John Smith acquisitions (part two)

The map of Simonds brewery purchases was so revealing, I’ve decided to do the same for John Smith.

And blow me, as soon as I looked at it, I noticed something. Again, it’s to do with major transport routes. While Simonds takeovers followed the Great Western Railway east to west, John Smiths mostly went north and south. Approximately following the A1 and East Coast mainline. Take a look:

Black: original brewery

Green: <= 1920

Red: 1930 – 1945

Orange:  > 1950

Though in addition there’s a little leakage over the Pennines to Lancashire.

I’m definitely going to continue with this. It’s so revealing.

Simonds Dark Ales 1948 – 1960

I seem to have accidentally started writing a history of the Big Six. How on earth did that happen?

Tracing exactly how they formed is fascinating. Like watching the solar system assemble itself. You can see that takeover targets weren’t random, but were chosen carefully. You didn’t want to get too much overlap in pub estates. But that doesn’t mean there weren’t choices.

J W Green and Simonds covered much of the same territory. It’s quite possible that Whitbread could have bought Simonds and Courage J W Green. Would that have made any difference in the long term? Probably not. But it would have made the 1970’s and 1980’s somewhat different. 

I’d love to know if they would have made the same brewery decisions. Meaning, would Courage have built a new brewery in Luton? Would Whitbread have replaced Simonds brewery with one outside Reading? Maybe Courage would have closed J W Green’s Luton brewery and kept open Flowers Stratford one.

Apologies for rather wandering off topic there. I’m supposed to be telling you about the Dark Ales of H & G Simonds. It shouldn’t take too long. It better hadn’t. I’ve things to do, beer to drink, mindless TV to watch.

We’re starting with Brown Ale. The table also has a Strong Ale randomly included. For no reason other than I didn’t know where else to put it. There’s something quite unusual about the first couple of Brown Ales in the table. See if you can spot it.

Simonds Brown Ale and bottled Strong Ale 1948 - 1960
Year	Beer	Style	Price per pint d	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	colour
1948	Brown Ale	Brown Ale	15	1026.3	1006.7	2.54	74.52%	40 + 8.5
1949	Brown Ale	Brown Ale	15	1026.1	1008	2.34	69.35%	23 + 40
1950	Berry Brown Ale	Brown Ale	15	1029.5	1007.3	2.88	75.25%	10 + 40
1951	Brown Ale	Brown Ale	18	1029.2	1009.6	2.53	67.12%	19 + 40
1952	Berry Brown Ale	Brown Ale	19	1032	1005.5	3.44	82.81%	5 + 40
1952	Brown Ale	Brown Ale	18	1029.9	1009.7	2.61	67.56%	17 + 40
1956	Berry Brown Ale	Brown Ale	16	1031.9	1011.9	2.58	62.70%	85
1960	Berry Brown Ale	Brown Ale	20	1035.1	1015.7	2.50	55.27%
1953	Old Berkshire Strong Ale	Strong Ale	43.5	1076.7	1033.2	5.61	56.71%	16 + 40
Sources:
Which Beer Report, 1960, pages 171 - 173.
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002.

What’s odd? They have an OG below 1027º. That’s a very cost-ineffective way to brew. Because a beer under 1027º paid tax as if it were 1027º. Simonds paid more tax than they needed to on those beers. I suspect that they’d aimed for 1027º, but undershot.

I’m pretty sure that they’re all the same Brown Ale, despite the two names. Which makes it odd how variable they are in terms of attenuation and colour. You can see that the gravity rose between 1948 and 1960, but ironically the ABV didn’t. Very strange.

All I’ll say about the Strong Ale is that because of the crap attenuation, it wasn’t really all that strong.

Now it’s the turn of Mild Ale.

Simonds draught Mild Ale 1950 - 1951
Year	Beer	Style	Price per pint d	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	colour
1950	Ale	Mild	12	1030.4				56
1951	Mild Ale	Mild	14	1032	1005.5	3.44	82.81%	80
1951	Mild Dark Sweet	Mild	14	1031.5	1005.7	3.35	81.90%	80
Source:
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002.

Only three examples this time. The one from 1950 isn’t properly dark. But dark enough to be easily distinguished from Bitter. The other two have quite a high ABV for their gravity, due to the high degree of attenuation. I can’t really see how the last one could be that sweet.

Pale Ales next.

Light Ale in 1960

One of the up and comers, style-wise, of the post-war period was Light Ale. Benefitting from the surge in popularity of bottled beer, it became one of the most popular types of beer.

Its origins go back to the early Running Pale Ales of the late 19th century. The first Pale Ales were all Stock Ales, matured for months before sale. But after 1850 a new lighter, style emerged that was drunk fresh. Cheaper and more accessible, these beers soon picked up a following. Initially draught beers, soon bottled version began to appear under a variety of different names: Luncheon Ale, Light Dinner Ale, Dinner Ale, Light Bitter.

By the middle of the 20th century, Light Ale began to consolidate its position as the standard name for this type, though other terms did continue to be used. Including simply Pale Ale, which makes things confusing. Where does Light Ale stop and Pale Ale begin? It’s almost as impossible to define as the difference between IPA and Pale Ale. Ultimately, I usually go with the brewer’s designation.

That’s not what Which? did, as the table below will make clear. They’ve included beers with gravities almost up to 1040º, which seems too high to me. I’d have placed the cut off at around 1034-1035º. Note that none of the examples over 1035º are actually called Light Ale.

I’m surprised that the bitterness level isn’t that much lower than for bottled strong Pale Ales. They averaged 32.8 as compared to 26.33 for Light Ales. But the average gravity of the Pale Ales was much higher, 1048º. And Hammonds Prize Medal at 38 was just one point behind the most bitter bottled Pale Ale.

The two tables have many similarities. Like the price per % ABV: 6.56d and 6.58d. Remove the expensive Export Golden Mead Ale and the average price per pint is pretty similar, too: 20.0d and 20.8d. It’s odd that, despite both tables having rates of attenuation all over the shop, the average for both isn’t far from the gold-standard 75%.

I saw an American tourist drinking a bottle of Light Ale in a UK airport 20-odd years ago. He looked rather confused. I assume he’d asked for a Light Beer.

Table time.

Light Ale in 1960
Brewer	Beer	Price per pint d	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	Index of Hop Bitter	price per % ABV
Georges	Bitter Ale	18	1031.5	1006.1	3.30	80.63%	24	5.46
Ushers	India Pale Ale	18	1031.6	1008.5	3.00	73.26%	25	6.00
Friary Meux	Friary Ale	20	1030.6	1009.7	2.70	68.30%	27	7.40
Strong	Golden Ale	20	1030.7	1006.1	3.20	80.29%	22	6.25
Simonds	SB. Light Ale	20	1034.2	1009.5	3.20	72.22%	32	6.25
Fremlins	Elephant Light Ale	21	1031.0	1006.4	3.20	79.52%	32	6.56
Younger, Wm.	Younger's Pale Ale	22	1032.3	1006.2	3.40	80.96%	16	6.48
Hammond	Prize Medal	22	1036.3	1005.6	4.00	84.57%	38	5.51
Wilson	Wembley Ale	22	1036.9	1007.7	3.80	79.27%	28	5.79
Greenall Whitley	Champion Pale Ale	22	1038.9	1012.6	3.40	67.61%	32	6.47
Tolly Cobblold	Tolly Extra Quality Light Ale	24	1035.3	1010.6	3.20	69.97%	23	7.51
Hope & Anchor	Export Golden Mead Ale	30	1037.4	1011.9	3.30	68.18%	17	9.09
Average		21.6	1033.9	1008.4	3.31	75.40%	26.33	6.56
Source:
Which Beer Report, 1960, pages 171 - 173.

Light Ale in 1960
Brewer	Beer	Price per pint d	Acidity	OG	FG	ABV	App. Atten-uation	colour	price per % ABV
Brickwoods	Light Bitter Ale	20	0.02	1031.2	1008.8	2.80	71.79%	22	7.14
Cheltenham & Hereford Brewery	Cheltenham Ale	18	0.02	1032.1	1007.6	3.06	76.32%	25	5.88
Norman & Pring	Pale Ale	20	0.02	1031	1003.8	3.40	87.74%	15	5.88
Starkey, Knight & Ford	Tivvy Pale Ale	20	0.02	1030.5	1005.1	3.18	83.28%	28	6.30
Strong	Golden Ale	22	0.02	1031.8	1006.3	3.19	80.19%	16	6.90
Stroud Brewery	Allbright Ale	18	0.02	1030.9	1008	2.86	74.11%	25	6.29
Tennent	Pale Ale	20	0.02	1029.9	1011.8	2.26	60.54%	26	8.84
Tomson & Wotton	Allbright Pale Ale	20	0.02	1029.9	1005.8	3.01	80.60%	18	6.64
Ansell	Triple Gold Light Ale	22	0.02	1039.1	1008.1	3.87	79.28%	24	5.68
Fremlin	Elephant Light Ale	21	0.02	1031.5	1005.8	3.21	81.59%	23	6.54
Morland	Light Ale	19	0.04	1033.6	1009.5	3.01	71.73%	27	6.31
Average		20.0	0.02	1032.0	1007.3	3.08	77.02%	22.6	6.58
Source:
Whitbread Gravity book held at the London Metropolitan Archives, document number LMA/4453/D/02/002.

Draught Mild next.

H & G Simonds acquisitions

I am indeed continuing my Courage theme. Or rather, my theme of how the Courage group coalesced. And what better way to do that than with a table and a map?

Thicko that I am, I’ve only just realised that a map – or series of maps – is the best way to demonstrate how the group was assembled. I’d been fairly certain that all Simonds acquisitions were West of London and the map confirms this.

They were very active in buying other breweries, with 17 purchases between 1930 and 1954. With the exception of the war, they averaged almost one a year. In doing so, they amassed quite an estate of tied houses. In 1896 they owned 158 pubs, but by 1916 that was already up to 316. When they were absorbed into the Courage group in 1960, their estate stood at around 1,200 pubs.  Or around one-fifth of the later Courage estate.

Looking at the map, something immediately struck me: a similarity with the map of the Great Western Railway I have hanging over my telly. Simonds expansion until 1950 mostly followed the Great Western mainline from Reading out towards Wales. While in the 1950’s it was in the extreme Southwest of England, in Devon and Cornwall, another branch of the GWR. Coincidence? I suspect not.

You can see why they made a very attractive takeover target for anyone wanting a presence in the West Country and South Wales. To Courage, very much centred on London and the Southeast, they offered an easy route to total coverage of the South. When John Smiths was added in 1970, pretty much all of England was covered.

Like J W Green, Simonds seem to have run out of breath in the mid-1950’s and just coasted along for a few years until themselves being gobbled up. What was the reason? Personal? Financial? Or both? I’ll need to dig a bit deeper.

These are the breweries Simonds took over in handy table form:

H & G Simonds acquisitions
year	brewery	address	tied houses	closed
1919	George Crake Tamar Bry	Plymouth	28	1975
1919	Mackeson & Co. Ltd.	Hythe		1929
1920	South Berks Brewery Ltd. West Mills Brewery and Atlas Brewery	Newbury	150/200	1920/1930
1930	Ashby’s Staines Bry Ltd	Staines	185	1931
1930	Wheelers Wycombe Brys Ltd	High Wycombe	148	1931
1931	Newbury Bry Co Ltd	Newbury
1935	W J Rogers Ltd	Bristol		1952
1938	Cirencester Bry Ltd	Cirencester	90	1937
1937	Lakeman’s Bry	Brixham	50	1950
1938	R H Stiles	Bridgend	27	1937
1939	J L Marsh & Sons Ltd	Blandford Forum	8
1945	R B Bowly & Co Ltd	Swindon	41	1945
1947	John May & Co Ltd	Basingstoke	90/100
1948	East Africa Brys	Nairobi, Kenya
1949	Phillips & Sons Ltd	Newport	125	1968
1951	R Grant & Sons	Torquay
1951	South Devon Brewery Ltd plus C W Blundell (Plymouth)	Union Road, Kingsbridge	25	1948
1953	Pool & Son Ltd	Penzance		1953
1954	Octagon Bry Ltd	Plymouth	50	1970
Sources:
"The Brewing Industry a Guide to Historical Records” by Lesley Richmond and Alison Turton, 1990, page 298.
"A Century of British Breweries plus" by Norman Barber, 2005, pages 3, 5, 22, 24, 25, 34, 35, 39, 45, 46, 118, 131 and 158

And here’s the map:




Black: original brewery
Green: <= 1920
Red: 1930 – 1945
Blue: 1945 – 1949
Orange:  > 1950

And, what the hell, here’s another table, too:

Simonds tied houses 1839 - 1916
year	tied houses
1839	37
1872	79
1896	158
1916	316
Sources:
"The Brewing Industry a Guide to Historical Records” by Lesley Richmond and Alison Turton, 1990, pages 297 - 298.

I’ve drawn up a map of the breweries John Smiths bought. That also tells a story.

Ten things you must know about Stockholm

1. I was there last week doing a bit of judging.

2. More people are growing beards. Mostly men.

3. It's going as brewery-crazy as everywhere. Despite a hostile environment.

4. You can survive on a cooked breakfast, beer and sausages.

5. The cask at Akkurat is more than decent. (Blind Tiger, I'm looking at you.)

6. It isn't as flat as Holland.

7. A combined beer and whisky festival doesn't necessarily incite anarchy.

8. Stockholm airport and Stockholm city aren't on the same planet. Barely in the same galaxy.

9. Dark Mild is available*.

10. If you're an unhealthily pale, blue-eyed pisshead, you'll always be addressed in Swedish.




* Sadly no trams or professional Rugby League, the other requirements of a civilised society.

Good beer in the 1950’s

Time for some more about the beers of Hammonds. Which seem to have been variable in quality.

The two breweries mentioned below were Bentley’s Old Brewery of Rotherham and John Richdale of Sheffield. Both pretty small concerns, with 55 and 25 tied houses, respectively. Well-established despite their modest size, the beers of these two breweries were soon swept aside.

"Both breweries closed soon after, and Tadcaster bitter was rammed down the throats of the locals without any warning; which was a pity, as Richdale in particular still had a good reputation and nostalgic following. But the spreading gospel in the brewing industry was that of central production, with breweries getting fewer and larger; it was more than an article of faith, it was dogma in the canon of the predator companies. After forty years it continues still, as strongly as ever, with its meretricious attraction."
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 44.

This was generally true of the takeover mania period. The beers from the smaller breweries that the big boys devoured usually disappeared, replaced by a few favourite corporate brands. There were occasional exceptions for particularly renowned beers. Barclay’s Russian Stout, for example. Or Mackeson Milk Stout. But, in general, the purchasing company wasn’t interested in the beers or often even the breweries. Just the pubs the brewery owned.

I wouldn’t have wanted Tadcaster Bitter rammed down my throat. I never rated the beers from that brewery. I assume that’s what was later called Brew Ten. A dull Bitter I avoided whenever possible. Big breweries – I’m looking at you here Whitbread – had an uncanny knack for retaining the worst beers and discarding the best.

It sounds as if Richdale had seen much better days:

"In their day, which was the first half of the Twentieth century, the names of Richdale and Bentley's were well known in Sheffield and Rotherham. Richdale, at the last Brewers Exhibition before the Second World War, achieved a success never before or after repeated by any company, namely, they won at the same time the Champion Awards for the best draught and the best bottled beers. Richdale's brewery had been then equipped to the highest standards and with the most modern machinery - and it was only of modest size. It was sad, in 1956, to walk round it and witness the dereliction and neglect; pumps for circulating cooling brine, when dismantled, were found to be totally corroded and solid with rust. In their last years of independence both breweries cast only the shadows of former local renown."
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 44.

That’s an impressive victory for a brewery with only a couple of dozen pubs.

Though Richdale’s beers weren’t all that they appeared:

"I recall walking round the brewery with Mr Morris and being astonished at the number of different draught and bottled beers produced, when the weekly output was so small. He took me aside with a "Look you, boyo" style and said they were all the same brew. First, you coloured some with a dose of caramel to darken it, so you had light and dark beers. Then you labelled some strong, some ordinary and some light bitter, and priced them accordingly - "and boyo, the customer never knows the difference". I was impressed; "Richdale's Rich Ales" indeed. Mr Morris sent indifferent beer to his best customers, the tied clubs, as a form of revenge, so there was constant aggravation; he loved it."
"The Brewing Industry 1950 - 1990", by Anthony Avis, 1997, page 45.

Quite a lot of this sort of thing seems to have gone on in the past. Using caramel to make different coloured versions of a beer was common. As was part-gyling – making more than one beer from the same mash. A combination of the two techniques allowed Barclay Perkins to market half a dozen Milds from a single basic recipe.

It still goes on today. Timothy Taylors Dark Mild is just Golden Best plus caramel. It wouldn’t surprise me if other Dark Milds were just Ordinary Bitter coloured up.

Richdale went one step further, pretending the same beer was ones of different strengths. A bit cheeky, but how was the customer to know when beer strengths weren’t made public? Short of taking a beer to be analysed, a drinker’s only clue to a beer’s strength was how quickly it got them pissed.

Plenty more tales from the brew house - and board room – courtesy of Anthony Avis to come.