Tuesday 18 June 2024

Parted

Sat in Silence, all alone
In the darkened bar.
No wise words to say.
Thoughts closing, from afar,
No ears to listen anyway.

All quiet, except for Him.
A hum. A sigh. A clink.
Flows fast into the glass.
Left down, but not to drink,
Not yet, he lets time pass.

Wet circles on Old wood.
Drooped shoulders shake now.
A worn-out hand’s embrace
Of Glass Is calming somehow.
Raised high as if in Grace.

Lips licked and eyes shut
That first taste, shocked,
New tears squeezed out.
Old memories unblocked,
Shaking, a breached Redoubt.

Gone. Passed. Left. Parted.
An empty stool, seat cold,
But pulled close, just in case.
He sits there fighting old,
Lost in Sorrow’s harsh embrace.

Liam K

Thursday 13 June 2024

Opinion: A Closer Look at Ireland's Oldest Pubs

For as long as I can remember, I’ve always loved written fiction.

First came those skinny hardcover books such as The Little Red Hen, Rapunzel, and Puss in Boots et al published by Ladybird, which were soon followed by the outlandish rhythmic writing of Dr. Suess and others. Even back then, books were for me a form of escapism on wet and dreary weekends, or dark weekday evenings. I’d sit in an armchair in the kitchen beside the always-lit stove, reading them repeatedly as my mind drifted into the scenes depicted on the pages, where I became a participant in whatever story was unfolding in the pages. Growing older I never lost that ability to fall into a book, even when the illustrations disappeared and were replaced by fanciful descriptions - my imagination coping admirably with the scene being painted as I read all of those well-chosen words. For a good few years I practically lived and dreamed in the world of Tolkien’s Middle Earth, as the incredible tales in all of his books had me wandering over shires and scrambling up snow-capped peaks, or getting lost in deep-dark places. That world, and others, were places to escape into and perhaps even exist in, however briefly. I quickly became a fan of science fiction too and I was strangely drawn to the worlds literally created by Bob Shaw for one. Alan Dean Foster, Terry Pratchett and other purveyors of pure and perfect fiction also graced my bookshelves over the years although in recent decades my fiction tastes have moved on - or perhaps evolved - towards those of a more historical bent, or those by writers such a John Connolly or James Lee Burke, whose books occasionally waver wonderfully into the world between the real and the supernatural, but I still occasionally dip back in the realm of pure fantasy in all of those books from my teenage years, most of which I still possess, as is the affliction of the Collector-stroke-Hoarder.

Fiction and fantasy have their place in our lives as a source of entertainment and diversion, they are useful for many of us as a form of escapist therapy and a way to cocoon yourself in the words and worlds of comfort and imagination. But they are only stories. For sure, some may be loosely based on fact or are anchored back to a real-life event, even though the story itself wanders to a made-up world where dragons take flight, elves and goblins are at constant war, and unicorns do, well, whatever unicorns do in these places, which is usually just to exist. But we know these stories and fairytales not to be true, as they are outlandish by nature, or speak of things we know to be false, and we are all okay with that and can easily discern the facts from the fiction. These are tales, and not mistruths.

The issue is with narratives that purport to be true, stories that are based on some fact but sadly don’t contain those dragons, unicorns or elves, which would mark them as pure fantasy. These are the stories which began as a misunderstanding or a little marketing-driven truth-stretching, and which are then repeated so often that they become fact to most people, or to a point where people don’t really question them or care if they are true or not.

Add to this the fact that we Irish have a wealth of old stories and ancient sagas both in print and in the oral tradition of storytelling, and we love to repeat and revel in them, as we really, really love a good mythical tale. Perhaps this goes part of the way to understanding the acceptance and non-questioning repetition of the tales and legends that surround Irish brewing, its output, and of course our public houses.

-o-

I know. We’ve been here before many times. I’ve repeated - although I’d argue for the word reinforced -  much of it to a small if patiently attentive audience previously. I’ve rattled a sabre and gnashed my teeth on how we really don’t care about our true brewing and pub history in this country, although that’s probably a little unfair as we have been fed those same stories for a few generations in some cases so they are now just ingrained. It also means that newer beer-related enterprises are happy enough to create a story around a brand as long as there is a hint of truth to it – fakelore has become the norm. I’m sure that similar issues exist in other countries but Ireland’s recorded brewing and beer history doesn’t appear to go back as far as that of other countries, so it therefore left a smaller mark on our social timeline and written works. Although some of our commercial breweries were established in the 1700s, many were formed in the mid-1800s, and our now remaining beer brands are a good deal younger. Prior to that I think our drinking history was quite attuned to wine and strong spirits, with commercial brewing being encouraged in this country from the 18th century to wean the native population off the latter. (That’s a bit of a generalisation and not to say we didn’t have a huge amount of beer here in the previous centuries, we probably did, but our love for it seems to have gone through in waves perhaps?) Many other countries appear again to have had more a longevity of commercial brewing as well as a greater number of actual breweries that survived up until relatively recently, where we have not. Plus, with the serving of that beer the history of their hostelries and inns presumably has a longer timeline than ours, with more recorded history too given larger populations and more publications. Very early drinking establishments here seem to have been fonder of serving beverages other than beer (although the obviously served some) thanks perhaps to the legacy of the Norman’s fondness for wine and our own need for whiskey, plus possibly the lack of decent beer at that time? It is certainly an area for separate research and study for a later date, but this might explain place names such as Winetavern Street in Dublin and why our public house organisation is known as The Vintners Association. (Even what I’ve written here is splattered with question marks and words like 'perhaps' to as there are certain things I can't say with 100% authority, mainly because I am not one.)

That depth of knowledge and the records that exist in other countries means that research and therefore the writing of their brewing history is a little easier than here. I’m sure many beer writers elsewhere would say there is not enough in their countries either, but in relative terms it appears (yet again) at least that it is easier to trace the history of breweries, pubs and beer in general elsewhere than on the island of Ireland. Here we have very few viewable brewing records, very little written history on breweries with the exception of the few bigger ones, and almost nothing with any detail on the history of inns and public houses apart from a couple of notable exceptions. Irish breweries have been reduced to a dubious brand within larger organisations, and the actual range of their output in the past has been forgotten or sometimes just ignored. The same is true of much of the beer retailing side of the sector, including the history and provenance of our public houses. Perhaps in other countries, the depth of their recorded history and facts means there’s less of a need to generate a heritage around a beer brand, recreate the past of a brewery, or embellish the history of a public house - although in truth the latter clearly seems to be an issue in other places as well as here, as I’m sure many will attest to.

Post-truth seems to many of us to be a new phenomenon in our culture and most think it has been forced upon us by social media and ersatz news feeds, but post-truth as a concept appears to have been around for quite a long time in regard to Irish brewing, and its ancillary dependents.

-o-

I’ve dealt with the stories generated around Irish brewing before, and specifically with those surrounding the now - sadly - closed Smithwick’s brewery in Kilkenny for example. A short summation of my findings based on the available (to me) information is that I can find no definitive published source to prove the assertion that John Smithwick started a brewery in Kilkenny in 1710, I fact I can only find evidence to the contrary. There is little doubt that there was a John Smithwick in Kilkenny at this time, he’s even buried there, but - for example - his descendant Walter Smithwick in a talk given the local archaeology society in 1960 stated that ‘there are no records to show his precise business’ in 1710 when he arrived in the city. The famous lease that is talked about with regard to the partnership between Richard Cole and John Smithwick does not appear in any common source, and the lease of the land by Cole (only) that is on display at the Smithwicks’s Experience clearly is for a site nowhere near the purported site of the brewery at that time, as it is for a site near the Black Abbey close to the Breagagh river. The well-respected history writer Thomas Halpin stated in 1989 in an article for the Old Kilkenny Review that here was ‘no evidence available as to how [a] mercantile partnership between Messrs. Cole and Smithwick progressed.’ We can also note that the famous 1710 date only appeared at the end of the 19th century, which seems late for such a date to be first mooted, especially considering the stored and accumulated knowledge within the family. The first mention of a Smithwick’s brewery is when Edmond acquired the site near St. Francis Abbey - although not the actual abbey itself - in 1827 and converted it from a distillery, which is what it was according to advertisements for its sale, into a brewery and began brewing beer there. There is often mention of the penal laws but Edmond and his father John before him (a grandson of the original John) were merchants and owned property without any issue up to this time. There is also evidence to suggest that the original John wasn’t a catholic anyway, so the penal laws would not have impacted him depending on when and if he converted of course. If we are looking for published proof about their being a Smithwick’s brewery in or since 1710 it appears to be entirely lacking.

The reason I bring this up (Again!) is because if there were definitive proof would it not be in the public realm? Instead of talking portraits on a wall of there would be, the less entertaining and marketable I’ll admit, peer-reviewed papers on the history of the brewery, or fully referenced books on the subject. If there are then I can find none, which doesn’t mean they don’t exist admittedly. Is the absence of evidence enough to say something isn’t true? That’s a question for wiser minds than mine to debate …

Now, what if we applied the same criteria for public houses and their founding dates? What are the facts, as published or recorded or reported, that the now-told history was originally anchored to? We need to base the discussion on those published facts as we know them, excluding those used purely for marketing purpose where there is no commonly known source or reference for said information. I am assuming that if there was a defined historical source for any of this information it would be being linked to and touted by those responsible for the marketing, there would surely be clearly referenced articles and probably books written about the history of these places too. I am not setting out to disprove anything I should say, I'm more so trying to lay out the information I have found for you to make up your own mind or continue the research from where I leave off. I will also make a few suggestions on what I think may have happened earlier in a buildings life but I will try my best to not gallop through the facts on a unicorn. As you have seen, I use the word 'perhaps' quite a lot ...

But first we - or I - need to set the criteria for what constitutes ‘oldest pub’, and for this exercise I can keep it as relatively simple as having much of its structure dating from the period it purports to be from, and to have been in pretty much continuous use as an establishment that served beverages from that date to the present day. The name can have changed, as can its general purpose, so an inn, tavern, hotel, etc. can all be taken as a place that served alcoholic drink. These are my criteria for this exercise although I am sure that others would have differing opinions, and 'much of its structure' is very much open to interpretation admittedly, but it can be assessed case by case. Either way it would be impossible to argue a point without some rules, and those seem the best compromise to my mind at least.

Perhaps an interesting analogy for my thought process is that if you plant a tree on the site of one you cut down or died, does it take on the years of the previous tree? Or is it in fact a new tree with its own growing to do ...

-o-

There is that grey area for many as to the question of whether a rebuilt pub is the age of its first founding versus the age it is from its last rebuild, and it can be seen as subjective in truth. A good example of this conundrum would be The Palace Bar in Dublin, which, by the way, is a wonderful example of an Irish urban pub. That establishment was completely rebuilt in 19001, with the then owner Patrick Hall operating from 1 Burgh Quay while it was being erected. The ‘complete transformation of the old establishment’ was done by July of the following year2 and it reopened ‘after rebuilding’ on the 10th of July 19013, making it Edwardian if one was to be a pedant about it, but certainly of late Victorian design and fair to be classed as that. This public house recently celebrated its bicentenary, and I don’t know of its complete earlier history, although there are plenty of mentions of it being a public house in the 19th century, and a Thomas Corcoran was letting it as ‘A Public House’4 as early as 1828 so the date of 1823 could well be correct for the site, even to there also seems to be a piano seller at that address at that date (But we must remember that these sites had more than one floor, so multiple business could exist at the same address.) Could it be argued that a centenary celebration in 2001 would have been more appropriate - and accurate - where the architecture and fittings from that truly wonderful era at the turn of the century could be justly highlighted, celebrated and appreciated? Maybe, and indeed it is no doubt because of these ‘airy, lofty, palatial’ alterations as they were called in a newspaper’s ‘obituary’ to the old building, that the premises gained its moniker5, and this should be a story in itself. (By the way, there seems to be an obsession in this country with giving the label ‘Victorian’ to our pubs, when it could be argued that those of the Edwardian era are by far the more detailed, interesting and salubrious, to my eye at least.)

Given how that business changed hands and the relatively recent ability to search online records and old newspapers at ease, it’s more that possible that there was no awareness of this significant date of 1901 in the recent past, so if the general story passed down was that the premises, or indeed the license, dates from 1823 and the plot of land is the same then there are those who could certainly argue that the age of the pub as an entity is from that earlier date. And in fairness, even the National Built Heritage Service6, is a little vague on the buildings date, giving it as 1880 to 1900, which is close, although they state ‘c.1890’ which it clearly is not and as we can see, a reminder that the term ‘circa’ should be taken as that, and not as a verbatim date. But none of this takes from the bar itself, which I freely admit now is one of my favourites in the city. I say all of this just as an example of things can become more than a little confused without researching and knowing the full history of a premises, and it seems that even such excellent sources as the NBHS can be slightly wrong in some cases. (As another example, I have previously spotted7, that The International Bar is stated to having built in 1911 by the NBHS when according to newspaper reports that seem quite iron clad it was built in 1898, unless it was torn down and rebuilt a little over a decade later, which is possible but doubtful?)

The truth is that with all of this confusing information we need to thread carefully, with or without carrying a big stick. All I can do is look at the information that exists for the armchair researcher, based on online sources, and published books and newspapers available to me with ease. As mentioned already, what has changed in the last few years is the ability to do real research from that armchair given the huge volume of online material now available, with some publications going back centuries. It is possible now to find information that was lost or missing just a few years ago, so certain omissions or confusions from the past were understandable and almost acceptable in many cases, and I'm not here to point fingers in any direction.

-o-

So, back to the oldest pubs in Ireland discussion and we shall stay in Dublin, and venture to The Brazen Inn, which claims on its website has been a ‘hostelry’ since 1198, although it does state the present building was built in 1754 as a coaching inn, but that The Brazen head appears on documents back to 1653, and adds that a Christopher Quin fitted out the inn with rooms and a large cellar in the 1750s – and that would appear to be its full history as given by the business online. It is also commonly reported that the words ‘John Langan halted here 7th August 1726’ are etched into a window on the premises but I cannot see an image online for verification although it is mentioned quite often, as are other comments stating that it actually says ‘John Lonergan’ and ‘1786’ so we can’t base anything on these dates, and we can immediately see how confusion can reign in these cases, as well as the limitations of home research - I can’t quickly nip out with a magnifying glass and check the inscription! – but the later dates seems more accurate perhaps, given that that coaching inn dates from the 1750s according to the pub itself.

A lot has been written about The Brazen Head both online and in paper-published form, and much of the more recent pieces on the internet and social media seem to just regurgitate something written by others, or just quote the pubs website. But luckily there are quite a few works with historical notes and commentary too. One of the best I have found is a paper called The Brazen Head Re-Visited by Timothy Dawson8, which he read to The Old Dublin Society in 1971 before it being subsequently published. It goes into great detail with regard to the site where the pub now stands and mentions that the name The Brazen Head dates to at least 1613, but also states that this is in a legal claim from 1700 which just references the older date. There is no mention of the words ‘The Brazen Head Inn’ until 1754 in that Timothy Dawson piece, when it is referenced in a lease description. Plus, a year later it was mentioned as ‘the new Brazen Head Inn’, a quotation which could be taken to mean a new inn or a new version of the inn in fairness.

‘The Brazen-Head in Bridge-Street’ is mentioned in newspapers as early as 1705 where a Mr. Hollingsworth seemingly kept a ‘hard-ware-house’ thereand although it certainly wasn’t unusual for individuals to operate temporary businesses from inns, a hardware supplier is strange, although he seems to have dealt in smaller items like knifes, buckles, and ‘cizzars’! But it was more likely that he operated from a warehouse at the front of the premises, as there were certainly such a structure there around that era, and later - keep in mind that the original building is set well back from the street. (Seemingly, there was also a Brazen-Head on Dames Street in Dublin in 1711 so care must be taken on references.10)

The earliest mention I can find in newspapers for an inn on the site is for a James Rose of the city of Dublin who …

… at very great expense, has furnished, in the genteelest and most commodious manner, the Brazen-Head Inn in Bridge-Street, Dublin, it being a most compleat new-built House, containing thirty rooms, and stables for an hundred horses; he has also laid in a large stock of the best of wines, and all sorts of spirituous liquors of the neatest kinds; and as he intends that no care, diligence or expense shall be wanting on his part, to render his accommodations agreeable, hopes that all gentlemen, merchants and others, who will be pleased to favour him with their custom, shall meet with the greatest satisfaction; and as it will be for his own interest, so it shall always be his constant endeavours to merit continuance of their favour.11

Fine words indeed and the words new-built ring out, although the dates don’t quite match up with the prescribed history it is possible and likely that Mr. Rose took over the business from that Mr. Quin, who built the building a couple of years previously. (Online newspaper sources tend to miss out certain years, including that one unfortunately - and frustratingly!)

The building has been altered and added to over the years but the structure of the original inn appears to remain. That first 1750s structure is set back from the street, as mentioned, and there was still that warehouse in front of it in the mid-1800s. The inn itself seems to have been expanded and ‘much improved and enlarged' in 1890 when it was called the Brazen Head Hotel and comprised numbers 19, 20 and 21 Lower Bridge Street12 although this was split soon after with 19 and 20 becoming Doherty’s Hotel and the Brazen Head, the 'back portion of the concerns’ being given up by Mr. Doherty – so it appears that two separate inn-like businesses operated on and around the site at this time, which is a good example as to how the architecture and provenance of these buildings can be confusing, (Indeed the numbers on the street move around a bit too, something that was common enough but meaning that the establishment can be found in connection with two street numbers, as number 31 became number 20 in 1844.)

Interestingly, in Irwin's Historical and Descriptive Guide to Dublin published in 1853 an advertisement for the hotel sets the established date as 1710, although sadly no history is listed. I’ve also seen the date 1668 quoted as well as 1666 and that it was originally called the Standfast Inn with a date of 1210. In Rare Old Dublin: Heroes, Hawkers & Hoors Frank Hopkins states that the first mention was in 1613 in a fine levied on the property, which is the mention already noted above although as stressed it is a reference to 1613 made at a later date. Although both Frank Hopkins and Timothy Dawson call the building an inn he quotes from a court paper in 1703 that clearly states it was ‘a large timber house’ which given this was an area of merchant’s house as per the same source, it sounds like it may have been just that, a house and not an inn at that time? Although at this period some houses were beginning to convert their lower floor for shops and other similar uses and, confusingly, inns were also just called houses so it's difficult to assess in any definite way.

One of the most prolific statements is that the present structure dates from that 1668 date, but we can clearly see that this isn’t the case, a William Withering or Witherington or Witheringham was the alleged owner at that time but, frustratingly, I can find no original sources for this claim, just repeated mentions - which doesn’t mean they don’t exist of course, it just means I cannot find them!

Nor can I see any reliable, definitive evidence for the 1198 claim other than there is an implication that there would have been an inn somewhere around there give that this was seemingly a place where the Liffey was crossed and was just inside the city walls? There is mention of the Steadfast Inn I referenced above existing in 1210 and another in the general area, but I can’t see any proof of location or even there actual existence.

There is no doubt that there was a structure on or near the site but I can’t find evidence as to what it was apart from being a building called The Brazen Head, whether this was an inn, a private house or a completely different business - most business back then used signs, not just inns. Even the mention by Jonathan Swift in a published letter written in 1727 mention, ‘Here only, at the sign of the Brazen Head, are to be sold places and pensions: beware of counterfeits, and take care of mistaking the door,’ which is extremely unhelpful. Plus if this is the basis for the suggestion he frequented the place as an inn it seems pretty unreliable.13

But much of this is irrelevant in any case, as based on my original criteria of the date of the structure being key to my interpretation of the age of the pub, it dates from at least 1756 when it was listed as new built, or more likely 1754 if I could see the lease that is mentioned or the quoted advertisement. It is certainly a place of huge interest and of historical note, especially the original structure to the rear - as the stone castle-like structure to the front is much more recent. There was certainly another structure on Bridge Street called The Brazen Head before this time but I sadly couldn’t find mention from first-hand sources that that building was also definitely an inn, although it is quite possible it was, or became one. But regardless, from the information I have gleaned during this research even the later building has a fascinating, enthralling and real story that could and should - and perhaps is - being told. Its 250 year old history is certainly of huge significance to both historians and the more curious members of the general public.

-o-

The other hyped oldest Irish pub is of course Sean’s Bar in Athlone, and whereas there is the world of information about the site of The Brazen Head there is very little written information on Sean’s Bar prior to the last few decades. This is partly due to the huge population differences and interest in Dublin and its specific built heritage versus Athlone's (although there is a lot of general writing about the town itself) and also because Sean’s Bar’s claim is relatively new. It proves how frustrating it is to track down and confirm information about certain structures and businesses in this country without trawling through deeds and other lists of information in record offices, which is what an actual historian would do of course! What can be very exasperating is the lack of information from independent sources, and in the case of this bar it all seems to revolve around repetitive write-ups, fairly recent interviews and the very basic information given by the pub itself rather than historical records.

(For clarity, James Wright of Triskele Heritage has written a piece about the bar which I will link to at the end of this piece, and I will try to add to, and not derive, information from that article although there is obviously a little overlap with my findings.)

From ground floor level Sean’s Bar doesn’t seem very old, especially given the name and the relatively plain facade, unadorned apart from some modern signage and those pillars that were - fun fact - moved from Gill’s bookshop in Dublin and stuck to the front of the building in the 1970s by the then owner Sean Fitzsimons, who took over the bar from original Sean who the place was named for - Sean O’Brien.14 That appearance is certainly in its favour as it hasn’t plastered a faux old-world look onto the frontage to make it appear old in a contrived manner. The bar is just one side of a larger, complete, asymmetrical building, which we will look at later, and it sits on Main Street on the Roscommon side of Athlone, quite close to the castle site.

The older name most associated with the building is that of The Three Blackamoors Heads Inn or various versions of the same name. (Please note that I use name not to cause offense, but for descriptive historical accuracy.) A Jacob Jacques or Jacob James15 appears to have had an inn or hotel on that side of the river in the late 1600s although no exact location or name for his inn is given in any sources I have come across so he must be ignored as a previous owner of this inn, but in 1719 a James Begg had an establishment called The Three Blackamores [sic] Heads’16 according to a newspaper mention from that year. Other names are also associated with an inn of that name, such as (probably) Mark Begg15 , James Begg, Margret Lorcan (or Lorcon) a widow in 1748, and Thomas Nolan, who married Mrs Lorcan later. Dillon Naughton had the premises17 in the 1756 and it was in the possession of Pat Donolly in 1808 when it was called The Three Blacks and when he vacated it it was to be let quickly or it would ‘be converted into shops, and let to solvent tenants, with convenient apartments, and stabling if required.’18 The final mention I can find is by the same truncated name when it was being ran by John and Isabella Dowd in 1843.19 The name appears to die out after that and it would be extremely difficult for me to track or trace any owners to the site after that without having access to deeds or similar records, or unless new information comes to light. There is a prominent publican called Patrick Cullen mentioned as having a public house in the second half of the 19th century, as well as a Mrs. Cullen – probably his widow - when he died. I have no idea if that was the same premises, although The Slater’s Directory from 1846 gives no inn on Main Street and just one public house owned by a Patrick Cullin (Cultin?). Griffiths Valuation map and ledger list an Ellen Cullen occupying the property that is now Sean’s Bar but not owning the site, although confusingly she appears to have owned the two sites next door, closer to the river end of the street. I wonder did the Cullens take over the license when the Dowds finished up? If provable then that would give continuation for the site - or part of it more probably as we shall see - being the original Blackamoor Heads Inn. With the exception of Mark Begg, the modern bar in question hasn’t published much information on previous owners that I can find, which would hopefully link back to some of these names, so my trail runs cold - or is luke-warm at best - here. (There was also an inn called the ‘Head Inn’ on the other side of the river on Church Street in the early 19th century which surely must have caused confusion!20 I’m not sure if it was a play on words or whether it referenced something else, there was a Crown Inn close by or on the same site in the late 18th century so perhaps it was a derivation from that. It's also quite frustrating that mentions of an inn on the 'main street' often meant a premises on Church Street on the other side of the Shannon, as this was the main street of the town! Also worth mentioning is that the name, The Three Blackamoors, was a relatively common name for an inn or tavern and there are quite a few mentioned around the country, which makes research a little tedious at times.)

But where precisely was The Blackamoor Inn on Main Street? As this would help us pick up the trail, although in reverse fashion.

Maps prior to the Ordnance Survey versions are unhelpful to our quest to pinpoint the exact location of the original inn, with many showing streets but no detail to buildings, or just streets. For example The Irish Historic Towns Atlas (IHTA)21 for Athlone has a map from the Sherrard’s survey of 1784 but doesn’t show the inn although it positions others on the Leinster side of the town, even though we know it was in existence at that time (That street was possibly out of Sherrard's brief?), and other maps from the 17th century also lack detail to be of any real help. The IHTA has no mention of the current establishment although it does mention the Three Blackamoor Heads, but sadly with no detail apart from a reference to deeds I have no easy access to at this point.

But we have some clues, as when the Pat Donolly mentioned above had vacated it in 1808, it was being described as an ‘extensive inn’ and having ‘an abundance of house room, with stabling to accommodate 60 horses, and a passage for water to the River Shannon, at the rear of the concerns.’ It was also said to be ‘in the centre of the main street.’ This is an interesting comment, because prior to the erection of the new crossing in c. 1844, the bridge over the river was situated quite some meters to the south and lined up with our Main Street making it the main thoroughfare west – which is how it got its name of course – and the houses and other building on the street ran right down to the bridge before some were demolished or altered to make way for a quay for navigation and boat mooring purposes. If playing Devil’s Advocate and one looked at where the ‘centre’ of the street was it would be somewhat removed from the existing bar by some margin, although the ordnance survey map (6” OSI) from the late first half of the 19th century shows the gap in the buildings on the street where there was access to the stables mentioned perhaps? This was clearly built over at a later period, possibly when there was an extra floor added to the premises, before being completely blocked up then or at a later date. This also accounts for the strange positioning of the windows with a larger space on the left than on the right if you look at the complete façade of the building that incorporates the bar. This would lead us to assume that this opening was part of that building and the current site – which incorporates a separate business to the pub now – and therefore even without looking at deeds or any other information it does feel right that this was indeed the site of the Blackamoor Inn, although there isn’t any definitive proof I can find so we are in the area of 'possibles' and 'probables,' which is never a comfortable place to be, as it may be where those unicorns reside.

Interestingly, one source gives the road frontage of the site that contained the original inn as 66 feet17, if this is correct and in Irish feet more so than Imperial feet it would include exactly the facade as discussed plus the peculiarly narrow building on the left as we look at the building. (Measurement was taken from the recent OS map online.) That whole frontage was owned or leased as three properties by Ellen Cullen at the time of the Griffiths valuation c. 1855. This of course may be meaningless but if we think of an inn with an archway/opening for carriages then it would make sense that it would include a building on the other side of the arch also, perhaps for security or for accommodation for stable hands or coach drivers, etc.? It would also help with the comment that the site was in the middle of Main Street as this would pull the whole site closer to the bridge. I think it is very possible that the then owner did split up the frontage into three separate entities after 1808, with the current public house becoming a smaller part of the whole at that time and still called The Three Blacks, later ran by the Dowds and then the Cullens. All of that is a stretch granted, although it is based on maps and the visible streetscape, although I am acutely aware of not wanting to drift down the road of fiction and become part of a problem instead of helping with solutions, so as you can see this is just pure guesswork, if vaguely educated perhaps? Although I do feel the nuzzle of that unicorn on my shoulder ...

So what age is the building? The National Built Heritage Service22  state 1700 – 1750 before plumping for the average which is ‘c.1725’ but as we have seen this can be a little out and should not be taken as an exact date, nor is it expected to be of course. There were a couple of significant events in Athlone’s history that might shed light on a closer date, and that was the great siege of Athlone where ‘the east town was burnt in 1690, and when the west town and the castle were reduced to rubble by '12,000 cannon bullets, 600 bombs, nigh 50 ton of powder and a great many ton of stones' fired off by the Williamite artillery’21 the following year. With its close proximity to the castle it would be hard to see how any building on this site would have survived such an intense bombardment, and add to this that in 1697 a bolt of lightning hit the castle and ignited ‘260 barrels of [gun]powder, 1,000 charged hand-grenades, with 810 skains(sic) of match [Flammable cord used to fire cannons, etc.] which were piled over them, 220 barrels of musket and pistol balls’23 and tools, horseshoes and nails, which caused destruction and fire throughout the town and one would assume that Main Street took the brunt of the damage given its proximity to the castle. Indeed in 1819 Rev. Stean quotes from a source from just after the calamity occurred - ‘the lighted match forcing the thatched houses burned to the ground the greatest part of what the thunder and blast had left standing yet little remained of the whole town but a few poor cottages without the gates …’23 (As an aside, the good reverend also states that ‘there is one very bad inn’ on this side of Athlone in 1819 but sadly he refrains from giving the name or position!)  So, although this is pure conjecture, it very possible that the inn was newly built by the above-mentioned James Begg prior to his newspaper mention in 1719. The town was supposed to have recovered rapidly from the destruction so it is certainly conceivably that the building was erected in the very, very late 1690s or the first decade of the 1700s. Again, I have no proof of this but I would suggest that the building dates from closer to 1700, which ties in with the range given by the NBHS too, and if it is the same building as owned by James Begg mentioned above then it must be prior to 1719 at the very least.

Of course there is mention of it dating back further, much further. For example there is reference to a selection of old coins and a section of ‘wattle and wicker’ (surely it should be wattle and daub?) that dates back to ‘the ninth century.’ Notes on the excellent Historic Environment Viewer24 for the site state the following, ‘'Sean's Bar' was originally a two storey high building with thick walls, an additional third storey in brick was added later. Preserved on the premises is a section of wattle partition removed from a first floor wall. This could be of seventeenth century date [my emphasis] but it is not securely dated (Bradley et. al. 1985, 28).’ (Were there any two-storey buildings like this in the 9th century? That would seem odd, as surely any structures of a commercial type were single storey? I'm not sure of course.) It is also worth noting that the letter taped on to the wattle and daub display from the National Museum of Ireland, sent to Anna Fitzsimons and dated 1972, says in what appears to be a reply sent back to Mrs. Fitzsimons that wattle a daub was used from very early times to the present day before going on to mention the excavations being carried out at that time in Dublin around Winetavern Street, and that the wattle work there was dated between the 9th and 13th century.25 It doesn’t mention anything about the date of the wall on display, so perhaps there is confusion around the meaning of the letter? I'm really not sure again. When contacted, the National Museum of Ireland said they had no records to support any claim that the dates were verified by them, and they know of no record of the wattle and daub being sampled and dated. They did say that they have around thirty trade tokens that relate to Athlone on their database, but they are 17th century and they had no information that they related to this pub. I have no idea why they have no record of the finds but sadly I have once again reached a dead-end in my research in this direction with this avenue closed to me. (Incidentally, I discovered that oft-mentioned old fireplace on the site was relocated there from a completely different structure, as per another note on the Historic Environment Viewer which states, ‘On the premises of Sean's Bar, 13 Main Street, is a late medieval stone built fireplace from a house on an island in Lough Ree (Bradley et. al. 1985, 28).’ This is fascinating and I'm sure there's a good story being told about how it came to be placed in its current spot, as well as the history of the house from which it came!)

Of the story about Luain and his tavern from 900ad I can sadly find no trace in historical records, a person called Luain or Luan is indeed mentioned in sources but many older mentions of the meaning of 'Athlone' state that Luain came from the Irish for moon and that the name comes from the Ford of the Moon, while other various sources mention it comes from the word for ‘swift’, signifying the rapids at the ford or early bridge. The IHTA gives two derivations, one from the story The Táin’ mentioning the haunch (lon) of the white-horned bull of Mág Ai that was dropped into the river here having been killed by the brown bull of Cúailnge, but also mentions that it may refer to Luan who was shot along with his lover and died on the ford of the river, or another Luan who was slain there in battle. There is a mention in ‘The Fate of the Children of Tuireann’ of - in Irish - ‘Ath-Luain-mic-Luighdheach’ being the crossing at Athlone, so perhaps the source is that myth but we can clearly see here we have drifted into the realms of fantasy and storytelling we discussed at the start, and has far as I am aware these legendary stories are set in prehistory of the 1st century? As with so many place names in Ireland its true derivation may remain lost to time, language changes and the repetition of erroneous material - so sadly this was another dead-end! More modern references do certainly mention the Ford of Luan and many say that it is named after a person called Luan but don’t generally go much further than that comment.

There is also mention of the Guinness Book of Records certificate for the oldest pub in Ireland but the publication now distances itself from these types of certificates, and indeed Dan from the Twitter/X account for the Guinness World Records wrote in reply to a query on this very bar in 2017 that, 'The record for the 'Oldest Pub' was rested in 2000 when it became clear that it was not possible to verify it in full.'26 So without being able to contact GWR to ask more about the certificate I've ended up at yet another dead-end! It really feels like I'm an unwanted entity ...

From what I’ve researched and admittedly surmised at times (but with sound reasoning) some of the complete building that Sean’s Bar’ is a part of seem to date from around 1700 BUT I have absolutely no proof of that. If I could be sure that the site was definitely The Blackamoor Inn and that is the early 18th century frontage of the structure (although I do believe it very probably is given what I’ve seen and read) then it might make it one of the oldest pubs in Ireland still operating within (some of) its own walls, and it pips The Brazen Head by 50 years or so IF this is the case, even if the later has grown in size and the former shrank, or so it appears from the architecture. And, I admit that this is not a very good conclusion or assessment but I have been frustrated by dead-ends and lack of first hand accounts as you have seen.

-o-

So, based on all of that information and factoring my own criteria for what constitutes the age of a pub – structure, etc. – there are still a lot of grey areas and unanswered questions. I’m an awful lot wiser but it would be great if both establishments could publish detailed books or well referenced write-ups in order that their claims can be better researched, verified and lauded. But this is true for all of our older pubs in fairness.

And this all raises the question of whether there are other older pubs in Ireland that have operated out of the same structure since opening? I have no idea, although there are some other less famous contenders ...

As mentioned already, I set my own personal criteria for this exploration and they might not concur with yours, or other’s findings. I can't say that yours - or theirs - are erroneous, as it depends on the criteria set and other evidence that is still be found. Unfortunately for me, many of the avenues I thought would be of help ended up being closed off, but I will revisit all of this again as new information is always coming to light.

-o-

Why does any of this matter? Well, it doesn’t really and I’m not sure that anyone really believes the foundation dates of any pubs, breweries or businesses prior to the end of the 19th century anyway. Do they? I have previously discussed pubs being seen as repositories and keepers of our past brewing7, and not long after that piece a large multinational drinks company started to do just that. But there needs to be some independent and ‘proper’ museum-based oversight so that we know the right information is being communicated and has been verified by critical, knowledgeable historians.

As always, we need marketing-free honesty and factual accuracy in our brewing history. Keep the fiction to those sci-fi and fantasy books we all enjoy - unicorns and all ...

Liam K

The link to my Smithwick's post is here.

The link to James Wright of Triskele Heritage's piece is here.

(The image used at the start is called 'The 'Scene of the Last Struggle in Athlone - Connaught Side' and is via Google Books from Here and There Through Ireland Part 1 by Mary Banim -1891 and shows Main Street with the Sean's Bar site just out of view on the left.)

Evening Herald (Dublin) - Monday 14th May 1900

2 Sport (Dublin) - Saturday 13th July 1901

3  Dublin Evening Telegraph - Tuesday 9th July 1901

4 Saunders's News-Letter - Saturday 23rd August 1828

5 Sport (Dublin) - Saturday 13th July 1901

www.buildingsofireland.ie/buildings-search/building/50020224/the-palace-bar-21-fleet-street-dublin-2-dublin

7  www.beerfoodtravel.blogspot.com/2024/03/100-years-of-irish-brewing-in-50.html

 www.jstor.org/stable/30082554

9  Pue's Occurrences - Saturday 14th July 1705

10 Dublin Intelligence - Saturday 17 March 1711

11 Pue's Occurrences - Tuesday 9th March 1756

12 Western People - Saturday 8th November 1890

13 A LETTER to THE WRITER of the OCCASIONAL PAPER Vide the CRAFTSMAN -1727

14 www.westmeathindependent.ie/2022/02/08/street-wise-athlones-main-street/

15 The Proceedings and Papers of the Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland by Royal Society of Antiquaries of Ireland · 1892

16 Pue's Occurrences - Tuesday 9th June 1719

17 www.tailte.ie/en/blog/women-property-in-the-registry-of-deeds.html

18 Saunders's News-Letter - Saturday 21st May 1808

19 Newry Telegraph - Saturday 25th March 1843

20 Dublin Evening Post - Thursday 9th March 1815

21 www.s3-eu-west-1.amazonaws.com/assets.ria.ie/ihta/ihta-digital/anglo-norman-towns/athlone/IHTA_06_Athlone_Text.pdf

22 www.buildingsofireland.ie/buildings-search/building/15000331/11-13-main-street-athlone-and-bigmeadow-athlone-westmeath

23 A Statistical Account, Or Parochial Survey of Ireland Drawn Up from the Communications of the Clergy · Volume 3 by William Shaw Mason - 1819

24www.heritagedata.maps.arcgis.com/apps/webappviewer/index.html?id=0c9eb9575b544081b0d296436d8f60f8&query=18a4b61b268-layer-9%2CSMRS%2CWM029-042086-

25 www.loyaltytraveler.boardingarea.com/2019/03/14/revisiting-seans-bar-irelands-oldest-pub/

26 www.x.com/GWR/status/819116736473681922?t=AFgWZzyUgxgXUvx7NIpr7Q&s=19

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post.  Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Thursday 18 April 2024

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #20 - The Harp Magazine (1963)

A TELEPHONE shrills in the Brewery Fire Brigade night quarters at 84 James's Street.

“There's been an accident.”
“Where?”
“In the brewery yard at the old weighbridge.”
“How many injured?”
“Two men.”
“Badly?”
“I don't know.”
“Right, we're on our way!”

The four-man team pile into the ambulance stationed outside and in a matter of moments are at the scene of the accident. Accident? Well, not a real one on this occasion. To keep the members of our Fire Brigade on their toes a competition is staged annually to provide practice in rescue technique. This year seven teams, each of four members, had been drawn out for the contest and the two teams of finalists were going through their paces in the presence of the Board.

Conditions made as true to life as were possible and on arrival the rescue teams discovered two men trapped in a crater beneath a pile of planks and rubble, which had collapsed on top of them.

Under the searching gaze of Dr. Eustace, F. W. Derbyshire and Dan O'Brien they go into action One man, still conscious, whose leg is trapped beneath a plank, presents the symptoms of a compound fracture; the other (a dummy) has the signs of a skull injury.

Praise is due to John McGuirk of the Rigging section, a most realistic casualty whose acting lent an authentic touch to the proceedings.

Both units displayed a high standard of proficiency, but the judges finally decided in favour of Team A, led by Edward King, with Dermot Harnett, James Scallan and James Duffy giving able support. Sir Geoffrey Thompson made the presentation to the winners at a short ceremony in the Fire Station afterwards.

We in the Brewery have indeed reason to be thankful that we have such a well-trained group of men on hand, should a real accident call them into action.
The Harp – Spring 1963

Work was a dangerous place in the past, and certainly for those who worked in industrial spaces full of noise, distractions, heat, and time pressure, then add to that toothed and spinning machinery, elevated gangways, and equipment literally on an industrial scale. Many workers were taking their lives in their hands every day that they showed up for their job, and although it would be incorrect to say that there were no safety measures in place in the 19th and early 20th century, there were certainly far fewer procedures and checks in place than we would expect to see in any factory are large processing plant today.

The above quoted training procedure from the Guinness brewery in Dublin demonstrates that breweries in Ireland were certainly as dangerous a place to work as any other similar sized and focussed enterprise, perhaps even more so, due to the oversized buildings and equipment which needed to be scaled in numerous ways at various times, and also the use of hot liquids and other unseen hazards as we shall see.

Breweries could be unforgiving and deadly places at times, and please note that this article will deal with and describe some of those deaths so those who feel uncomfortable with these types of descriptions should probably not continue.

-o-

The newspapers of the 1800s and early 1900s are dotted with reports of deaths in Irish breweries to the point where almost every decade had a report or two of workers being killed on or off site. It is, even at this remote juncture, a difficult read, as many of the reported inquests go into the details of precisely what happened these individuals, and often include a list of the people they have left behind, where sometimes, almost an afterthought, the reporter will mention the wife, children, parents or siblings that were left in heartache and possible destitution at the loss of a loved one. It is worth remembering at all times that we are dealing with actual human beings who lived not terribly long ago and who possibly still have ancestors walking our streets whose lives were affected directly or indirectly by such a dreadful occurrence.

Deaths appear to have happened in almost every brewery in this country and from multiple causes. Falls were quite common, with brewery workers - or at times hired contractors - tumbling to their deaths from the gangways that stretched across the upper reaches of the tall brewery structures. Falling from the top of the various brewing vessels was a hazard, as was falling from the roofs of the buildings themselves. At times the unfortunate individuals tumbled into mash tuns, kettles and other hot water sources, or fell close to lit boilers and suffered agonising scalds or burns that more often than not resulted in death.

Drownings in porter vats, wells or water tanks also occurred, and in the case of the deaths in vessels which held beer, the owners of the breweries were forced to comment on the fact that the porter within was dumped, due to scurrilous reports of the beer still being put out for sale after the event. In 1874, at the inquest into the drowning of a worker in a vat of porter in St. Fin Barre's Brewery in Cork, Mr. Thomas Lane felt the need to put on the record and into the local paper that 'an injurious report has gone abroad that we stocked a quantity of the porter, whereas it is all gone down the river.'

There were rarer fatalities too, such as the man who suffocated in barley in Perry’s brewery Rathdowney in 1906 when he stood in a hopper containing grain which was then then tipped into a larger silo along with the worker and he was smothered by more grain being added while the unfortunate man was still inside it, something similar had occurred in Guinness in 1895 too.

There are also particularly gruesome accounts of workers becoming entangled in a piece of machinery in the brewery with the obvious and unrepeatable horrific injuries that this would entail. One particularly poignant report from 1867 tells of an 11-year-old boy who while visiting his father’s place of work – the Beamish & Crawford brewery in Cork – was caught in the cogs of machinery. He lost a leg amongst other injuries and died later in hospital.

One form of death that seems to have been dreadfully common was death by carbon dioxide suffocation, where a worked descended into a fermenter to clean it out without realising that it was full of this deadly odourless gas, a byproduct of the fermentation process, which can incapacitate a person almost instantly. This type of death was relatively common, and some of the fatalities recorded in this way were in an unnamed Cork brewery in 1782, Guinness’s in 1839 and 1864, Lane’s brewery Cork in 1846, Wickham’s in Wexford in 1869, Jameson and Pim’s in 1894, Darcy’s in 1898 and 1915 and Cairnes Brewery in 1908. Tragically these sometimes involved two or three fatalities, as one person went down to aid the other as happened in Clonmel Brewery in 1916, when three worked climbed into a vat one after another to help the others and were overcome, only one survived.

TRAGIC CLONMEL AFFAIR
Two Brewery Workers Killed.

A shocking tragedy occurred at the Clonmel Brewery resulting in the death of two workmen and the narrow escape of a third from similar fate. While a man named Michael Mc*** was engaged on a ladder washing, with a hose, a large vat, about 15 feet high, covered at the top, and entrance to which effected by means of a ladder through a trap door, he was overcome gas fumes and fell the bottom. Another employee, James R***, apparently climbed down to the rescue, but was likewise overcome and a third, P. C*******, followed also for the purpose of rescuing his fellow-work men, but he too was overcome. Further help was quickly at hand; holes were bored in the sides of the vat to let in air, and, eventually, the three men were pulled out, and placed on the top where, under the directions Drs. Wynne, O’Brien, and Murray, artificial respiration was employed for several hours. C******* recovered under this treatment, and was sent hospital, but all efforts to revive Mc**** and R*** were unavailing. Distressing scenes were witnessed as the bodies were removed to the Morgue, the wives and relatives giving vent their grief. Rev. W. Walsh, C.C., was promptly in attendance and climbed to the top of the vat to minister to the unfortunate fellows. Both of the victims were married, R*** leaving a large young family.

The same calamity happened in Manders brewery in 1882 where one of the three men died.

FATAL ACCIDENT IN MANDERS' BREWERY

On Saturday evening three men, named George D****, Patrick R*****, and Patrick J****, were working on a loft in Messrs Manders' brewery, 113 James's street. D**** went in to a vat for some purpose, and was immediately rendered insensible by the carbonic acid gas. R***** and J**** went to the assistance of D****. and were themselves immediately overcome by the gas. In the meantime the three men were missed, and with great difficulty got out with the aid of ropes. D**** was found to be dead, and the other two remain in a precarious condition.

Reports of these types of deaths used words such as ‘foul air’ or ‘gas fumes’ or ‘spirit’ as well as ‘carbonic acid gas,’ so it appears that many breweries were aware of the issue but didn’t have the terminology or knowledge to know exactly what was the cause in the very early reports, although it appears to have been common practice to lower a candle into the vats, as it would be extinguished by the presence of this ‘foul air.’ There are also mentions of the need to open taps - or bore holes in an emergency as mentioned above - to let air in, or probably more accurately as we now know, to let the heavier than air carbon dioxide flow out.

-o-

Outside of the brewery could be a dangerous place to be working for the brewery too, especially if you were a drayman who hauled beer around the country to the various public houses or bottlers. Drivers lost their lives on occasion in accidents such as one drayman for a Dungarvan brewery who in 1870 was killed when his cart collapsed and he was pitched forward into the space between the horse and the front of the vehicle, where he was kicked to death by the animal as it tried to extricate itself. He left a wife and six children to mourn his untimely end.

A young driver from the Macardle Moore brewery in Dundalk who was delivering ale to the local military barracks in 1868 was killed when his horse was startled by the sound of a trumpet and bolted. The unfortunate individual was run over by the wheels of his own cart as he attempted to catch the reins to stop the horse.

A driver for Perry’s brewery in Rathdowney drowned in a water-filled ditch near Cuddagh Bog when the cart he was steering overturned and trapped him beneath it in 1905, and a similar accident occurred much earlier in 1829 when a drayman for D’Arcy’s brewery was drowned while attempting to rescue his horse which had ended up in the canal at Ringsend, and both man and beast perished.

But it wasn’t just drivers that were killed as can be seen from the following incident involved a young drayman from the Creywell brewery in New Ross owned by Cherrys.

FATAL ACCIDENT

During the Quarter Sessions in New Ross, an old man named P****, a farmer, from Misterin, county Wexford, was knocked down outside of the Courthouse by a local brewery van, which rolled over him, and killed him almost immediately. The driver of the van, a boy named Peter W*****, was immediately arrested and remanded. The evidence up to the present show that the deceased was more or less intoxicated - that there was [sic] some cars down the footpath outside the sessions house railings, which made the narrow lane still narrower - that W***** was driving the brewery horse (which is blind) at the rate of about six miles an hour, and did not slacken his pace coming around the corner of Cross Lane; that the deceased was crossing the lane obliquely, when the "off" shaft struck him, and when the people shouted out to the driver to stop, he pulled up, just as the wheel had rolled up from the unfortunate man's abdomen to his neck, and that he died almost immediately. Mr Colfer, solicitor, is engaged for the relatives of the deceased, and Mr Hinson, solicitor for the defence of the prisoner. Mr Carey, D.I., R.I.C, prosecuted. Bail was refused.

It would be hard to decide here whether the drunken individual, the speeding driver or the blind horse were to blame.

Sadly, small children were killed by brewery drays on at least two occasions, and there were probably even more fatalities than that. In 1899 a float belonging to Mountjoy brewery in Dublin was involved in an accident with a two-year-old boy which resulted in the loss of the child’s life, and in 1912 a three-year-old girl was killed near Bow Bridge, also in Dublin, having been run over by a dray belonging to D’Arcy’s brewery when she ran from a shop and tumbled under the wheels of the cart.

Staying with transport there have also been a few fatalities related to steam engines, with crush injuries and other accidents known to happen. For example, in 1889 a driver died on the narrow gauge in the Guinness brewery when he was knocked from his engine in a tunnel while driving between the brewery and the quay. He was crushed between the wall of the tunnel and his locomotive.

Even tugboats plying the Liffey were not completely safe, as in 1879 an employee of Guinness who was working on the steam tug Lagan was drowned after the boat hit the central arch of the Queen Street Bridge – now called Mellows Bridge - and he was thrown into the river with a companion, who survived.

-o-

Stranger incidents occurred too, such as the death in 1891 of a man in Kilkenny from rabies he contracted from a dog who ran into Sullivans’ James’s street brewery.

DEATH FROM HYDROPHOBIA

In the Moderator of Saturday but we stated that a man named Martin M*****, who was employed as a vanman in the James's-street Brewery. Kilkenny, was lying so dangerously ill in the workhouse hospital with an attack of hydrophobia that he was not expected to recover. We regret to state that the poor fellow expired early on Saturday morning last. One day in March last, it may be remembered, a dog - which it was afterwards discovered was suffering from rabies - ran into the yard of the James’s-street Brewery, where poor M***** was working. The dog ran towards M*****, and on raising his hand to keep the animal back, it immediately snapped at him and bit him on the finger. Information was at given of the to the James's- street police. and early the following morning the dog was destroyed, Mr. John Barry, V.S.. having pronounced it to be suffering from rabies. M*****, on hearing this. did not, as he should have done, place himself under medical treatment, but continued, poor fallow, from day to day at his usual employment until last Wednesday evening, when he was taken suddenly ill. Dr. Hackett was immediately sent for, and he at once stated that M***** had developed symptoms of hydrophobia, and ordered him to be removed to the hospital of the workhouse. Hydrophobia is, according to one of the highest medical authorities, a disease from which scarcely any person has ever been known to recover, and but little hope was entertained of the unfortunate sufferer's recovery. From Wednesday evening be continued to linger on until Saturday, when, as we have stated, he expired in great agony. The greatest sympathy is entertained for the deceased man's wife and family in their bereavement, and the large assemblage of the general public at his funeral on Sunday last testified to the high esteem and regard in which the deceased was held. It is a most unfortunate thing that a human life should be thus lost, merely by not having a strict law enforced as to the muzzling of dogs, and it is to be hoped that the authorities will take such steps in future as will prevent a similar dreadful occurrence.

As seen above, brewery horses died on occasion too but in 1896 there was an unusual occurrence as reported below:

A HORSE STUNG TO DEATH

On Saturday last, the 20th instant, a man named Daniel Brennan, was dispatched from the firm of E Smithwick and Sons, St Francis Abbey Brewery, to the licensed premises of Mr T Kennedy, Bennettsbridge, Kilkenny, with a load of drink. He arrived there about six o'clock, and after he had made delivery, was about leaving for home, when quite suddenly, a whole hive of bees landed on the horse’s head and neck to begin their deadly havoc. Immediately the horse became frantic and dashed madly along the road for some distance, when he was with much difficulty brought to a standstill. Some helpers having arrived at the time, he was unyoked from the car. and put into an adjacent field. Here he lay down and remained in the most acute pain until the following morning, when he was got up and removed slowly along the road. He never rallied, however, and on Monday morning he expired after undergoing the most dreadful agony.

-o-

It is worth mentioning that in many cases in the deaths reported above there was a recommendation for the breweries to make some payment to the dependants of those who died, and it would be good to think that this was followed up on, or that there was payment made via The Workman’s Compensation Act which legislated for such eventualities. But it is also worth restating that these were all real people who died in tragic circumstances, but with each death it could be hoped that steps were put in place to lessen the risk of a reoccurrence of such a tragedy in the future. The outcome can perhaps be seen in the opening quotation from Guinness’s The Harp magazine - a brewery that has seen its own fair share of those deaths as we saw - where at least there was a rapid response if an accident did occur, and presumably more preventative procedures in place too.

I know many people love a ghostly story, so maybe some think that a form of essence, or possibly a life-echo reverberation, still inhabits the brewing-related (and other) places where these deaths occurred. Perhaps they think that a small part of the dead's souls live on even still, although many of the locations are now homes, offices or just empty spaces. But whatever our thoughts on whether ghosts exist or not at least these unfortunate people live on in one way in the faded ink of newspapers - or in pixels and 1s and 0s - for ever, perhaps. They are fact not fiction.

Stories are just that, tales for entertainment be they ghost related or not, but death is real.

So brewers, be safe.

Liam K

(I have deliberately left out a couple of deaths I came across, as even though much time has passed they are connected to living, known descendants. I have also left out any mentions of self-harm or murder, and I have purposely doctored the surnames of victims in newspaper reports. As someone whose great-grandfather met a gruesome machinery-related death over a century ago, the subject and thought of his name appearing in an ‘entertaining’ article might make me or my family members feel uneasy, hence my reticence to use those last names.)

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. The photograph and magazine itself are the authors own and the image cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. The actual magazine was published by Guinness for its personnel, which allowed use such as I have done here according to the notes inside the front cover. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive and the exact sources for the deaths and quotations mentioned and shown above can be requested from me via email or message. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Friday 22 March 2024

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #19 - Arnott’s Prize Medal Porter Ghost Sign c.1890

“This stout is of full Alcoholic Strength, and possesses great body, as shown by the proportions of Malt Extract present. It is quite free from any impurities, such as Foreign Bitters, and is in very good condition. I am of opinion that it is of excellent Quality and highly Nutritive, and one of the best Stouts on the Market.”
Mr B A Burrell, F.I.C., F.C.S., late Public Analyst for Cork – Cork Daily Herald, May 1893

As you walk along Farren’s Quay in Cork, heading west towards North Mall it is usually necessary to stop at the busy junction where Shandon Street flows on to North Gate Bridge as it crosses the river Lee. While you wait patiently at the crossing for that little green person to appear, it’s difficult to miss the ghost of a sign - or in fact a ghost-upon-a-ghost of a sign - on a handsome brick building across the road. The words ‘Arnott’s Prize Medal Porter’ are still clearly legible in faded white paint on the first floor of number 64, framed in a plain cartouche and sitting nicely between two windows. This large object – and it can still be called an object, regardless of its size, make up and position – is the wraith like remains of an advertisement for a long-gone Irish beer and a pointer to what once was a brewery-tied public house, something that Cork – unique for Ireland – was famous for. Breweries and pubs in other cities did have similar arrangements, both official and unofficial, but not quite so many or with so obvious a tie. Being a tied-house meant that the public house was obliged to purchase beer from their tied-to breweries due to various factors such as the brewery owning the property, the license, or for services rendered or payments made, and it was of course a much more common practice in England.

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Sir John Arnott, an M.P. and then Mayor of Cork purchased an old, existing brewery near St Fin Barre’s cathedral in Cork at the end of 1861 and by the following year was brewing both porters and ales. Arnott’s – or St. Fin Barre’s – brewery was in direct competition for the porter, and to some extent the ale, trade with Beamish & Crawford, Murphy’s and Lanes brewery who were all based in the city. As well as supplying their beer locally they were exporting to England, Scotland and Wales plus more exotic climes such as the Mediterranean and Barbados.. By the early 1880s Arnott’s were also operating a separate ale brewery in Riverstown just outside Cork city, and in 1882 at the Exhibition of Irish Arts and Manufactures held in Dublin the company was awarded medals for both its Porter and its ales. They entered their beers in The Cork Exhibition the following year and won medals for its pale ale but seemingly not for their mild ale, nor its porter - so it is probable that the prize that they were advertising in this painted sign was the one awarded in 1882 although it could relate to an even later award. (Incidentally, one judge criticised their pale ale at the Cork exhibition for being made with water that was over ‘Burtonised’ with mineral additions!) The company was wound up in 1901, just a few years after its founder died, and was purchased by one of its two main rivals, Murphy’s brewery, who bought both the porter and the ale brewery as well as the tied-houses. Murphy's promptly closed down the brewing side of the enterprise, and presumably started selling their own beers in the numerous Arnott tied houses that dotted the city. Curiously and perhaps sadly, when most people hear of Arnotts these days they would think of the department stores bearing that name, which were also part of sir John’s business empire, but for a not too short period at the end of the 19th century it was a relatively large concern, it was even visited and written about briefly by Alfred Barnard, who included and described it in one of his volumes on The Noted Breweries of Great Britain and Ireland, although not in the most exciting terms.

Below we can see a plan of the brewery as it was in 1897, roughly around the same time that the sign was painted on the wall of the public house and when Barnard visited. It shows its three porter stores and the general layout of the brewery in good detail, including a sugar tank which probably shows that they were using some sugar at least - which many Irish breweries did apart from some very notable exceptions - at this time in their brewing.

The sign on the then public house appears to have been painted sometime between 1882 and 1901, given the award date and the closing of the brewery, with the original fainter wording underneath possibly dating from closer to the earlier year and second closer to the latter date. During much of this period the public house at 64 Shandon Street was being licenced by a succession of women. Catherine Healy appears to have taken it over, possibly from a Thomas Healy, in 1889. A Norah O’Connell was running the business in 1896 when she changed the licence into her married name – Buckley. Julia O’Connell was named as the licensee in 1898 and then later than our period in 1908 it was being ran by an Ellen O’Connell. During the time up to 1901 it was tied to and therefore was supposed to sell only the beers supplied by Arnott’s brewery, but even after the breweries were closed by Murphy’s in 1901 the ghostly sign remained, getting slowly fainter over the decades but a nice reminder of Ireland’s brewing history for all to see.

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But here’s an interestingly footnote. Arnott’s Prize Winning Porter returned briefly in 1997, as according to a snippet in a newspaper column from that year it was rebrewed in some form at least by Murphy’s for the release of the Ó Drisceoil’s book - The Murphy’s Story, which was published in that year. It appears to have been keg only and there were branded glasses issued bearing the name of the porter as well as that of the original brewery. Some of these glasses, and the occasional pump clip, are still to be spotted in pubs around the city of Cork if you know where to look …

Liam K

(The image of the brewery layout above is from the Goad fire insurance map from 1897, via Wikimedia Commons.)

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. The photograph is the authors own and the image cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Thursday 7 March 2024

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #18 - ‘International Bar’ Half-Pint Tankard (c. 1902)

to run “as dim eyed animals do, towards any glittering object, were it but a scoured tankard, and mistake it for a solar luminary” …

Memoirs of the Life of Scott – London and Westminster Review 1838 – Thomas Carlyle

There is something extremely appealing about public house drinkware. Even an item that has been maimed and repurposed like this once-tankard are a comforting joy when held in hand and raised ritualistically to the drinker’s lips. This vessel is certainly enigmatic in many ways, from the material it’s made from to its exact provenance, it asks more questions than it can answer. Much like a lot of our public house and brewing history it is possible to find out some information from records and writeups but sadly, much is also down to half-educated guess work and assumption. But there are some clues to its past be found on the piece itself, which at least answer some of the more basic questions it poses ... 

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This tumblerised tankard carries the word ‘1/2 Pint’ as well as the term ‘Masonoid Silver.’ It has a rubbed Edwardian stamp showing a crown flanked by a very faint later E plus an R, with the Uniform Verification Number 6 below the crown denoting it was verified in Birmingham, where it was manufactured. There is also a tiny M to the right of the verification mark whose purpose is unclear although it may reflect a date, but that Edwardian stamp puts its manufacturing firmly prior to 1910 and probably post 1902. At some point someone has removed the handle, which would have been rounded and C-shaped, and the surface is also covered in roughish scratches which means the engraved name showing the words ‘International Bar’ in, and on, a belt and buckle design is almost obliterated. Perhaps it had become damaged in use and repurposed, but as the heavier and deeper gouges are very much focussed on the engraved bar name in order to obliterate it, it would appear that the tankard may have been taken from the bar by somebody for a specific purpose, which has become lost to history.

The belt and buckle device is in fact a 'garter' and appears to have originated from the emblem of The Most Noble Order of the Garter, with the garter in question being a part of a knight's wardrobe for securing parts of the armour together or to the body. This motif turns up in many logos, decorations, and trademarks in the late 19th and early 20th century, perhaps as a way of adding an air of ostentation to a brand, company or object without it being actually connected to the order.

Masonoid Silver was a durable, bright metal alloy developed by Samuel Mason in Birmingham around or prior to 1887, when it first starts to appear under that name in publications. It was originally available in two colours, one as a replacement for silver or silver plate and another as a replacement for copper or brass. It was possibly a type of Nickel Silver, which contains mostly copper with nickel and zinc, but more was more likely similar to an early version of a more expensive alloy patented as Monel in 1906 and composed mostly of nickel with less copper than Nickel Silver and with small amounts of iron, manganese, carbon and other elements. Masonoid was used for many products, particularly those that revolve around the drinks trade such as beer engines and taps, as well as bicycle parts and other applications. The company went through a number of name changes and partnerships, such as The Masonoid Silver and Midland Rolling Mills in 1898, before disappearing from historical mentions by the end of the second decade of the twentieth century and is now only remembered in objects like this.


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It is tricky to ascertain exactly which International Bar this tankard was made for as there appears to have been at least three public houses bearing that name on the island in the very early 1900s. There are newspaper mentions that reference an International Bar on Market Street in Derry, which was operating around the same time and had a reopening in 1907, which certainly ties in with the date of the tankard. There also appears to have been a pub of the same name in Newtownards and perhaps one in Belfast. It is quite possible that this object relates to any of those bars but it is equally conceivable that the tankard came from The International Bar in Dublin. (Especially given that it was discovered in a shop that specialises in house clearances from the Dublin area.) This bar still exists and appears to have been quite a salubrious spot since the very late 1890s, so it would certainly suit as an establishment that had commissioned its own personalised tankards, but sadly there is no recorded proof of this in the common sources.


The Dublin based International Bar began its beverage selling life on a slightly smaller scale than its current footprint, as it was originally focussed on the side of the building that sits on 8 St. Andrew Street, although with some frontage also on to Wicklow Street as it sat on that corner. As far back as 1827 a Mrs. B Cavenagh (also spelled Kavanagh) had a grocery, tea, wine and spirit warehouse on the site, and a possibly related James Kavanagh of the same address was declared insolvent in 1838, having let the license go into arrears the previous year and the building go into a state of disrepair, so the lease was up for sale at that point. The premises was taken over by a John Hoyne in that year and repairs were made to the building before he was granted a publican’s license, although it was opposed by some local people on the grounds that there were already 19 public houses on nearby Exchequer Street alone! A wonderfully, Joycean named person called Stephen Pidgeon applied for a license for the premises in 1839 and 1840, before it was taken on by John Dunne in 1843. Mr. Dunne appears to have ran it as a spirit grocers until his death in 1880, and by 1885 it was being operated by a John Cox. In 1887 Michael O’ Donohoe, a Cavan native, applied for a license to retail alcohol at 8 St. Andrew Street and was also leasing the 23 Wicklow Street building around the corner by 1892. (That address also appears to have been occupied by a tailor’s shop and then a jeweller and clockmaker, which overlap slightly with the O’Donohoe lease dates, but that might have been on the upper levels of the building or it may have been sublet.) In 1897 Mr. O’Donohoe applied for a new licence to sell alcohol on that attached building on Wicklow Street, it now being an extension of his original business. But big changes were afoot …

On Friday the 5th of August 1898 the International Bar, as it was then named and as it appears today, was opened as a completely new build on the two sites acquired by Mr. O’ Donohoe. A newspaper advertisement from this time reads thus:

THE INTERNATIONAL
ST. ANDREW ST. & WICKLOW ST.
___ 

M. O’DONOHOE

Begs to inform his Friends and the Public that his New Premises,

THE INTERNATIONAL BAR,
WILL BE OPENED
ON
NEXT FRIDAY, the 5th inst.

This Establishment has been fitted up throughout with the Electric Light, generated on the premises by powerful electric generator, worked gas engine of Crossley Bros, Warrington, and has already been pronounced by competent judges one of the finest of its class to be found either home or on the Continent.

In point Architectural Design and Beauty it stands second none. The art decorations and ornamentation are of the most modern and up-to-date style. The plans were designed by George O’Connor. Esq, MRIAI, and the building was carried out under his personal supervision. The Sanitary arrangements are of the most Modern Type, and ate complete In every respect.

The International has been built and fitted up regardless of expense.

It is intended it should occupy a foremost place amongst the Establishment class in this city, where Gentlemen from every part the world will find every accommodation and their requirements catered for in the best manner under the personal supervision of the Proprietor.

The Refreshments, both Home and Foreign, will all of the very best manufactured, and no inferior qualities will kept slock.
___ 
THE BRANDIES, CHAMPAGNES, WHISKIES, AND WINES,
OF ALL KINDS, TOGETHER WITH
ALES. BEERS, PORTER, STOUT, AND MINERALS, &c., &c.,
HAVE BEEN SUPPLIED BY THE LEADING MANUFACTURERS,
And will found fully Matured, and in the finest. Condition.
The CIGARS, &c., are all selected from the Best Brands.
Mr. O’D. Cordially Invites the Public to Visit his ESTABLISHMENT,
and he guarantees them every attention and courtesy.
___ 
LUNCHEONS OFF JOINTS A SPECIALITY.
___ 
NOTE ...
THE INTERNATIONAL
ST. ANDREW AND WICKLOW STREET
M. O’DONOHOE, Proprietor

Another advertisement from later in the month is of a similar vein and includes the following paragraph:

The proprietor begs to inform his numerous friends and customers and the public generally that this magnificent establishment - the finest in the city - is now in full swing and worthy the attention of connoisseurs.

THE BEST OF EVERYTHING SUPPLIED
___

J.J. & SON'S WHISKIES,
GUINNESS'S STOUT,
BASS'S ALE,
Etc, Etc, Etc

It is certainly a fine building of excellent design and sits very handsomely to this day on that site. No expense appears to have been spared with its build and fit out so it is hardly surprising that shiny new tankards may have been purchased for the premises a few years later, engraved with the bars name. 

Mr. O’Donohoe died in October 1904, and his funeral was attended by most of the other licensed traders in Dublin, a sign surely of how well he was thought of by his peers.

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It could be argued that this object is more connected to beer serving and public houses than with actual Irish brewing history, but both are of course intrinsically linked so it is impossible to have a conversation about one without involving the other.

Irish pubs have always been an essential part of Irish brewery history, albeit with their former fondness for English-brewed Bass et al., and their present dalliances with foreign lager brands – although at least, as with an iteration of Bass at one time, many are brewed in Irish breweries.

The Irish brewing industry should - rightly - evolve, improve, and embrace the new, but Ireland has lost most of its breweries over the last couple of centuries. They became hollowed out brands within the portfolios of drink corporations, detached and rebooted as one-off, one-dimensional beers, with their history discarded, disfigured, and diluted. But many of the public houses that served the beer from lost breweries still exist in one form or another, and they are entangled in our brewing provenance and 'heritage,' to use an overused word. Many of the public houses of Ireland have now become the historical repositories of our relatively recent beer-laded past, as they have become aesthetics-driven exhibitions of artefacts and ephemera from that now-lost era, even though they lack perhaps the knowledge, the interest, or the want to communicate any of this history to their customers. Understandably, many focus on their own history – sometimes scribbled on the back of a beer mat over a few pints after closing time it appears – but not on the actual libations they pulled and poured over previous decades or centuries.

A cynic might say that there is little point in trying to communicate history of any type to those who don’t care, but in many cases it is how that information is communicated is the key. Irish bars are certainly good at storytelling, but for today's audience they need something more than just words, they need something tangible and ‘real,’ a touchable connection to our brewing past that will engage the customer and stimulate some conversation. It might be that framed letterhead from Mountjoy Brewery, or the beer label on the wall for D’Arcy’s Stout. It could be an old, embossed bottle from a famous Sligo brewhouse sitting on a shelf, or a price list from a Kilkenny brewery listing all of its beers.

It might even be a worn and damaged tankard that may in the past have been filled with a half pint of plain porter or a pale ale in a newly built bar in a busy city.

These stories need telling, before all of our history is completely worn away …

Liam K

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. The photograph and tankard itself are the authors own and the image cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!