The Guinness Blacklist – Testing the Taste Buds & Challenging Convention

If there's one thing that will anger and traumatise a certain type of Guinness drinker it's the thought of blending their hallowed tipple with any other drink. Okay, so there's more than one thing, there are many things that will cause their teeth to gnash – from the glass, to the pour, to the size of the head, and a host of other perceived serious issues that will somehow cause that stout to taste awful. But probably top of that pile, nothing should be added to their stout on pain of death by a 1,000 social media replies – with perhaps the exception of a grudging dash of blackcurrant. This preciousness around Guinness seems to be a relatively recent phenomenon, probably driven by an internet obsession with the image of the so-called perfect pint. It has of late become sacrosanct and yet another example of the swapping of one flawed religion for another form of worship, complete with preachers and gurus.

But this quest for idolatry and purity of vision/taste hasn't always been the case, as there was a time when even Guinness themselves, albeit their English marketing division, were promoting (to a point) something that would horrify many a drinker of their beer today.

So, let the traumatisation and gnashing begin.

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The summer of 1975 was a hot one in the UK, as was the following year so if there was ever a time to float the idea of mixing Guinness with other libations it would appear that the marketing department of the Guinness brewery at Park Royal in London picked the right years, given that Guinness is often categorised – erroneously – as a winter drink for cold weather. It was in in that year that the Guinness Blacklist was launched, with a somewhat begrudging tone it seems, on the UK's unsuspecting public. The time of the launch and promotion seems to be coincidental to the sudden flip to hot weather, as it would have had to be planned months before, but it certainly was fortuitous if the idea was to keep people drinking stout and not change to the cold lager that was becoming more and more abundant as the drink of choice in pubs and in the home at this time. But as we will see, given the tone of the marketing message it was more about a clever form of advertising perhaps that a very serious attempt to change the drinking habits of Guinness drinkers.

From the 11th of June 1975 advertisement began to appear in national newspapers in the UK in a slightly admonishing tone telling Guinness drinkers that although the brewery knew it was happening that weren't really that keen on the idea of Guinness being drank with anything added to it. They claimed they knew it was happening and had a complied a leaflet that listed what they saw as the common additions to their famous stout. Called the Guinness Blacklist, the name working well to both describe a list of black drinks as well as those that were disapproved of, and it contained a list of twenty Guinness blends that they say they felt were interesting, each accompanied by an illustration. The list could be obtained for free by filling in a coupon and sending it off to a promotion company on Brentford high street. Perhaps spurred on by the hot weather, by the following summer the tone of the advertisements had softened to resignation, to the point where in September 1976 similar advertisements for the list were almost begging drinkers to try a Guinness shandy.

The tone of the opening blurb on the list itself is almost sceptical resignation in its thoughts and opinion on the practice of mixing.

When we started to compile the Blacklist, we little realised how much people have been experimenting with Guinness.

It seems there's scarcely a drink that hasn't, at one time or another, shared the same glass as our dark, distinctive beer.

Reluctantly, we have to admit that many of the mixtures we tried were surprisingly pleasant. Others provoked, well, mixed feelings.

We suggest you try a few careful experiments at home, or down at the pub, and make up your own mind about mixing Guinness.

You may find some of the drinks we mention have different names from those you're used to.

The fact is, names of drinks differ widely from one part of the country to another. (For example, at least three different mixers go under the name Longship.)

Similarly, the origin of many of these drinks is somewhat uncertain. If in doubt, we've stuck to the most entertaining, if not believable, stories.

However, we'd be grateful for any further information about the practice of Guinness-mixing.

In fact, if there's anything you'd like to add, let us know.

The leaflet then goes on to list and illustrate the various blends that may or may not have existed. Some certainly did but some are also a little questionable in history, origin if not just general appeal.

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So what were these blends and what did they taste like? Well, there is only one way to find out ...

(A note on blending: These drinks will be thoroughly mixed, unlike what seems to be a newish method of beer 'blending' where the two products are layered one over the other. That is not a blended drink, it is two separate drinks in one glass and it's pointless from a tasting perspective, even if it is quite photogenic in its appearance.)

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Top Hat

The history behind most of these names deserves to be taken with a fair degree of scepticism, and this so-called 'popular drink' seems to have gone almost unreported in publication at this time, although there is a mention from the previous century, and in more very recent times of course. In general, factual content might be a little hard to come by with regard to some of these names and their provenance, but that's not quite the point of this exercise, and no doubt this mix was tried by drinkers at some point in the early part of the 20th century too.

The suggestion in the advertisements was that these blends be tried in the pub or at home, both with bottled Guinness Extra (now called Original) of with the draught version. This one called for ginger as a mixer so I selected Crabbies and a small bottle of Extra Stout. Back in the day this would have been a half pint bottle of stout not a 330ml, and the ginger beer may or may not have been alcoholic like this one, but it seemed a good choice. This is really the stout-based version of a drink called a shandy gaff.

At first it was mixed half-and-half but on tasting the blend the ginger was too dominant, its mild spice-burn was followed by an unpleasant acrid quality from what remained of the stout flavour, the roast barley, which left the whole drink tasting like a cheap coffee and ginger mix with no redeeming quality.

I persisted. Adding more stout to the mix, and using something closer to a 1 part ginger beer to 2 parts stout, made a huge difference to the experience. With the ginger beer now slotting into the background the flavours of the stout could be easily discerned, and this new ratio transformed it into a completely different drink. Gone was the over spicy heat and that lingering burnt flavour and what we now had was a very pleasant drink that hovered somewhere between and brown ale that was using some new-fangled New-World hops and some type of fancy spiced cola beverage. Success at the second attempt, and I can certainly see the appeal of this one. Not offensive in any way and perhaps a pleasant winter drink? Maybe mulled with a poker?! Regardless, it can be recommended to try, but watch the ratio of stout to ginger beer..

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Calcutta Cup

This blend gets the odd mention in more modern times but seems elusive in the Empire days based on a quick and, admittedly, unthorough hunt of old newspapers and books. There is certainly some logic to adding tonic to anything in certain climates given its protective qualities, but again the name and the history seem to be a little forced. It did certainly exist from at the very least the 1960s although perhaps not under that name.

I chose a small bottle of Guinness Extra Stout for this one too, along with a small can of Schweppes tonic water. I was a little wary of the tonic so mixed it roughly 1 part to 5 of the stout at first. That quantity had little effect on the drink, it just added a little cloying sweetness, so as with the Top Hat I reblended with 1 part tonic to 2 parts Guinness. This added an odd but rather nice coppery metallic bitterness to the drink that balanced the sweetness a little and something resinous too, like a mild lychee flavour perhaps? Although that might have been down to tropical empirical thoughts.

I'm not sure, but in a blind tasting you might just think it was some sort of too-clever artisan porter? It was very refreshing, and I could see it being popular in hot weather, or if one was blighted with mosquitos, but I think it might be difficult to drink it in large quantities with that still-lingering sweetness. Perhaps a different brand of tonic would give a different outcome on that front.

It's certainly one to try and it is quite inoffensive, if hardly inspiring.

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Wasp Sting

The thought of mixing Guinness with orange juice sounds, even to me, as deeply unappealing as the effects of the name of this concoction. And the first half-and-half pour didn’t do anything to change my opinion. It ends up a murky brown colour with no head retention and an overpowering orange aroma. The bitterness of the orange juice clashes dreadfully with the bitterness of the stout with just a tiny redeeming quality of something sweet and cola-like right at the end. This is certainly one that would be best served ice-cold to mask the flavours, as it is quite unpleasant at this ratio.

But let’s persevere. Remixing at the two parts Guinness to one part orange juice changes it completely. The murkiness is now masked by the dark stout, and the head retention is somewhat better making it visually more appealing. There is still a strong orange juice smell just before you dive in but it’s not offensive, and the taste is better, with the stout and orange juice's bitterness more balanced by being unbalanced. It’s not quite Terry’s Chocolate Orange territory but it’s certainly heading in that vague direction, albeit a dark chocolate version. At this ratio it’s definitely more acceptable but not one I’ll be rushing back to try anytime soon. It certainly feels like it was put into the list like a filler used on album with just a few proper hits.

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Black Velvet

This is certainly one of the best-known Guinness cocktails, achieving fame and perhaps some notoriety too. I took a small liberty with this one by using Prosecco instead of champagne, but I can’t see that drastically changing the outcome flavour wise. The Blacklist suggest a fifty-fifty ratio so that’s what I began with and at that mix it was quite a pleasant drink if a little, well, boring. It tasted very much like a sweetish cider with a little kick of grape must or juice. It’s very easy to drink, too easy perhaps, and not stout-like in any way. Very inoffensive.

I then changed to my now standard 2-to-1 mix of stout to mixer and this completely transformed the experience. A dark cocoa taste was quite prominent now and at this ratio it tasted like a sourish dark ale of some description. The sweetness has practically disappeared too and I would imagine that this would absolutely confuse anyone on a blind tasting of sour beers. It really is quite a pleasant drink, and is still dangerously drinkable. It’s certainly one I’d return too, perhaps next time with actual champagne!

But what of the purported history in the Blacklist of it being invented at the Brooks’s Club in London in 1861? I can find no trace of that history prior to the publication of the list in the mid-seventies but it is certainly a drink with a lot of other history. Stout or porter mixed with champagne has been around for a very long time, with various stories and characters attached to it over the many years of its existence.

The actual first mention I can find is by Edward Lear in his 1851 book Journals of a Landscape Painter where he recounts that in 1848 while dining with Osman Mazhar Pasha, a governor in the Ottoman Empire, a captain of the guard was made to drink ‘an amazing mixture of porter and champagne, assuring him it was a species of Frank soup, which he seemed to like little enough.’

The German writer Otfrid Mylius mentions it in London Mysteries: Contemporary Social Scenes published in 1867 where he states that. ‘Kitty, the chambermaid, passed around the intoxicating mixture of porter and champagne during the break, which the dancers sipped rather immodestly.’

The one character who seems most closely connected with the drink is Otto von Bismarck, of which there are innumerable accounts from various sources (many just copying another mind) of it being his favourite tipple in or around the 1840s(?), albeit in publications from a few decades later. Some accounts even have it named after him, a 'Bismarck' being another name for the drink. (Not to be outdone, Paul von Hindenburg favoured an ‘East Prussia Cup’ where the blend of stout and champagne is fortified with brandy and burgundy!)

The American Harry Johnson mentions it in his Bartender’s Manual published in 1882 calling it a 'Champagne Velvet' using 'Irish porter' and champagne in a half-and-half ratio and stating the name comes from the drink making you ‘feel in a short time as fine as silk.’ So not actual feeling like velvet, strangely.

It is mentioned in Cakes & Ale, a Memory of Many Meals by Edward Spencer (Nathaniel Gubbins) in 1897 in his list of ‘Cups & Cordials’ where he name-checks Guinness and states that is one of the ‘best [beer] combinations possible’ and that it should be ‘drunk out of a pewter tankard, and is specially recommended as a between-the-acts refresher for the amateur actor.’

It was reported in 1902 that Cecil Rhodes also drank this blend, and it was called a ‘Velvet’, but known in South Africa as an ‘Imperial Shandy’ and by the early 1920s and into the 1930s it was being called a 'Black Velvet' as well as a 'Royal Shandy', where it is mentioned as being a revived Edwardian party drink and that the actress Miss Margret Rawlings was mainly responsible for said revival, while other newspaper sources claim it was ‘introduced’ by an Australian cricket team on tour in England and that the ‘Royal Shandy’ originated there.

Yet another newspaper report from the 1930s states that the mix of stout to champagne should be ’75-25 per cent’, which is close to my preferred ratio. The same report, where it is called a ‘Royal Shandy’ again and stating that it is sometimes called a Black Velvet, say that 'it was popular during the eighteenth century at the French Courts, where porter specially brewed by a Lord Mayor of London, Sir John Parsons, was “laced” with native champagne.' Now, Parsons died in 1717 so it would have been quite an early iteration of porter which was used! And one more unverified mention in a newspaper even claims it was invented by the wine steward to Russian Emperor Peter III, the husband of Catherine the Great. He died in 1762, so that pulls it back by many decades, if true of course, which it probably isn't.

The truth is probably that the drink has likely been made for as long as the two ingredients have existed and, regardless of the persons involved, this mix of two popular drinks most likely it dates back to the 18th century, and it's origins appear to point vaguely towards the continent but that certainly may not be the case.

I could go on but I won't, as there are many mentions of this mix of drinks in one form or another, with different names, over the last 175 years – that we do know at least. Plus, it appears that the name Black Velvet is at least 100 years old and the Velvet part predates that by another quarter of a century or so.

It seems to have many stories and legends attached to it, as to what's true and what's not I've no firm opinion other than the quote in the Blacklist appears to be wrong.

It's still a rather nice drink in the right ratios though.

-o-

Trojan Horse

Many years ago, I was on a trip to Düsseldorf and after a busy day of sightseeing, and a little drinking and eating, I ended up in a dark and moody bar on some side street in the city staring at a drinks menu. Scanning the list and not really knowing what I felt like I spied something called Krefelder. It wasn’t a brewery or beer I had heard of but there it was sitting with the list of local altbiers and it puzzled me how I hadn’t come across it previously, although Krefeld is a town close to the city. Well, I decided to rectify that by ordering one, but to my dismay what landed at my table was just altbier mixed with cola, a Krefelder!

I’ve no recollection of having such a mix since but here it is on the list so it needs to be revisited again, albeit with bottled stout and not altbier this time.

On the face of it, this blend should work, as they are both dark, although that’s pretty inconsequential of course, but the general flavours in cola and porters are relatively similar in many ways. So as far as making a porter shandy then it would certainly be the soft drink of choice to my mind. Cola is much sweeter compared to the double bitterness of this stout, from both the hops and burnt barley, but they certainly share a similar space on the palate. Red ale and red lemonade, and lager and, er, lemon-coloured lemonade are similar bedfellows to my mind too, although those are certainly based on colour matching as much as flavours. Perhaps.

Anyhow, the first mix was my usual half and half again, and the first impression was how dirty the head was, with black peaks to the craggy foam. The cola is quite dominant taste wise but after the initial hit of flavoured sweetness a very pleasant wash of bitterness and enhanced coffee-type taste cleans up the palate. It is actually extremely pleasant and has elements of a sort of fancy artisan, alcoholic coffee-cola if such thing existed. This was certainly a success in so far as creating a pleasant drink was concerned.

Buoyed by this triumph the drink was remixed at two parts Guinness to one part cola to see if that changed my opinion on how these drinks worked together. It didn’t, it only reinforced it.

This mix was probably even a bit better, it was certainly more balanced although there was a touch more astringency to the blend but not in an unpleasant way, if that's possible, as it worked well with the sweet cola flavour, which was a little more muted now of course. There was also a really nice silkiness to the drink, almost nitro-like although this wasn’t a nitro stout I had used. I could really see this being a successful low-ish alcohol drink for summer, or winter for that matter. This ratio was certainly the better blend for me, although the other was very palatable too.

Maybe the good people of Krefeld were right after all?!

-o-

Sensible Shoes

Mixing a brown ale with a stout seems almost like a waste of time as they are perhaps too similar in many (although not all) ways, so this seemed a predictable one. Brown ales are a scarce commodity to source on this island, and I wanted to resist using Newcastle Brown Ale, although in hindsight it might be the better option. I chose instead an American style brown that I thought might have a little more of the mentioned sweetness to it along with the extra charge of hops.

At the usual starting point blending of a half and half mix it seemed a little dull perhaps? It was like both drinks were a little lost in the blend. It was a very drinkable mix but there was an odd dryness to it more so than any sweet flavours coming through. Nothing of note or excitement so far.

Next, I tried two-thirds brown to one-third stout to try to up the sweetness and bring out the flavours of what is a very decent brown ale. This was much better, with more body, less odd dryness and a nice fruity resinous edge coming out from the hops in the brown ale. Right at the end there were nice notes of coffee and lemon too, giving this ration of a blend a pleasant if not spectacular finish.

Lastly, for a final comparison, I blended two-thirds stout to one-third of the brown ale. This was certainly a little more interesting than the half-and-half mix but was perhaps a little bit harsher, without any of the pleasant flavours of the brown ale coming through, and it certainly isn’t the best blend for my palate at least.

Clearly using more of the brown ale is the key, but I must revisit this one with something like Newcastle, it might be a better exercise give that it’s Guinness and not a more flavoursome stout.

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Snake Bite

The term as used for a mixture of cider and beer certainly dates back to the early 1960s and stout and cider mixed together is mentioned in the previous decade in court newspaper reports, although most early mentions are unclear about whether they were both mixed together in one glass or just mixed in ill-fated drinking sessions. I think there can be no doubt that mixing cider with porter, or stout, happened not long after porter's appearance in the 18th century but I can find no mention of the West Country reference that Guinness claim in any common sources based on a quick look. Guinness mixed with cider most certainly existed before the publication of the Blacklist but from exactly what period is anyone’s guess!

At the standard half-and-half mix this is actually quite refreshing. It has a bitter apple, perhaps Bramley-like, quality that somewhat reminds me of a dry, fancy, barrel-age cider. There’s a little toffee there too, and an earthy spiciness. I’m convinced it would fool the judges in a cider-tasting competition, although adding it would be unfair – if fun.

But at two-thirds cider to one-third Guinness the cheapness of the cider comes through quite strongly, giving just a bare barley sugar quality to the mix if I’m being generous, as the complexity of the half-and-half mix is not there. It is certainly drinkable but not noteworthy in any way.

The opposite mix of two-thirds Guinness to one-third cider isn’t really successful either, with the bitterness of the stout overwhelming the cider to create a bit of a mess of off flavours on the palate. Just harshness with too-burnt butterscotch.

So the half-and-half is the best mix and is actually quite a nice drink!

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Red Head

This is certainly the mix I have been least enthusiastic, but most curious, about trying, as it seems to have been added to the list as either a dare by the marketing department or just something to cause controversy.

I didn’t risk mixing this at anything greater than roughly one-fifth tomato juice to four-fifths Guinness, and I had hoped for something with a vague hint of a Bloody Mary perhaps?

Appearance wise it wasn’t very appealing, with the tomato juice not mixing very well with the stout and the pulp forming ring around the glass rim. As soon as you bring the glass to your mouth your olfactory senses are assailed by underripe Dutch tomatoes. The taste that followed didn’t really improve the whole experience and the whole think left a literal unpleasant taste in the mouth. Cheap stout meets cheap toms!

This was the point where I realised I probably should have strained the juice and added a little something too it, perhaps some sugar and salt, pepper, and a little spice? I added some salt to the glass, causing a brief eruption, and a little sugar but at this point I was really losing faith with the blend as a drink. I had hoped for improvement, if not a bit of that Bloody Mary quality then some sort of dark chocolate gazpacho would have sufficed, but in actual fact all I created was a wave of nausea.

But, I really didn’t want to give up.

So I created a different drink. I salted the rim of a shot glass, put in a splash of the tomato juice and a dash of tabasco sauce, topped it up carefully with some Guinness and downed it.

You know what? It was actually okay! It was perhaps even refreshing and pleasant. A palate cleanser of a sort.

I can’t find any historical references to this drink prior to the mid-seventies but it is worth noting that Guinness have a recipe for a ‘proper’ Bloody Mary using their beer on their website.

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Longship

The history and name of this drink appear to me completely fictious as you might have guessed, and until the modern era their appears to be no record of this blend, although it was most likely tried at some point prior to the publication of the list. There are those who call a ‘Half and Half’ a blend of these two drinks but most would agree that that term refers to stout mixed with a pale ale or a bitter, and more on that, and the dreaded term ‘Black & Tan’, when we get to those mixtures.

First up I should probably have used a Scandinavian lager with the false history given for this mixture, but someone had left a can of Carling in the house so that is what I used here. I first mixed the beers half-and-half (lower case!), and it certainly looked pleasant enough but on tasting it was very obvious what you get if you mix a dull lager with a dullish stout, you get a dull mix. The lager certainly mutes the stout’s dryness and roast character a little but adds nothing of interest in any real way. It’s by no means an offensive drink, just a little boring.

Next I tried it at one-third stout to two-thirds lager and this was much better. You could get a nice cheap milk chocolate quality with subtle cheese-rind bitterness. It was quite like a light brown ale or, at a push, a dark helles lager, if such a thing exists. The whole effect was quite pleasant and soft and something I’d have no hesitation in trying in a bar given the right mood and conditions!

Lastly I tried the mix at 2-thirds stout to one-third lager but at that ratio the stout really takes over and all the lager brings is small bit cornflake-like sweetness. Again, this was okay and perhaps a little more interesting than the half-and-half mix but not a patch on the lager-heavy blend. That is certainly the best mixture for my palate.

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Midnight

Here’s another of what seems to be a tall tale from the Guinness marketing department in London. Apart from anything else it is unlikely that Guinness was ever put into a decanter as an after-dinner drink? Poured into a jug or similar from a cask definitely, but the mention of that Guinness decanter lost any credibility of that story being a real history to this blend.

But the mixture itself certainly did exist. It is mentioned on occasion in newspapers or by those reminiscing on times past including the odd airman during WWII so maybe there is a little grain of truth to one aspect of the marketing here? It certainly is a known blend nowadays, if not too common.

I must admit here to being a bit ambivalent towards port as a drink, I have enjoyed it in the city from where it takes its name but any time before or since I found it too dry or with and unbalanced sweetness on its own. Perhaps I just need to try more port!

Anyhow, I persevered and mixed this half-and-half in a suitable glass, using a tawny port for the experiment, which is my preferred style.

This was a mini-revelation as the stout actually rounded out the port a little, added more depth and a welcome touch of effervescence. It was a small drink and I finished it quite quickly, and as I took that last sip, I finally figured out what it reminded me of? It was those Cola Cube hard sweets from my past, which added a welcome aftertaste of nostalgia to the proceedings.

FYI, I have seen and heard of those who mix a measure of port with a full pint of Guinness but I haven’t tried that, as it might get a little lost in there and also that’s not how it was drank it the illustration. Mind you, I also didn’t decant the stout!

But that goes down as a success, regardless of its history.

-o-

That's ten down, only ten more to go, and nice to finally reach the halfway stage!

More to follow soon ...

Liam K

A Deep Dive into the Wreck of the Mindora and that Bottle of Guinness

It began with a shipwreck.

Late on Sunday night, another fearful collision took place in the Channel a few miles to the westward of the South Foreland, which, it is feared, has proved fatal to both ships. The ill-fated vessels are reported to have been the Khersonese, a very large ship, bound to Calcutta from London, and the Mindora, barque, Captain Hall, also from London, bound to Victoria (Vancouver's Island), with passengers and a valuable general cargo. The telegrams which have been received announcing the catastrophe are rather brief in the particulars. It appears that the collision took place off Folkestone, or rather near the Varne, the ships coming together with fearful violence. The Mindora is stated to have been abandoned in a sinking state seven or eight miles south-west by west of the South Foreland, having then six feet of water in her hold, and that the crew and passengers had landed at Kingsdown, near Walmer. […] Both ships and cargoes are insured for a very heavy amount.

The Liverpool Mercury – Wednesday, 30th November 1864

Such was the sad fate of the Mindora (AKA Mindoro), a brand new barque – a versatile type of sailing ship – that was launched in Sunderland in August of that year, 1864. It was built in the Pallion shipyard of Mr. William Adamson, and was a 436 ton ship measuring 136 feet by 27 feet 8 inches and registered and owned by the Adamson family. By the end of that month, it was being readied to be loaded at London Docks, where prospective passengers or shippers were invited to apply to various agents in the city regarding passage to Victoria on Vancouver Island, Canada of people or product. It set sail on the 20th of November with Captain Hall in charge and a crew of 13, plus 3 male and 3 female passengers¹, plus a fully loaded hold.

The ship was heading towards the English Channel on its westward turn when the collision reported above occurred on the night of 27th of November 1864 in poor weather, and although the Khersonese eventually limped back to London the Mindora was not so lucky. Eventually sinking with all its cargo but at least with no loss of life.

And what became of that cargo? Well a newspaper report in July of the following years² tells us more:

DOVER, July 4. - The Mindoro (barq.), of London, Hall, from London to Victoria, V.I., which was abandoned in a sinking state 28th Nov., after collision with the Khersonese, from London to Calcutta, has been found sunk four miles off this place. The divers engaged report that she is nearly upright, and that the lower masts are standing, but dangerous to shipping, as there are only three fathoms upon her mast heads.

They position where it sunk must have been roughly noted or recorded at the time, and it seems to be in relatively shallow water, with just five and a half meters of ocean over her mast heads. We can also see that efforts were being made to dive on the boat, and yet another report³ in a newspaper's Maritime Extracts gives us the following news from Dover on the 28th of July:

The undermentioned goods were landed here to-day by the divers, being the first portion of the cargo of the Mindoro barque, which lies sunk about four miles off this port:—14 casks of Bass's pale ale; 4 dozen marked “M D O”, from Cameron and Saunders; 8 cases cognac (Jas. Hennessey's), marked “G N”, “E H”, “Twis”; 1 bale linen shirts; 1 basket female wearing apparel; 2 large cases marked “J W” in a diamond “V” outside; also, 2 water casks, and some breakers painted green.

So just a few months after its sinking, divers were already pulling up both drink and clothing from the wreck. The lettering mentioned are intriguing and are perhaps the initials of the end receiver of the goods in Victoria? (The MDO might be an abbreviation for the ship but the other letters would not make sense then?) Also of interest is the Cameron and Saunders mentioned with regard to casks recovered, and more on those names later.

Then in September of 1865, still less than a year after the ship sank, we get the first mention of the focus of this article – stout!⁴

At DOVER—For the benefit of all to whom it may concern.

Important Salvage Sale.

At the STORES in HAWKESBURY-STREET, DOVER,

On TUESDAY, SEPTEMBER 5, 1865, at Eleven precisely,

By Mr. T. G. BROWNING,

A CHOICE COLLECTION OF CLOTHING,

Consisting of cloth coats, moleskin trowsers, felt and straw hats; also, a quantity of Hoyles superior prints, bareges, muslin curtains, Lenos mohairs, silk parasols; a puncheon of rum, sundry cases brandy, ale, and stout; case of eau de cologne, and sundry other articles;—salved from the wreck of the ship Mindora, sunk off Dover on a voyage from London to Victoria, Vancouver's Island. Particulars will be given in catalogues to be obtained of the Auctioneer, High-street, Whitstable; or of Mr. W. J. IRON, Receiver of Wrecks, 1, Cross Wall, Dover. Samples of goods may be viewed on the day prior to the sale, from Ten to Four o'clock.

Yet another newspaper's Maritime Extract from Dover on September the 29th states that, ‘A quantity of goods [has been] recovered from the sunken ship Mindora, consisting of brandy, &c. The ship lies in deep water’. This report, though scant on the actual salvaged cargo, gives us the names of the ‘diving cutters’ that recovered the goods, Fear Not, Nancy and Mandamus. (One wonders if this is 3 ships or 2?!)⁵

A report in a different newspaper⁶ on the same date gives us an idea of what those good are, minus the brandy:

A Large quantity of WOOLLEN, COTTON, and other GOODS, consisting of about 4,000 pairs stockings and socks, 10,000 yards prints, 500 yards flannel, 4,000 yards unbleached cotton, 50 Macintosh coats, 500 merino shirts, 40 pieces barage, 400 pairs of merino and other drawers, 70 doz. cambric handkerchiefs, 500 yards cloth, 200 woollen shawls, and sundry articles of clothing, woollens, &c.

And there’s even more the following month, when, ‘A Large assortment of Ladies' superior LINEN and COTTON UNDERCLOTHING of the best manufacture, 100 doz. Men's Cotton Socks, 40 pieces sup. Alpaca, about 50 pairs Men's Shoes, and sundry articles’ are offered for sale from the wreck.⁷

And incredibly, the recovery of goods continues, with the following advertisement⁸ appearing in December 1865:

For the Benefit of All to Whom it may Concern. TO BE SOLD BY AUCTION, BY MR. T. G. BROWNING, ON TUESDAY, DECEMBER, 5TH, 1865, At Eleven o'clock precisely, AT the STORES in HAWKESBURY STREET, about 60 Cases of Brandy, Three Cases Wine, One Cask Brandy, 1 Puncheon Rum, and sundry other articles, salved from the wreck of the ship 'Mindora,' sunk off Dover on a voyage from London to Victoria, Van Couvers[sic] Island. Catalogues with particulars can be obtained of the Auctioneer, High-street, Whitstable; or of Mr. W. J. Iron, Shipping and Insurance Agent, 1, Cross-wall, Dover.

That appears to be quite a large quantity of bottles, 60 cases of brandy alone would amount to large consignment to be ‘rescued’ from the bottom of the sea and combined with the other goods recovered and those perhaps not reported it seems to have been a very worthwhile salvage venture.

We are not finished yet as in June the following year – 1866 – someone was yet again diving and landing goods in Dover, with 2 cases of cotton prints and 2 cases of ginger being brought up and reports that the now intended to ‘blow the decks out of the Mindora’ to get at even more cargo.⁹

And last but not least, the following month we get a report¹⁰ that on the 30th of June 1866 that more goods were hauled up:

The following goods were landed by the divers this afternoon:—2 casks bottled stout, 30 muslin curtains, 2 pieces damask, 10 pieces prints, 2 pieces alpaca, 6 stools, and a case of ginger, from the wreck of the Mindora.

Finally we have some more stout being raised and a better indication of how they were stored. So packed into casks not crates.

(There is another mention of stout being offered for sale from the ship but the stock is combined with that from another wreck so it can’t be verified to come from the Mindora.)

What is incredible is the sheer amount of salvage being lifted from the wreck, and that it survived the salt water. Whatever about the bottles and clothing, the ginger must have been well pickled!

It is worth noting to that shipwrecks were incredibly common in this era, as was the loss of goods to the sea, much of it unreclaimed unlike the cargo of the Mindora. There are, or were, probably tens of thousands of bottles of beer sitting on the floor of the oceans of the world, a fair few whose contents would have originated in Ireland, and especially from the Guinness brewery.

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Now we can finally jump forward 161 years from the ships sinking and a story of a diver finding a Guinness bottle (which morphed into 20 in some reports) in the wreck of the Mindora in 2025, which has just recently been reported in dozens of online articles. According to the embossed base, the bottle contains Guinness Extra Stout from Cameron and Saunders, who we might remember were mentioned above in a newspaper report of salvaged stock, and this branding is repeated on the top of the capsule that covers the caged and corked top. As we can see from the older newspaper reports above, a huge amount of the cargo was salvaged from the wreck in the years after the ships sinking including some bottles of stout that we might assume were from Cameron and Saunders given the recent find and the name-check above with regard to casks recovered.

We now know that this is not the first bottle of stout to be salvaged from the wreck so it is possible that no more remain, despite the mention of others being suspected to be there by the diver Stefan Panis. Although it is certainly more than possible that one cask, or crate, was missed during the original salvage and more are somewhere within or without the wreck, waiting for the sands to shift to reveal themselves, or that they were buried deep in the hold and still sit there biding their time for discovery.

Depending on maritime law it is possible that others may not dive on the site in order to dig for what they see as buried treasure, as the site appears to be relatively well known in diving circles.

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The label on this recently found bottle has long since disappeared but this playing card image¹¹ produced by Cameron & Saunders shows a label for such a beer. This might be later than those shipped on the Mindora but it is possible that they are the same design or similar that would have been affixed to the bottles. Images of the bottles from current news reports and social media are typical of the heavy shoulder bottles used at this time, especially for export, although the embossing is a nice touch as is the capsule that covers the top of the bottle and matches somewhat the logo in the centre of the label facsimile shown here. The recently found bottle appears to be pint but is possibly a quart size, so 2 Imperial Pints? Although the pictures are unclear and Guinness's stouts was shipped in both sizes to Victoria according to advertisements from this time. What we can say is that Cameron & Saunders were shipping 'Burton Ale' in Quart bottles packed 4 dozen to a case to Victoria in 1862. This gives us a fair idea of how many bottles of stout were recovered initially, if the 4 dozen cases recovered contained this number of bottles! And, if that consignment from Cameron & Saunders was Guinness Extra Stout and not another beer such as Bass.

Cameron & Saunders operated from 7 Hart Street, Mark Lane in London at this time and were primarily Bass bottlers and exporters. The site, which is now a high-rise modern building, would have been conveniently located close to both Fenchurch Street train station and the Thames for easy shipping of goods by sea or rail. They appear to have commenced trading around 1859 or a little before and were bought out some time in the first decade of the 20th century by a rival company, although as a brand they seem to have lasted until the 1920s.¹¹  They were one of many Guinness bottlers during this period when it was a common practice for companies such as these to purchase beers from Guinness, and other breweries on these islands, in bulk and bottle the stout with their own branding once the design and wording had been signed-off by Guinness in Dublin, and as long as it said it was Guinness's porter in the bottle. (This generally meant that theirs was the only porter they were allowed to bottle.) Of those bottling companies, Burkes was probably one of the more well known, along with Blood Wolfe, Hall, Read, and Moline amongst others depending on the era. Indeed Guinness were shipping huge amounts of their stout porters to England specifically for this purpose, as they themselves wouldn’t enter the world of bottling their own beers for a considerable few years more.

To give an idea of how valuable this export trade was to Guinness, in 1863 the London trade alone for Guinness was worth £64,000 of a total English trade of £213,000, that being over twice the trade of Dublin at £100,000 with the total Irish trade being ‘just’ £341,000.¹² That’s just how important exporting their stouts was to Guinness in this era, and beyond of course.

This stout would have been brewed in Dublin before being matured for 2 years in huge vats and it would have then been transferred to wooden casks and shipped to London where it would have been left to settle for weeks before being bottled, corked, caged and encapsulated. Then it was labelled and packed most likely into barrels/casks, or perhaps crates, with dry straw before being loaded onto a vessel. So that recently salvaged stout is unlikely to date from 1864, and more likely to be from 1862 or before – it's even older than has been reported!¹¹

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As to the beer itself, a lot has been made in the recent news regarding the plans to harvest the yeast from the bottle in order to rebrew the beer. This would be impossible to do from just regenerating or even matching the yeast for a number of reasons, not least being that it probably contained not one yeast strain but several, including less conventional brewing yeasts such as Brettanomyces and Lactobacillus which may have entered the beer either in the Guinness brewery or the bottling warehouse of Cameron and Saunders. These may have given the beers a drier, funkier and more acidic – but still palatable – taste.  They are still used in certain beers today for the same reasons, although it was likely their effect on the beer was less seen as a positive back in the day?!

In order to explain why the yeast is just a small, if important, factor in the beer's recipe we need to look at what exactly constituted Guinness Extra Stout in the 1860s, and luckily, we have a good and reliable second-hand source for that, given that access to the brewing archives of Guinness is strictly off limits to mere mortals. David Hughes in his book on bottled Guinness¹¹ gives us more than an inkling of what the beer was like at this time, give or take a few years.

In 1860 and 1867 Guinness Extra Stout was brewed to 1.079 gravity, a measure of the sugar it contained that would be turned into alcohol by the fermentation process. It probably finished fermentation at around 1.018 or so (or perhaps lower by the time the bottler got it into actual bottles and it conditioned even more in there?) giving an alcohol by volume of around 8% or so, the same as Guinness's current offering of Special Export served on the continent, and not to be confused with the slightly lighter modern Foreign Extra. This level of alcohol would certainly help its stability on its journey around the world as would other factors too. The Foreign Extra Stout brewed in the same years was a little lighter curiously, at 1.076 but appears to have finished lower so may have been as strong or a little more perhaps? Cameron & Saunders also bottled this beer, and labels for it also survive.

The ingredients, although generally the same in certain ways, were quite different to today’s draught nitro Guinness. The barley variety would be different as would the malting process and types of finished grain. Roast unmalted barley is used in the modern Guinness portfolio but this would not have been used in brews at this time. A list from 1883 shows that the malts used were pale (which would have been darker than modern pale malt), amber, and roast. It was more likely higher hopped than today’s versions too, giving more hop bitterness, although perhaps a less roast barley bitter bite due to the use of roast malt versus roast barley, as books on the brewing of Irish porter from around this time state that the 'black' malt was more akin to chocolate malt, so not quite as well roasted.

The brewing process would be similar in one way but radically different in others, with longer mash times and boil times and changes in almost every step compared to modern processes. The equipment used is more modern too, which would effect the brewing. Even the fermentation process differs from today and the use of wooded fermentation, storage, and shipping vessels means the inclusion of ‘bugs’ other than the original brewer’s yeast as mentioned earlier.

All of this means that a beer from the 1830s would be impossible to brew again accurately and the idea that anything could be gleaned from just analysing the yeast is ludicrous. It could be done to a certain degree in collaboration with the Guinness archive who would have the actual record of the brew but it would still probably be a watered-down version, literally. Those who attempt to brew historical brews will always say that they will keep as close as possible to the recipe but with so many variables it would be impossible to say that they were brewing the same beer, in fact it would be accurate to say they definitely are not. And hobbyists can get a little closer than most professional brewing companies where time and materials equate to serious money, so the research, work and recreating of ingredients required would be unfeasible for most if not all.

Any brewery who says they are brewing a dead-on balls-accurate historical brew is more often than not fibbing to you.

This found bottle of beer is certainly hugely important as a historical brewing relic and as part of an intertwined story and the history outlined very briefly above, along with the tangible heritage of the Guinness brewery. But the respreading of this story is more down to the interest and marketing of modern Guinness than anything to do with that history. It’s clickbait for the Guinness obsessed and beer-curious, bandwagon jumping to sell advertising buy the reporters. Although it was of actual interest to those interested in the history of beer in fairness.

And perhaps that is reason enough to write this post. Not a rebuttal, not a rebottle either hopefully, just a recording and reiteration of an important part of Irish brewing history.

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We will leave on a quote from David Hughes’ excellent bible of bottled Guinness.

‘The Guinness of today, be it Extra Stout or Foreign, is younger, lower in alcohol, less bitter, much less acidic, the gas content of the beer and head size is higher, there is no sediment in the bottle, it is brighter when held up to a lamp and crucially it is more consistent in its quality and in real terms cheaper to buy.’

Personally though? I’d love to try a bottle of Cameron & Saunders Extra Stout from a corked and caged bottle.

I might even share some …

Liam K

¹ The Dover Chronicle, 3rd December 1864

² The Caledonian Mercury, 8th July 1865

³ The Liverpool Journal of Commerce, 31st July 1865

⁴ The Shipping and Mercantile Gazette, 4th September 1865

⁵ The Liverpool Shipping Telegraph and Daily Commercial Advertiser, 3rd October 1865

⁶ The South Eastern Gazette, 3rd October 1865

⁷ The South Eastern Gazette, 31st November 1865

⁸ The Dover Chronicle, 2nd December 1865

⁹ The Dover Chronicle, 27th June 1866

¹⁰ The Dover Chronicle, 4th July 1866

¹¹ "A Bottle of Guinness Please" by David Hughes

¹² Guinness's Brewery in the Irish Economy by Patrick Lynch & John Vaizey

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 and image is thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, who have kindly let me share the above images. Other sources are as stated. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Sign of the Times: Arthur Guinness's First Signature?

There is good argument to say that research of any kind is a form of therapy, as it distracts the mind, gives a sense of purpose, and can be hugely rewarding when you find that little nugget of information that you were searching for, and often one you weren't! This is especially true of history research, and when it ties in with the specifics of your interested field the whole process can feel like something beyond basic escapism. It brings you to pleasantly solitary place where you feel that only you and this treasure of information exist—regardless of how many others have been there before and will be there afterwards. At that given time it is just you and that line of words or image, all alone but content and happy.

There is more than a little irony that much of the historical research we now do is online and virtual, as historians gaze at their screens at pixelated renderings of said images and words, which are zoomable, copyable, and gratefully accessible. Every second of every day more information is digitised and released on to the internet in the form of books, pamphlets and newspapers. It is normally to the latter that I am drawn as they are such an incredible, and huge, source of information for my interest. Indeed, a search of the word 'brewery' in a site such as The British Newspaper Archive, which also has old (and some new) Irish newspapers on it, gives a number of occurrences at near 7 million, although just a paltry half million of those are for Irish newspapers. An easy trawl through ...

But, as with all printed material, there is something a little sterile in actual newspapers themselves, given as they are mass printed publications which are one step removed from words actually written by those from our past. Or perhaps more fairly just a mechanised form of those words, but you get the gist of the argument I'm sure.

There is something more special about finding actual quill-or-pen-made writing and signatures, even if viewed from that screen on a desk in the dark and pleasant comfort of your own home. And even better if you find something 'new.'

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Beyond the newspaper archives and online book depositories there are other sources for the history researcher, and a hugely important one for Irish historians came online in 2022.

The Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland (VRTI) is an all Ireland and international research partnership working to reconstruct and publish the items that were in the Public Record Office of Ireland which were destroyed in 1922 at the outset of the Civil War during the deeply contentious bombing of The Four Courts in Dublin.

This is from their website:

VRTI restores and reimagines a lost archival treasure through historical research, archival conservation, and technical innovation. It enriches the public understanding of Ireland’s past and reconnects a global audience to our documentary heritage. VRTI does not merely platform digital resources shared by partners. Rather, it creates something entirely new — a veritable Treasury of historical sources, newly translated, enhanced and contextualised — from the collections to which partner organisations provide access. VRTI is, in this sense, entirely unique in the world.

Since its launch it has added more and more information online in a relatively easily searchable format, albeit with the limits of OCR for deciphering printed (and, obviously, written) text.

Back in 2022 at its launch, I immediately started searching for brewing related information and came across quite a lot, although much of it was not entirely useful given it may just mention a named brewer. This is helpful to those who are trying to complete a picture of said brewer but generally it can be a little bit of a pointless search. But I did come across The Minute Book of Corporation of Brewers and Maltsters of the City of Dublin which contains 100 years of information on its members from 1702, a copy of which was held in the Guinness Archives so could be scanned for the VRTI. (I posted on social media at the time about the following but for some reason never committed to the semi-permanency of this site or noted its significance.)

On page 149 of the book, dated Tuesday the 24th of April 1759 and in the handwriting of the Dublin brewer Ephraim Thwaite the following is written:

At a meeting of the Master Wardens of the Brethren of the Corporation of Brewers & Maltsters of Dublin Pursuant to due Notice given, the Petition of Arthur Guinness being Lead[?] praying to be admitted into the franchisees & Liberties of their Corporation, he was accordingly admitted on paying a fine of two Guineas & this Hall adjourned till further notice.

It is signed by the following brewers James Taylor (Cork Bridge), Ephraim Thwaite (Cork Bridge), Thomas Greene (James's Gate), Hugh Trevor (Crooked Staff) and John Forster (Later Thomas Court - possibly with Francis Forster then on James's Street). Of note is that all of these are quite close together, as this area from The Liberties west of south central Dublin towards Dr. Steevens' Hospital—close to the current site of Heuston Station—was packed with breweries and distilleries at this time and for quite a few years to come.

On Tuesday the 26th of June 1759 Arthur was officially sworn in and on Saturday the 25th of August of that same year his now famous signature appears in the record book for the first time.

Now, given that the famous brewery lease wasn't signed until December of that year—that is the document, or a facsimile of which, that you can see embedded under glass on the floor of the Guinness Storehouse in Dublin—then is this the first known signature of Arthur Guinness?

Possibly not, but it's probably the earliest one you can see with ease and it predates his lease by 4 months. (Of course, I'm taking liberties with the post's title, as it can't have been his very first signature!)

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Just as a footnote of sorts, the current signature on Guinness products that closely resembles this one, if sadly a little less flamboyant, only started to be used on bottle labels from 1965. Prior to that it was slightly different and included the words 'Son & Co.' It's nice that they have kept the original Long S he used for the second last letter, but I do think they could have made it a bit more curlified!

Liam 

Virtual Treasury Record Info:

Creative Commons License CC BY-NC 4.0 (Attribution-NonCommercial): Guinness GDB/BR12/0002, 'Minute Book of Corporation of Brewers and Maltsters of the City of Dublin'. Accessed on Virtual Record Treasury of Ireland <https://virtualtreasury.ie/item/Guinness-GDB-BR12-0002> PID: <https://arks.org/ark:/75929/i145700> (13 May 2026). Repository: Guinness Archive (Dublin).

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. Research link is shown above.  Labels and labels image are the authors. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

A Shot of Beer History #10: Some Late 19th Century Dublin & Cork Stout Labels

In March of 1896 the following commentary appeared in the wonderfully titled Dublin newspaper The Illustrograph:

THE STOUT LABEL QUESTION

   DURING the past few months the magnificent Dublin firm of stout brewers are considered to have tarnished their reputation in Ireland by enacting a business rule to the effect that any licensed liquor trader may use the official Guinness's Extra Stout label supplied by the Company conditionally that such trader will enter into agreement with the Company not to sell the bottling stout of any Dublin or other brewer. This is the sum total of the agreement. The trader may sell porter of any other brewer as drawn from the cask and supplied by the glass or the tankard, but no bottled stout, except that bearing the label of Messrs, Guinness will be allowed to be vended under this arbitrary agreement.
   Now there exists in Dublin, as is the case in Burton-on-Trent, though not to the same extent, several other large brewers besides the largest and most popular one, but the great English brewery town of Burton, which is as equally noted for its Ales as Dublin is for its Stout, enjoys the distinction over Dublin of having the ale brews of its hundred and one other breweries (other than the great leviathan) extensively and fairly patronised by the English people, more so than the other Dublin brewers are patronised by the Irish people.
   This was not always so, for rather more than a quarter of a century ago honours, so to speak, were more evenly divided, nor were Messrs. Guinness the chief or largest stout brewers.
   Neither is the reason for the present unique (not to say monopolising) position of the great James's Gate Brewery due to superior quality of its manufacture, because the brews of several rival breweries in the Irish capital are considered by experts to be equally as good. On another page of this issue of the ILLUSTROGRAPH will be found the extra or double stout labels as issued by the five other Dublin brewers (Jameson, Pim and Co., Watkins and Co., Mountjoy Brewery Co., Ltd., Phoenix Brewery Co., and D’Arcy and Son) and one Cork brewer (Messrs. Jas. J. Murphy and Co., Limited) outside the Guinness pale, and also an edict issued to the public at large bearing on the monopoly and injustice likely to accrue if it should happen that Messrs. Guinness and Co.'s new Irish plan of campaign be universally adopted.
   To this manifesto and the facsimile of labels (except in colour), we direct the attention of our readers, whom we would advise, without any animus against but with a keen appreciation of the great House of Guinness, to try the extra stout bottlings of these six other brewers. This may be easily effected by those in authority over households ordering direct of the respective breweries or their agents, whose names will be supplied on application to the brewers mentioned. A comparison can then be made, and the writer for one has no fear of the result.
   "Live and let live" and "Free Trade" are prevailing mottos at this the latter portion of the nineteenth century, and most certainly an exclusive policy like that of Messrs. Guinness and Co. would have been more befittingly bestowed, according to history and tradition, at the commencement rather than the close of enlightened nineteenth century.

This appears to be a damning (if clunkily written*) indictment of a new policy by the Guinness brewery to force those who choose to use the Guinness label to only bottle their stout porter and no other. These days this might be dismissed by many with a shrug and a comment about Guinness just being Guinness but it appears that at the time the other breweries in the city were rather incensed by this behaviour to the point where they issued what could be seen as a full page proclamation under the title 'Protest of the Dublin brewing Trade Against the New Guinness Label' where they called out Guinness on what the claimed to be its attempt to establish a monopoly under the guise of wishing to stop adulteration, plus the mislabelling of others' product as their own. This was a new direction for the brewery to take in Ireland, but it had been previously done across the sea in Britain so it wasn't a new direction for Guinness to take.

The other Dublin brewers were not protesting against the use of a label by Guinness in itself, and the company had used labels prior to this period anyway, but rather the conditions mentioned above where those who were supplied with Guinness stout and labels could stock and sell no other bottled stout. The protest and commentary was carried in many newspapers and other sources at the time and it certainly sounds as if this was a turning point in the somewhat convivial if wary relations between Guinness and the other Dublin breweries - although within a little over half a century it wouldn't matter, as Guinness would be the last brewery left standing - literally.

That whole controversy is a subject for a bigger write-up but of interest to Irish brewing history are the copies of the labels used by those other breweries for their stout porter, plus the stray Cork one, which have been enhanced as much as possible and shown here. These appear to have been copies made by the newspaper of the actual labels in some cases given the quality and use of writing on a few but nevertheless some are labels which may not have seen the light of day in well over a hundred years. We have seen a couple of them on here before, notably the Watkins and D'Arcy ones, but here they all now are for posterity - or as much as that can be so in pixels and clouds.

Darcy's Dublin Extra Stout label showing their anchor trademark

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Jameson's XXX Stout stamped with the word 'Invalid's' showing their trademark of a three-masted ship at sail and a write-up of its seemingly excellent attributes by Charles Cameron

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Phoenix Porter Brewery Dublin Stout showing their phoenix trademark

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Mountjoy Brewery's Dublin Stout with the words Extra Double and their three castles trademark

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Watkins's Extra Stout Dublin showing the shamrock trademark of the brewery

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J.J. Murphy & Co. Cork XX Stout with their trademark of a ship at full sail between two towers

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These beers may be long gone but at least some part of them remains, plus there are a few homebrewers who attempt to replicate them - if on modern brew systems. Below is one last image from the same source showing a bottle with the Phoenix label above but overprinted with the word 'Extra' - the bottle might be of interest to any family-brewer-based television series producers who wish to set their show in or around that era!

Liam K

*I know, I know - Pot and kettle indeed!

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, who have kindly let me share the above images from The Illustrograph (Dublin) from the 1st of March 1869. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!