. It turned out there was a British Guild of Beer Writers committee meeting planned. Small world.

This may be coming across as an exercise in name-dropping. I guess it is. Funny thing is, during the four years I lived in London, I never bumped into anyone I knew. All drinking sessions with friends had to be meticulously planned several months in advance. Now I was falling over people I knew left right and centre.

Stonch looked surprised when he entered the bar. He'd forgotten about the committee meeting. I'd hoped to have chance for a decent chat after the committee disappeared upstairs to their meeting. I would have, if customers hadn't kept annoyingly insisting on asking to be served drinks. Where did they think they were? In a public bar? Oh shit, they were. Stonch as landlord takes some getting used to. Though he did look the part, leaning on the handpumps and bantering with the punters.

It's time to drop another name. James. James Whitbread. Yes, one of those Whitbreads. Standing next to a descendant of the family that had originally brewed my Porter and SSS was pretty weird. Seems he's a regular there. Soon the Old Puke was flowing and the conversation rambling. I suggested he started a brewery. Funnily enough, that thought had crossed his mind more than once.

Now I could start throwing around several more names. But I've juggled enough already in this post. So I'll leave it there. I doubt you would recognise many or care if you did. I left early, around 8 o'clock. There was a hard day's archiving ahead of me. I wanted to be up early and at my best. I know. I find it hard to believe, too.

Fullers Griffin Brewery

I was so excited. A chance to look around London's last proper brewery, at the invitation of no less than the brewing director. And, most importantly for me, an opportunity to cast my eye over their brewing records.

I hadn't expected the head brewer, John Keeling, to be around. He'd warned me that he'd be away on jury duty at the Old Bailey. Fortunately for me, he'd been excused. The judge had recognised the important work a brewer does.

We started of in John's office, accompanied by Derek Prentice, one of the other brewers, a veteran of Young's and Truman's. John showed me one of their old brewing logs, from 1906, that he keeps in his office. And there it was. On the second page I turned to. An AK log.

Let me explain. AK is one of my major obsessions, up there with Gose and Broyhan. What exactly was AK? What did AK stand for? At last I was going too have at least the first of those questions answered.

John and Derek were very kind and patient in explaining how they do things at Fullers. I'm just a thick amateur, after all. What they are doing with Prize Old Ale is particularly fascinating. As someone who was extremely disappointed with the last Gale's bottling (none of my 10 bottles had any trace of carbonation), I was very pleased with the way they are now handling it. The batch that's currently in the shops was fermented at Gales, in their unlined wooden fermenters. Then shipped to Chiswick and left to mature for two years. When it was bottled, forty barrels were left in the maturation tank. The next batch, which will be brewed in Chiswick, will be mixed the old forty barrels to retain the genuine Gale's character. It's basically a solera-type system.

What's the Gale's character? Brettanomyces, basically, picked up from the wooden fermenters. I asked John if he was worried about having brett around. "No, we have good control. But a couple of years ago I would have given you a different answer." He was very enthusiastic about Prize Old Ale and clearly very proud of the new version. And so he should be. It's a cracking beer. And not something anyone else is really doing, with the possible exception of Greene King with their 5X, though that just ends up in a filtered and pasteurised blend.

One of the nice things about the brewery, is that when the equipment has been modernised, they've left an example of the old kit in situ. I've spent much time recently reading about old brewing equipment. Far more than is healthy. Sometimes, it's quite hard to visualise what it looked like, even when there are illustrations. Now here was an old-fashioned mash tun right in front of me. Aaah. That's what an underback looks like. And there's a Steele's masher. I'd expected something larger.

John started his working life at Wilson's, the Watney-owned brewery in Manchester. By the 1980's, they were using 40% raw barley. I imagine working at Fuller's is a good bit more fulfilling. He told me that they've stopped using caramel for colour adjustment, preferring now either chocolate malt or a malt syrup.

John explained the advantages of party-gyling. The main one is efficiency. Virtually no extract goes to waste. Which is I guess why it was so popular in Victorian times. And mixing the two worts in different combinations makes hitting the target gravity a piece of piss.

After 45 minutes with John, it was becoming clear to me just how tenuous my grasp of the technicalities of brewing was. From the old copper they've kept, I learned exactly what's meant by a "domed copper". He explained it's purpose and the need for a good, vigorous boil.

After reading Zythophile's article on the topic, I was particularly keen on seeing the dropping system fermenter. And an impressive sight it is, too. A towering, wooden round with a shallow copper square ("settling square") beneath it. The wort spent quite a short period in the round - around 12 hours - before being dropped into the square. The brewer determined the exact time by the look of the head.

Since the 1970's conical fermenters have been used for primary fermentation. There had been problems with the old squares. They were getting knackered and the attemperators kept springing leaks. And they were difficult to clean. About the difference in the beer produced by the different fermenters, John was very clear. "The best beer came from the open fermenters. But also the worst. The average standard is far better from the conicals." All the prizes Fuller's have won have been with beer fermented in conicals.

Initially, the conicals were used for keg and bottled beer and the open fermenters for cask. But when they experimented with cask beer in the conicals, they immediately won Champion Beer of Britain at the GBBF. So they swapped the cask to the conicals and the keg to the open fermenters.

I asked John about the yeast used in the conicals. Their old yeast, he told me, had been a combination of three strains. They had selected the most suitable for the new fermenters. It also turned out to be the one that was most responsible for the Fuller's taste.

When we'd finished the tour, John took me to the old head brewer's house. The cellar is used to store their old records. And the chairman's beer and wine. I was left to peruse and photograph the logs for as long as I wanted. The logs go back to at least the 1880's. The handwriting is quite a challenge in the older ones. I made a quick trawl throgh the decades: 1880, 1897, 1908, 1923, 1935, 1949, 1955, 1962 and 1968. I think that's it. I've not had chance to look at the photo's properly yet.

I was gobsmacked to find they were still brewing Porter in 1949. I thought it had died out in WW II in Britain. Even more surprising was that they were still brewing it in 1955. (Jumping ahead, a couple of days later I pinned down the exact demise of Whitbread Porter: the last brew was September 9th 1940.) I also spotted a beer enigmatically called OBE. I asked John what the initials stood for. "Old Burton Extra." Oh, oh. I almost danced with excitement. Fuller's Burton, which was replaced by ESB in the early 1970's. And one of the beers I had most hoped to find in the logs.

When I'd taken enough photos in the cellar (after about two hours), John took me along to the brewery tap to continue our chat over a few beers. I'd been longing to try their beer aged in whisky barrels. After much wrangling with the excise men, it's just about ready for release. The upside to these problems is that the beer stayed in the casks longer than intended. The extra time in the barrel has added a delicious vinous element, in addition to the whisky notes that you would expect. And a touch of brettanomyces character, too. What can I say? A top beer, unlike any other whisky-barrel beer I've tried. Hopefully, it will be in the shops soon.

John was very enthusiastic about barrel ageing. He's been very pleased by how much the beer had developped while in the cask. The real changes only started kicking in after 6 months to a year in the cask.

What he'd told me about Prize Old Ale had me drooling earlier. I wasn't disappointed. Certainly tart, but not at the expense of balance. And the lively carbonation really lifts it, making it disconcertingly drinkable for a beer of its strength. A proper Old Ale. I need to check if they have any in Bierkoning. John's clearly very proud of it. I think he's got a world-beater.

Almost a perfect day. True, I did get soaked to the skin on the walk from the tube station. But that didn't dampen my spirits in the slightest.

Brewing equipment 1815 - 1850

I've told you plenty about ingredienst and brewing techniques. Now it's time to take a look at the equipment they used. New developments such as mashing machines and refrigerators were starting to give larger breweries a distinct advantage over their smaller competitors and domestic brewers. They enabled big brewers to brew more quickly, more efficiently, in any weather and to have a much greater degree of control over the fermentation process.


Brewing equipment
That they weren't keen on a wood taste getting into the beer is clear. This is how wood used in the construction of vessels was treated: "English or Hamburgh oak, and Dantzic deal, ought to be seasoned twelve months at least previous to manufacture; subesequently undergo a thorough seasoning of salt, quick lime, and boiling liquor; and, finally, of malt dust, spent hops, and boiling liquor, that it may imbibe as little of the taste of the new timber as possible." (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 9.)

The following equipment could be found in a modern brewery of the period.

Liquor-back. Made of cast-iron and situated in the roof of the brewery. A capacity of at least 10 barrels per quarter of malt used in a brew was recommended. An exposed position was not a disadvantage: "let the liquor come from whatever source it may, it will certainly be much improved by being exposed to the sun and air"(Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 7.)

Copper. There were two basic types: open and domed. Thet were made from thick copper and were twice as wide as they were deep. Often breweries had two coppers: the liquor copper, used to heat the water for mashing and the boiling-off which was used for boiling wort. The liquor copper needed a capacity of 3 barrels for every quarter of malt mashed, the boiling-off copper two barrels per quarter. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 8.)

Mash tun. It was constructed, like a barrel, from wooden staves bound by iron hoops. The staves were two inches thick and made of oak, the bottom of two inch Dantzic deal. Oak was not suitable for the bottom of the tun as it would be warped by the hot water used for mashing. There was false bottom made of cast-iron and four or five taps with a two-inch bore above the underback. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 9.)

Sparger. This was in common use in Scottish breweries and had already spread to England. It consisted of a horizontal tube with holes along its whole length. It was suspended above the mash tun and rotated about a central axis. A tube, connected to the water supply, was fastened to it. The holes were positioned so that the water came out of them horizontally and propelled the tube around its axis. In this way it automatically distributed the water equally over the whole surface of the grains. (Source: "The Theory and Practice of Brewing" by W.L. Tizard, London, 1846, pages 184-185.)

Underback. This was also made of oak with a Dantzic deal bottom. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 9.)

Hop-back. Square and constructed of Dantzic deal with a cast-iron bottom. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 10.)

Coolers. Made from Dantzic deal, with 6-inch deep sides and placed at a slight angle to help drain off the wort. The wood was given a smooth finish to minimise places for dirt to accumulate. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 10.)

Refrigerator. If used, only half the number of coolers were needed. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 10.)

Gyle tuns. Made from 3-inch English oak. One type was square. Another was round, airtight and fitted with a safety valve to allow excess CO2 to escape. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 10.)

Attemperators. Pipes fitted inside gyle tuns through which cold water was passed to control the temperature of the wort. It was attemperotor and refrigerators that allowed large breweries to brew all year.

Cleansing casks. Rather than putting retail casks on stillions for cleansing, special cleansing casks, holding around six barrels were sometimes used. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 11.)

Stillions. "Stillions are to be built three inch Dantzic deal, a whole plank in depth, bottom one inch and half, and about two inches wider at the top than at bottom, which ought to be for barrels 18 inches wide, 21 inches for hogsheads, 24 inches for puncheons, and so on in proportion for larger or smaller casks: the widths here recommended ar favourable to filling up witth clean beer, and to contain the yeast; a side plug-hole is necessary to draw off the beer, bored with a taper bit; the hole inside to be within about three quarters of an inch of the sole edge or bottom, to keep back the yeast; another hole of 3 inches in the bottom, to get the yeast out; and the stillion laid to a current of one inch to ten feet." (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 11.)

Settling back. A shallow vessel, six inches deep, in which beer from the stillions was left to clear before being used to top up the cleansing casks. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 11.)

Vats. Made from 1.5 to 2 inch English oak. Vats of various sizes were needed for a variety of purposes: ageing strong Ale and Stout, blending worts from different brews, or mixing worts of different quality. They varied in size between the volume of one and three brews. Vats could be filled several times without cleaning out the lees, especially with Porter or Stout. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, pages 11-12.)

Casks were cleaned by filling with boiling water and being left to stand for 15 minutes, rolling occasionally. At the end of the process they were rinsed with cold water and left, without bungs, to dry. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, pages 12-13.)

Rake mashing machine
The first type of mashing machine, invented 1807, was the rake masher. It replaced men working with oars to mix the malt and water. Not only did it save on labours costs, it also mixed more quickly and more thoroughly, helping increase the efficiency of the mash. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, pages 39.)

Hops 1815 - 1850

I was very pleased to find some statistics on where hops were produced. It seems little has changed over the last couple of centuries. Though there were small amounts produced all over England, the overwhelming majority came from Sussex, Kent, Hereford and Worcester.


Hops
The hop harvest was very inconsistent. The plant was susciptible to damage from cold winds, night frost, pests and disease. Goldings were the most tender. Canterbury and Flemish hops were hardier. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 28.) The price for hops could vary wildly, because of the uncertain nature of the harvest. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 29.)

About two thirds of hops were grown in either Kent or Sussex. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 30.) In 1819, based on the duty charged on hops, the following were the districts producing the largest quantity of hops:

Sussex__________32.1%
Rochester (Kent)___30.01%
Canterbury (Kent)__21.19%
Essex___________0.96%
Hereford_________8.21%
Lincoln__________2.03%
Sarum__________1.98%
Worcester________1.86%

Kent, Sussex and Hereford & Worcester between them produced 93% of the total crop. (Source: "The Spirit, Wine Dealer's and Publican's Guide", by Edward Palmer, London, 1824 pages 247-249.)

The hops a brewer used were not necessarily local. As very few were grown in most parts of the country, this isn't surprising. In Scotland, the preference was for those from Kent, which accounted for 90% of the hops used in Edinburgh. (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 46.)

Yearling hops - those more than 12 month old - were less valuable, selling for 25-30% less than fresh hops. "However carefully they be preserved, this effect will ensue, and, indeed, they will have lost so much of their aroma, as to be unfit to be used for the finer kind of ales." (Source: "Scottish Ale Brewer", WH Roberts, Edinburgh, 1847, page 46-47.)

Hops were packaged in two different ways, according to their type. Pale, fine-flavoured hops were packed into sacks called pockets that contained approximately 1.5 cwt (168 pounds). These were mostly purchased by Ale brewers. Strong-flavoured hops came in sacks made of a coarser material called bags, which contained around 3 cwt (336 pounds). Porter and Small Beer brewers were the main buyers of these. (Source: "A Practical Treatise on Brewing" by William Chadwick, 1835, page 16.)

To try to prevent hops losing their bitterness, on arrival at the brewery the pockets or bags could be pressed in screw frame, reducing them to two-thirds of their original size. (Source: "Brewing and Distillation" by Thomas Thomson and William Stewart, Edinburgh, 1849, page 172)

Types of hops

North Clay Hops, were grown on the heavy clay soils of Nottinghamshire and had a "rank" flavour that was highly-prized by some brewers. As the flavour was slow to fade, they were often used in strong Keeping Beers. (Source: "A Practical Treatise on Brewing" by William Chadwick, 1835, page 17.) "A strong and rank hop, fit only for porter-brewing, when mellowed by age." (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 29.)

Kent Hops were one of the better, more expensive kinds. (Source: "A Practical Treatise on Brewing" by William Chadwick, 1835, page 17.)

Golding hops were the best flavoured, but difficult to grow as they were particularly tender. They were mostly grown around Farnham in Surrey. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 29.)

Farnham Hops, were the most expensive and had a delicate flavour. Not everyone was convinced that they were worth the extra that they cost. "Farnham hops, however deserving the reputation they bear, are by no means worth the difference in price given for them" (Source: "A Treatise on Brewing", Richardson.)

Worcester Hops were the mildest. (Source: "A Practical Treatise on Brewing" by William Chadwick, 1835, page 17.)

Flemish hops had a large flower, but a low weight and had a flavour unsuitable for Ales. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 29.)

The Canterbury Grape was another well-flavoured variety grown extemsively in Ket and Sussex. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 29.)

The best way to store hops was somewhere dry, closely packed together to exclude the air, which would evaporate the aromatic oils. (Source: "A Practical Treatise on Brewing" by William Chadwick, 1835, page 18.)

Levesque recommends matching the colour of hop to the colour of the beer being brewed: "In hopping your beers, use brown hops for brown beer, and pale coloured hops for all pale beers" (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 32.) He also believed hops should not be used too fresh: "New hops should not be brewed until after Christmas, except with a portion of old." (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 32.)

Hop dust was used, too. Costing about a quarter of the price of whole hops, a pound of dust was the equivalent of four pounds of whole hops. A proportion could be used in brown and common beer without adversely affecting flavour. (Source: "The Art of Brewing and Fermenting" by John Levesque, 1836, page 33.)