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 ... 

-o-

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.


-o-

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.

-o-

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!

Friday 16 February 2024

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #17 – Time 'Pilsner' Glass (1960s)

There’s pleasure in a glass of beer
When hard by work opprest;
It soothes the brain with thought o’ertaxed,
And sets the mind at rest.
Its praises I will loudly sing,
And sound them far and near;
There’s nothing can refresh you like
A glass of bitter beer.

Excerpt from ‘A Glass of Bitter Beer’ by John Drake from 'Jock Sinclair and Other Poems' - 1890

It could be argued that the pilsner-style glass used by Irish pubs for over 70 years is one of the most iconic glass shapes that has ever appeared in the hands of an Irish beer drinker. It is an elegant form, if a little top-heavy in appearance when full, although in truth this is balanced by having a thick and heavy base, plus it's incredibly tactile and extremely practical to drink from, with the width of the mouth of the glass perfectly proportioned for either sipping or gulping its contents. This example from the Smithwick's brewery in Kilkenny for their forgotten and (ironically) timeline purged Time beer brand has all of those elements, plus a wonderful, thick gold band around its rim that heightens its graceful beauty.

Time ales were launched by Smithwick’s in 1960 with the aim of revitalising an aging brand for more modern times and to celebrate their (so-called) 250th anniversary. Under this rebrand their top selling No. 1 pale ale would remain the same but their golden export ale was rebranded as Time and their SS ale as Extra Time. A few months later their ruby coloured barleywine was also brought into the fold as Time Barley Wine. The launch meant a complete rebrand for most of the Smithwick’s beers with a new logo, beer labels, coasters and other ephemera, plus of course glassware. Branding on glasses was a relatively new idea here, and Time was probably one of the first beers in Ireland to have its own range of branded glassware. As well as the pilsner glass there was a handmade tankard and a dimple mug, plus Time branded water jugs suggesting to the consumer to have a chaser after their beer – ‘Time for a Chaser!’

By 1964 Guinness were in control of the brewery and that that was the death knell for the Time brand. It would appear at least that the marketing and research gurus in St. James’s Gate decided to consolidate the range down to just two main products, the barley wine and their newly developed Smithwicks Draught keg beer which was launched in 1965, seemingly as a direct reaction to English brands such as the Cork brewed Watney’s Red Barrel. This new keg beer was - ironically - also available in bottles as Smithwicks D. The Time brand seems to have disappeared that same year and appears just fleetingly and rarely - if ever - mentioned or promoted in the current history of Smithwick’s, as they attempt to draw a direct-if-fictitious line from the present iteration of the brand to a nonsensical beer brewed in 1710.

-o-

The origins of this exact glass shape - a trumpet rather than the much older cone style - is hard to track but it may have arrived in this country at least via exotically continental premium lager brands such as Tuborg, Patzenhoffer (Patz) and Carlsberg in the 1950s, where that elegant shape suited the marketing of said beers. It was certainly popularised around this time although there were so-called ‘pilsner’ glasses or tumblers available before this era. For example, James Fox & Sons, the well-known Dublin public house suppliers selling something called a 10 oz ‘Pilsen’ glass in the 1930s, although we don’t know its exact shape. Prior to this period the normal half-pint glass would have been more squat and conical in shaped, sometimes with fluted ornamentation.

Some of those lager branded 1950s glasses still survive and apart from some minor changes they have stayed with us and remained the same over the intervening decades, although modern versions seem to have sadly - if practically - lost their gold rims. (Incidentally, experiments done in the early 19th century state that tea drank from cups with gold rims were at least perceived to taste richer and better, so this might explain another reason for the popularity of this type of decoration.)

-o-

To this day if you ask for a ‘glass’ (half-pint) of beer - and sometimes minerals (soft drinks) - in a standard Irish pub it will be most likely served in one of these glasses, and for sure if you order a pint bottle in most pubs you will by default be given one with it. Certainly since the middle of the last century, and regardless of the beer style (Time was an ale not a lager for example) this glass type was used predominantly in Irish pubs, including - even now - for draught Guinness at times. (There was a minor flirtation with a half-pint version of the tulip pint glass but it was a little rarer, although that shape appears to be still used in the occasional pub.)

One of the most famous appearances of this glass shape in popular culture is in the 1958 movie ‘Ice Cold in Alex’ where the character Captain George Anson downs a glass of Carlsberg having arrived in the titular Alexandria. (Never mind that in the original book the beer in question was Rheingold, and the imagined glasses were possibly different.) That scene, which was immortalised as a Carlsberg advert in the 1980s, certainly showcased the glass to great effect.

The sizes of these glasses varied a little when used for beer, from 10 fl.oz. versions - a half-pint - up to 14 fl.oz. versions like the Time glass. These larger sizes were quite popular as they held a half-pint bottle with its head from one pour. Only half-pint glasses used for draught beer sales were verified for volume by government bodies here - the others did not require it, as they were served with bottles that were already verified as to the volume they contained.

So, Smithwick's Time ales may not have lasted but at least the glass shape did, and hopefully it will continue to be used in this country for the foreseeable future.

(There is more on the Time ale brands here, and the beer writer Pete Brown has a nice piece on Ice Cold in Alex and that famous scene here. Finally there is a dive into Smithwicks ale and its supposed history here.)

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 glass itself are the authors own and the image cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Wednesday 31 January 2024

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #16 – Cairnes Brewery Invoice (1940)

I last tasted (and swallowed every drop) a glass of Drogheda strong ale, and if any of my readers in Ireland or England or any where else doubt an Irish brewer’s capacity to brew ale, let them get a bottle of William Cairnes & Son’s Drogheda strong ale, and I will vouch for an ‘encore.’

The Whiskey & Allied Trade Review via The Drogheda Argus - October 1897

If there is one enduring misconception about Irish brewing it’s the often perpetuated myth that breweries in Ireland really only ever brewed stout and red ale, or variants of both of these beers. This impression is somewhat understandable given the behemothic effect that one brand of stout has had on the beer drinkers of the country and indeed the world, plus the clever-if-duplicitous branding of certain so-called 'Irish Red Ales' - a relatively new term in the present interpretation of the style at least.  This is compounded by the apathy shown by much of the beercentric population, exacerbated by the utter decimation of most of our regional breweries, plus the neglection of our true brewing history by the latter decades of the 20th century. I doubt most Irish people - let alone those who live beyond our shores - know that in the not-too-distant past there was a wide range of ales brewed in Ireland, although admittedly on a much smaller scale than porter and its extended family.

Thankfully, in the last few decades, the country has started to rediversify into those styles again due to the many microbreweries which have sprouted up across the land but - as noted - this is just a return to the norm of our brewing past, and back to a time when there were many more breweries in Ireland, some of whom were brewing a range of styles to rival or beat many of the world’s breweries of that era. In short, there was a fine selection of Irish-brewed pale and non-red ales of different styles available to our ancestors, as well as other variants, and this is perfectly exemplified by this invoice from Cairnes Brewery in Drogheda from 1940.

The Cairnes Brewery started life as the James’s Street Brewery and commenced brewing on the 6th of October 1826, with their first beers being a pale butt and a table beer, followed a month later by a strong ale. Its proprietor William Cairnes had previously been in business - since 1813 - with John Woolsey at the Castlebellingham brewery and had married into the Woolsey and Bellingham family, but that partnership was dissolved in the same year that William set up his own brewery in Drogheda town, with John Woolsey continuing to brew on the original site. In April 1890 both breweries merged to become the Castlebellingham and Drogheda Breweries Limited and were brewing in both locations. The former brewery ceased production in 1923 with all brewing moving to the Drogheda site. The company changed its name to Cairnes Ltd in late 1933 and finally ceased brewing in 1959 when the brewing arm was sold to Guinness controlled Cherry-Cairnes (Distributors) Ltd, a company originally set up to market Phoenix ale.

-o-

 A run through of the ales available from the brewery shows what would be seen as an excellent range in many an English brewery at this time, but was relatively extensive for an Irish one - especially this late in our brewing history.

So what exactly were these beers?

The eponymously named ‘Cairnes’ was their standard draught and bottled ale and was described as pale or golden - not red by any means - with a delicate flavour in advertisements from this era, so perhaps akin to and X ale or a pale mild, and indeed they brewery had exactly such a beer – a ‘Mild Ale’ - in its range a few decades earlier.

‘No. 1 Strong’ may be a version of the older strong mild ale or 'Drogheda Ale' from from a previous era and earlier advertisements. There appears to be no mention of its colour in common sources but an entry on its chemical composition in a Dublin science journal* seems to show it was over 8% abv and it would not be unreasonable to assume this version was the same or similar strength, and it was even mentioned as ‘3 XXX’ [sic] as late as 1950 in a newspaper writeup on the brewery. An advertisement from 1885 shows that Cairnes were brewing an ‘XX Stout Strong Ale (Mild)’ which it would be nice to think was a variant of the same or similar beer, with stout meaning strong here as distinct from the newer connotations of the term. Mild in this case seems to refer to the taste, which it often did in this country and certainly at that time, although it can also mean a fresher or newer beer.


Stingo was a touted as an Irish Winter Ale and advertisements** from around this time state it was brown in colour, but no mention is made of its strength or taste other than it sharpening the appetite, helping digestion and being refreshing, which might imply it was dry and relatively well hopped? Cairnes appear to be the only Irish brewery to ever brew this style of beer in Ireland under that name, which is often used in England, although how close the Irish version was to the English one is difficult to know.

The name ‘E. I. Bitter’ - East India Bitter - most likely refers to their interpretation of an IPA, a version of which they were brewing for several decades, and back in 1885 it was being advertised as an ‘X Stout East India [Ale]. (Bitter)’ and in 1900 as just ‘E I Bitter Ale’ as per our invoice. Curiously just three years later in 1903 in another advertisement they were brewing a beer under the same name plus one called an India Pale Ale. To add further confusion, in 1905 they had alongside their IPA an ‘I. E. Ale (Dinner) but it’s worth noting that advertisements such as these are not always an accurate representation of the actual output of a brewery. India Pale Ale was a style that was quite common in other breweries in Ireland too, so well before the modern resurgence of this type of beer there were plenty of Irish IPAs.

The Nut Brown ale of which, according to our invoice, Mr. Hughes purchased a half barrel is a bit of an enigma as there are very few mentions of such a style in Ireland, although they were certainly brown ales available other than the Stingo mentioned above. Findlater’s Mountjoy brewery made one in the 1950s, and there is a bottle label showing a ‘Mellifont Brown Ale’ - which may be connected to the Cairnes brewery - in circulation too. This is yet another style that is associated with English breweries so it is of interest to see it represented on this side of the water too. Sadly again we know little about it apart from the colour and that it was definitely being brewed at this time.

Pale Ale is next on our list and was probably a lighter version of the I E Bitter and a little stronger than the next brew the Dinner Ale. which was a light and refreshing beer that was served with meals. There appears to be little record of the exact qualities of these two beers from the Cairnes’ stable but they certainly seem to have existed, possibly giving seven ales - plus three porters/stouts - being made by the brewery in the 1930s and early 1940s, although possibly not for much longer than this in truth.

-o-

Irish ales had a hard time competing with the popularity of porter in Ireland from the mid to late 18th century onwards, and that issue along with the availability of Scottish and English ales - especially Bass - over here meant that it was an extremely competitive marketplace, with too many brands vying for too few customers. Eventually Smithwick’s, as a brand, won the ale battle with its new kegged draught ale, giving the consumer what it seems they wanted by the latter half of the 20th century.

But back in the day, we brewed pale - and brown - ales, and that's worth emphasising.

Liam K

*The Composition of Drogheda Ale – The Dublin Quarterly Journal of Science Vol. II 1862 - Page 174 (14.3% proof spirit = 8.15% abv, which is 57% of the proof for UK and Ireland in some sources but this may be incorrect?)

** My own post

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 invoice itself are the authors own and cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, and other sources are as credited or linked. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Thursday 21 December 2023

Of Lovers & Libations

Pinpricks of light wink and twinkle in the milky smear that runs across the night sky.

In the distance yellow light brightly glows through narrow windows, eclipsed at times.

Two pairs of sure steps on the hard stone road echo from old walls and empty homes.

Hands held, their breath mingles as they stop and gently kiss in the clear and frosty air.


They continue onward, closer now, the smell of turf smoke drifting in the too-still night.

Laughter pierces from the briefly opened door, then a booming voice erupts and flows.

A trail of twisted sparks appears then dies in the sky above the clay-fired chimney pot.

A stealing cat weaves between their slowing feet, now the door is within reach. A sigh.

 

The latch is thumbed, the door pushed. Heat and light spill out alongside jumbled noise.

Inside the place, the cold eyes of warm bodies settle briefly on theirs, then turn away.

They walk together to the altar of hardened timber, of wet rings, of offerings, of wants.

The curate’s eye caught, the await the ritual of the pour. Two bottles, two glasses. One look.


A fireside seat found, burning peat hides brazen faces. Low voices, and glares and glances.

They raise their glasses to their lips and drink as one. Darkness and bitterness wash over.

They go to leave, but then a fiddle strikes, a box joins, and a stick beats time against a skin.

One knows this melody and now their voice sings clear and strong of love’s desire. All quieten.


Hurting haunting silence, then hands bang on tables and some nod approval, but to what?

Then, placed with them, two small glasses filled with amber warmth and guarded tolerance.

The music starts again, and the lovers drink, content as now inner passion fills their hearts.

Outside snow begins to fall, twirling and swirling, its flat flakes all different but all the same.


Liam K


Thursday 7 December 2023

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #15 – Murphy Stout Label (1960s?)

Typography is the craft of endowing human language with a durable visual form, and thus with an independent existence. Its heartwood is calligraphy - the dance, on a tiny stage, of the living, speaking hand - and its roots reach into living soil, though its branches may be hung each year with new machines. So long as the root lives, typography remains a source of true delight, true knowledge, true surprise.

Robert Bringhurst - The Elements of Typographic Style (1992)

Any visitor from Manchester of a certain age who strolls around Cork city might have a nagging feeling of familiarity when they come upon certain pubs that are dotted around its streets. They might pass The Castle Inn on South Main Street and think that there was something inviting about it, or look at the front of the nearby Vicarstown Bar on North Main Street and think that the gold-on-black writing on the façade was calling out to them, as if previously they had drank a pint or two sitting on a stool at the counter. Callanan’s too on George’s Quay looks like somewhere they have been in a previous life, as does Forde’s which wraps around the corner from Barrack Street on to Sullivan’s Quay. Even The High House with yet more gold and black livery, which is appropriately situated at the top of Blair’s Hill – although long closed – feels oddly like something from their Mancunian hometown.

The more knowledgeable and eagle-eyed of those visitors who are familiar with the pubs and streetscape of Manchester will twig that the lettering and design on the name signs of all of these pubs – and others too – look exactly the same as many of those that once adorned certain pubs in their home city although, unlike in Cork, this familiar capitalised and italicised gilded lettering has almost disappeared, if it's not already gone. More specifically, it exactly matched the typeface and colours of many of the pubs that were once tied to the Wilson brewery of Newton Heath in that English city.

What appears to be a strange coincidence can be relatively easily explained, as there is a clear connection between those Cork pubs and the ones owned by the Wilson brewery, that being the Watney Mann brewing conglomerate. All of the Cork public house mentioned above – along with quite a few others – were tied-houses belonging to, or run for, The Lady’s Well Brewery, which is more commonly known as Murphy’s Brewery. It is now owned by Heineken but still sits on the same site on Leitrim Street just north of the river Lee.

Tied houses, where a public house was obliged in most cases to sell the produce of just one brewery, were extremely common in Cork city and county in the past, where breweries such as Murphys and Beamish & Crawford (and Lanes and Arnott’s at one time) effectively owned the public houses and controlled what was sold by them, and who ran the houses or rented the premises. This arrangement also meant that the brewery was responsible for the upkeep of the buildings both inside and out as well as overseeing and funding any modernisation or refurbishment that was required from time to time.

In early 1967 the Watney Mann group became the majority shareholder in Murphys and in that year it was decided that all of its tied pubs should have a uniform look, so the manager of the tied houses Rex Archer along with Cork illustrator and artist William Harrington were sent off to study the branding and look of the Wilson Brewery houses in Manchester.* Wilsons brewery had itself been absorbed by Watney Mann in 1960 and it appears that shortly after this time new branding was rolled out for its houses. Although Harrington came up with designs for the interior of some of the Cork pubs and perhaps the exterior too, it seems that a decision was made to just copy the typeface and signage from the Wilson’s pubs right down to the gold text on a black background rather than come up with something specifically for Murphy's houses.

Some of those Manchester pubs appear to have had white writing on red but in the same typeface, this appears to be what was called the ‘Watneyising’ of some of the pubs in a CAMRA publication** from 1976, although some photographs from the time also show Watney pubs with the same colour but a different typeface so it seems that those red and white Wilson pubs were perhaps a hybrid design. This ‘Watneyising’ appears to have been rolled back in some cases and the black and gold lettering reinstated according to that same article. It also looks as if at least some of the Phipps breweries houses - a brewery in Northampton in England that was also acquired by Watney Mann in 1960 - had at least one house with exactly the same branding, The King’s Head in Coventry,*** so perhaps the branding originated somewhere other than for the Wilson’s pubs in Manchester and was part of an over all strategy by Watney Mann? (Curiously, a Chester Brewery house in Manchester, a brewery taken over by rivals Whitbread, had a very similar typeface too.)

What could be called the “Wilson’s" typeface (If not” Phipps”?) [ EDIT: It's actually "English Two-Line Antique’] was also adopted by Murphys in and unitalicised form for their name on labels, beermats and other items associated with the brand at this time, as can be seen in the handsome label shown above. This typeface seems to have lasted with some minor changes until the 1980s when the image and branding was changed and updated in the Heineken era. Looking through old advertisements and breweriana there is a similarity in some of the Wilson’s branding – and Phipps too – which is hardly surprising given their shared ownership, and it is quite possible that there are other Watney-owned brands from that era that also share the same layout and fonts.

[EDIT: As it turns out - thanks to Boak & Bailey here - this lettering 'was conceived by the Design Research Unit and applied across the Watney’s pub estate, including pubs owned by breweries it took over' and is actually called ‘English Two-Line Antique.’]

Even after the Watney Mann era ended at Murphys and the tied houses were all eventually sold off, many of the now independent public house still clung on to the typeface for their name, and a few still do to this day as noted above. Perhaps that tied house program also explains what could be perceived to be a slight lack of surnames on public houses in Cork city when compared to the rest of Ireland, which might certainly make some sense given the actual ownership of many of the pubs at one time.

That recognisable typeface seems to have all but disappeared in Manchester, the city from which it may have originated, something that is a little sad as there was a certain elegance, and certainly some history, to that “look” which once adorned a considerable number of public houses in both cities.

Although it would be nice to think that perhaps a tiny amount of that style struck some chord in Cork publican's minds, and it might explain the commonness of gold writing on a black background in that city. A lasting reminder, at least to those now in the know, of a small episode in the city’s rich brewing history - 'a source of true delight, true knowledge, true surprise' indeed ...

Liam K

*This is from the book The Murphy’s Story: History of Lady's Well Brewery by Diarmuid Ó Drisceoil and Donal Ó Drisceoil and I was reminded of the mention by a Tweet from Tripe + Drisheen about the commonness of the typeface in some of Cork's pubs which were Murphy's tied houses.

** CAMRA publication

*** Boak & Bailey’s Modern Pubs of 1961: Watney’s & Whitbread ant there's much more about Watney's written by them here too.

(Image of The Vicarstown Bar is cropped and via their Facebook account.)

(Image of The Barley Mow is a cropped/enhanced and from the Flickr account of Manchester Archives+, shared via CC BY-NC-SA 2.0 DEED Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 2.0 Generic)

(Newspaper advertisement is from The Stockport County Express - Thursday 24th June 1965)

(There are more examples from Manchester of that typeface here.

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 label itself are the authors own and cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. Newspaper research and advertisement reproduction was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, and other sources are as credited. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Monday 20 November 2023

Solved - A Mystery 'Brewery in Ireland' & Guinness's Plea

'THE HUMBLE recorders of the scene all too often pass unsung and even unrecognised. One whose skill is today becoming more appreciated is James Malton, who lived from approximately 1766 to 1803. The illustration is entitled "Brewery in Ireland." Perhaps a reader may be able to identify the subject, as possibly the round tower with lancet windows may still be standing and even some of the buildings in the background.

Craftsmen of the quality of Malton who leave behind them a series of obviously accurately observed pictures have a great value for the historian. In this alone, which measures just over nine by twelve inches, there is a wealth of contemporary information. In the foreground the broad-tracked barrel-cart, with small details of fittings clearly indicated, dominates the scene; an interesting point with this is that although the surface of the road appears soft and muddy the big wheels are not sinking in very far, which could indicate underlying cobbles or hard surface. At the top of the tower there is a strange piece of balustrade, heading what seems to be some form of vent or chute.'

On the 31st of October 1967 the above write up appeared in The Irish Times in the ‘Art Forum’ section by artist and writer of John FitzMaurice Mills concerning a small watercolour* painting that had been sold that year by The Fine Art Society, London. As you have read, the author asked readers with help to identify the subject of the brewery in the picture, hoping that someone would recognise the distinctive round tower. What appear to be two barrel loaded brewery drays were also captured in the picture, trundling onwards towards a archway in a building in the distance.

This plea was taken up by non-other than ‘The Harp - The Journal of the Home of Guinness,’ a magazine ostensibly published for the workers in the James’s Gate brewery but read by many others as the magazine found its way around the country via the breweries many employees. The following plea and offer of a reward appeared in an edition of the publication:

REWARD FOR INFORMATION SUPPLIED

This is a Malton engraving of an Irish brewery. Its situation is unknown to us and we offer a three guinea voucher to any reader who may be able to provide this information. Perhaps some of our older readers in the country may recollect this unusual looking tower. Information may be sent to The Editor, 'The Harp', St. James's Gate, Dublin 8.

No one appears to have come forward with information of the brewery so there the matter died and appears to have been forgotten, and the reward unclaimed …

But towards the end of 2019 the question of this enigmatic Irish brewery resurfaced again thanks to John Fitzgerald via Twitter who tagged me in a post, practically challenging me to solve the mystery and attaching the above page from The Harp magazine showing Guinness offering that reward for information along with an image of the artwork. A number of people got involved in the discussion and although I did find out that it had since been attributed to a Michael ‘Angelo’ Rooker on the Sotheby’s website, we didn't discover much more about the illustration apart from confirmation that there seemed to be no response to either query at the time and that the reward appeared to remain unclaimed.

Shortly after I started digging through images of old Irish towers and spending too much time searching for that quite distinctive structure. I even bought a book about the artist - Rooker - to see if that helped pin down where he visited in Ireland but to no avail. I though I was on to something in Louth at one point but that too came to nothing, so eventually I took a break from my searching - but never quite admitted defeat in the hope that the tower would appear somewhere, somehow in some of my other brewery research.

In the intervening years I would revisit the subject on occasion and look again for anything that would finally let me scratch that unreachable itch of not being able to solve this conundrum, but I always ended up in a dead end. Of late I had almost resigned myself to never solving the mystery but also hoped that at some point I’d find something during my research that would give me that ‘Ah ha!’ moment, although in truth I had almost given up.

-o-

But then it happened …

I was scrolling through a website when a painting’s image jumped off the cover of an old book at me. It was an angled photo but it was unmistakably ‘my’ Irish brewery. There it was, with the dray carts and tower, impossible for me to mistake for anything similar as I had spent so much time studying it …

The arresting issue was the title of the book. It was a 1980s printed facsimile of ‘A History of Southampton’ by Reverend John Silvester Davies.

Southampton? In England? So not Ireland?

And with just a little further research I discovered that this so called ‘Irish Brewery’ picture seemed to be a relatively well-known image of the Polymond Tower in the North-East corner of the old defensive city walls of Southampton. The tower still exists now but it is hugely truncated from what it once was and had been rebuilt many times since its foundations were originally laid many centuries ago. Looking more closely at the image with the benefit of knowing the position of the tower in the streetscape of old Southampton I now saw that what I took to be trees behind the building seemed to be the ivy-covered walls that abutted the tower on the right of the picture, and the faint remaining edge of a long-gone wall on the opposite side was there too.

More research was required, as I needed to assure myself that the painting was what it claimed to be. The top storeys of ‘our’ tower had been removed in 1828 as they were deemed unsafe, and although there was a brief mention in one of the building's online histories of a sketch of this demolition as it was happening, which would surely be the proof I needed, it seemed to be unpublished in any form. That was until by I came across a paper called 'The Military Organisation of Southampton in the Late Medieval Period 1300-1500' by Randall Moffett** that discusses the Polymond tower and includes two telling images. One being a version of our painting from the Southampton Art Gallery storeroom which tells us that the painting is actually by Edward Dayes and - equally importantly - its title is given as ‘Tower near York Buildings, Southampton’ from c. 1794. Somewhat different from the artist and title that was attributed to it in the flawed history from the sixties that I had been lead to believe.

Crucially for my much-needed confirmation, the second sketch was that missing image of the tower’s demolition titled ‘North view of the North-East tower of the old wall, Southampton as it appeared Dec 3rd 1828.’ It can be clearly seen that it is the same building right down to the ivy on the adjoining city wall. There are a few differences with the window style but not enough to make me doubt that it truly is the Polymond tower that is featured in our original painting - not that I should have doubted Southampton’s historians of course! (The paper is copyrighted but I have included its online link details and the page number of the image below.)

How it came by its earlier misattribution and erroneous title might need to remain a minor mystery, as is the puzzle that there appears to be two of these watercolours in existence. It is possible that ‘our’ version came to be looked at as Irish given the original attribution of it being by James Malton, who was lived and worked most of his life in this country. Somebody saw the drays and barrels in the picture and just assumed it was an Irish scene featuring and Irish brewery and christened it as such.

Regardless, I think we can now repeat the more likely painter and its true depiction and title - ‘Tower near York Buildings, Southampton’ by Edward Dayes c. 1794.

-o-

And what of that brewery? To claim that three guineas Guinness voucher I still need to name the brewery, even if it is an English one.

And I can - sort of - as down through that opening seen in the distance on the left of the picture stood a brewhouse that became known as The East Street Brewery which according to the one brewery history site*** was founded c. 1786 - eight years before our watercolour was created. There is also note of a R & W Saunders supplying beer from their brewery on East Street in 1809, and a John Sanders was known to be a brewer in Southampton according to a 1790 trade directory along, with 5 other individuals admittedly. Is it too much to suggest that the drays and barrels were heading into the Sa[u]nders’ brewery? Absolutely, but I think it’s fair to say that they were heading to a brewery and there was very likely to be one there at the time of our painting, as such sites tend to change hands and be reused over the years, and this was a perfect location for one along East Street, tucked in nicely just outside what was the city walls. (Although other online resources**** state that there were three brewers operating on East Street up to the 17th century at least so those brewer's names I suggest as being on site - although real - are pure conjecture.)

We can even see inside that opening to the brewery buildings - although it's from a century later when it was Cooper’s Brewery - in an 1895 watercolour by the unrelated William Marshall Cooper*****. Look at the lower archway through which yet another dray cart is coming or going and the structure of the building and roof over it. That’s surely the opposite side of our original picture, leading back up to the tower - meaning we can literally seen through the matching archway at the end of our original picture. It is also quite likely that some if not all of these buildings are from the previous century, so perhaps here finally is our brewery, and certainly their footprint is the same in Ordnance Survey maps from almost 50 years before in 1846 which also show a brewery exactly here by the way.

John FitzMaurice Mills was right about the invaluable recording that was done by artists before the age of photography but as we can see we need to treat these sketches and paintings with a little scepticism, especially those with faltering or missing provenance, but I think we can finally put this one to bed - and at long last I’ve almost completely scratched that nagging itch.

Only one serious question still remains …

With The Harp magazine no longer around, where do I claim my three guinea voucher? Although given its value now I think I'd prefer three gold guineas ...

Liam K

The original Tweet that started this is here.

*Watercolour image was shareable via https://image.invaluable.com/housePhotos/Cheffins/97/726497/H0328-L293576612.jpg

** Moffett, Randall (2009) - The military organisation of Southampton in the Late Medieval Period 1300-1500.  University of Southampton, Doctoral Thesis, 279pp - Page 28 - https://eprints.soton.ac.uk/436604/1/Moffett.pdf

*** That date is mentioned on the Brewey History site here but I can't find verify it - http://breweryhistory.com/wiki/index.php?title=William_Cooper_%26_Co._Ltd

****Brewers' Tales: making, retailing and regulating beer in Southampton, 1550-1700 James R. Brown - http://www.breweryhistory.com/journal/archive/135/BrewersTales.pdf

***** The Cooper brewery watercolour is from the Sotonopedia site and shared under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License: http://sotonopedia.wikidot.com/page-browse:cooper-s-brewery

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 - sources are as credited. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

Friday 17 November 2023

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #14 – Guinness Bottle Opener (1970s?)

‘My sealing-caps are so strong, so constructed, and so firmly applied to bottles that some form of lever or a cork-screw must be employed for detaching them, and my caps are also the first which when applied to a bottle and locked thereto, as described, have the edge of the flange so projected as to afford a reliable shoulder, with which a detaching-lever may be engaged, for enabling a cap to be promptly removed as a result of a prying or wrenching action.’

William Painter - Specification forming part of Letters Patent No. 468,258, dated February 2, 1892. Application filed June 16, 1890, Serial No. 355,603, (No model.)

There is a relatively famous (in certain circles at least) archive film* from RTE that reports on the ceasing of the cork-bunged Guinness bottle by orders of the brewery, as it was to be completely replaced by a seemingly unpopular bottle closer - the metal cap. In that piece of recorded Irish beer history from 1969, which incidentally shows both the insertion and extracting of corks, there are a few stout drinkers quite unhappy with this change from what was seen as the traditional method of sealing beer bottles in this country. The interviewees argued that cork-sealed stout bottles tasted better than those using a metal cap, with one drinker being shown to be able to pick out the one corked bottle from a row of poured stouts, allegedly based on taste alone. Whether there was an actual difference between corked bottles and metal capped versions is impossible to know, as we are far removed from those times with no real way of doing a similar comparison, but those punters in that bar in Drogheda were convinced that corks were better than crown caps. Regardless of their outrage and unhappiness, Guinness got its way of course and as a secondary consequence those wonderful, levered, cork extractors that existed on most bars in the country disappeared, replaced by the now familiar cap removers which were much simpler to operate although far less theatrical and ritualistic …

-o-

When William Painter received his patent for his improved bottle sealing device in 1892 it was unlikely that he would have foreseen the impact it would make around the world and just how enduring his simple-but-clever patent would be. Hailing from Baltimore in America, Painter was a prolific inventor who appears to have had an obsessive fascination with the sealing and opening of bottles if the sheer number of patents he filed is anything to go by - over eighty in total - although some of those were on subjects such as counterfeit coin detectors and a magnet-based signalling device for telephones. Regardless of these other inventions it is for the design of this bottle closer - soon after called the ‘Crown Cork’ - that beverage suppliers will be grateful to him for, even if most of them have probably never heard his name and certainly don't appreciate the cleverness of an ingenious little device that most people take for granted these days.

Before his invention there were other methods of closing bottles, one of the most popular and historic being the plain cork bung of course, and other metal closer had existed but none were quite as strong and easy to apply as Painter’s. His crimp-edged, strengthened metal caps clamped on the edge of specially made bottles with a cork liner between the cap and bottle rim ensuring an airtight fit. These caps were easy to apply and remove and would go on to revolutionise the drinks industry around the world. They were also disposable - they were never designed for reuse - a clever way of ensuring a steady income for those involved in their manufacture.

His patent, or patents as there were two for this type of bottle closure device, show how the caps would be used and he goes into extreme detail on how they were developed and how they worked in the accompanying submission to the patent's office. To say he invented these closing devices is somewhat of a mistruth, as he points out in his description that similar versions existed at this time but none were quite as good as those he proposed in his application, and indeed he states the following:

'I do not presume them to be novel as to form and construction. I do believe they are the first caps composed of hard sheet metal which are adapted to the service indicated and that they involve radical and valuable novelty when considered in combination with a sealing-disk and bottle having a locking-shoulder.'

So as with most inventions it involved improvement on an existing design more so that a completely radical new idea. although clearly his were unique enough that his patent was accepted.

Also in his submission he states that the caps can be removed by the user with a ‘hook shaped’ lever that would fulcrum off the top of the capped bottle (Fig. 6 above), or by the use of a ‘forked opener or leaver which will freely receive the head of the bottle between its prongs’ with the bottle head serving as the fulcrum for displacing the cap. He also goes on to say that specific bottle openers of his own devising will be the subject of a separate patent application.

And he was true to his word, as on June the 5th 1893 he filed for a Capped-Bottle Opener, his second such application. (He had previously filed for another type of opener for a different bottle seal design where a concave disc was positioned in a groove inside the rim of the bottle and needed to be plucked out - that sealing method was also been invented by Painter.) This new version is quite familiar to us and is shown in four versions, one which included a clever bung as the handle to seal the bottle after some of its contents were poured, the hook on the other end means that the opener can also be used like his previous opener to remove those internal bung-like seals mentioned above.

Here in Fig 6 we see the basic shape of the design we know, and in the dotted outline something even more familiar given the object we are discussing. Whether he adapted his design from older, existing openers is unknown but it is quite likely that he was the sole inventor in this case.

William Painter went on to form ‘The Crown Cork and Seal Company’ and designed machines and equipment to make the process of applying is bottle caps quicker and more expedient - hence his many patents on the subject - and his business became a huge success and there has been much written about him**, although not quite so much in recent years.

The Crown Cork made its way to Ireland by 1895 where it is being advertised as used on mineral waters in a Cork-based newspaper - coincidentally. And just a couple of years later these caps were being advertised as being suitable for all bottled beverages including beer, with one advertisement even using the fact they were easy to open by ladies as a selling point! An English version of the Crown Cork Company came into being in 1897, having acquired the European rights for the patent, and there were Irish companies in Dublin, Drogheda and Belfast manufacturing the caps by the middle of the 20th century by which time the patent had possibly expired.

These caps could also be pre-printed with the drink company’s name almost from their introduction - as the many avid collectors will know - and were probably being used for stouts and ales here - even if in just a small way - for many decades before Guinness finally called a halt to the practice of corking bottles and forced the change completely to Crown Caps. There of course bottlers using these metal sealers before that and indeed, according to David Hughes in his book “A Bottle of Guinness Please” there were five official Guinness logo Crown Cork designs approved from 1934, and it is possible, and probable, they were being used long before then.

-o-

The invention of the Crown Cork meant that a whole new industry sprang up for bottle openers, one that continues to this day with a multitude of designs and methods for the removal of these now almost universal bottle sealers. The object shown at the top is just one of those designs and although it isn’t quite as iconic as the older, heavier official Crown Cork opener (see the 1920s' version below) with its registered number on the rim that can be found in many an old cutlery drawer, it is a more fitting version to be used in this series given the brand it advertises. These newer versions have proven difficult to date but they were probably promotional items sold or given away in the 1970s or perhaps the 1960s or even earlier. They were manufactured by John Watts who was based in Sheffield in England and the same design was used for Newcastle Brown Ale and others which just carried the maker's name. Very similar designs bearing the logos of Bass and Carlsberg were also available, although the manufacturer of those is unclear.

Based on the printed design*** on the bottle caps shown above with the opener, Guinness appear to have been using cork-lined caps until at least the 1990s before finally changing to plastic seals and removing the last vestiges of their cork-bottled past.

Given the finickiness of Guinness drinkers we can only assume they were unhappy about this small change too.

One wonders did anyone do a taste test then ..?

Liam K

*That piece of film can be seen here.

** There is a book about William Painter viewable here.

*** This typeface was used in early Guinness labels but revived in the late 1990s. The design with those two dots look like the later use but the caps could be from the earlier period.

This post really deserved more research and effort to fill in more details, but time restrictions and a need to not make it too long-winded means it's lacking some finer details..

Patents referenced and sources of diagrams:

WILLIAM PAINTER, OF BALTIMORE, MARYLAND. BOTTLE-SEALING Device. SPECIFICATION forming part of Letters Patent No. 468,258, dated February 2, 1892. Application filed June 16, 1890, Serial No. 355,603, (No model.)

WILLIAM PAINTER, OF BALTIMORE, MARYLAND. BOTTLE-SEALING DEVICE. SPECIFICATION forming part of Letters Patent No. 468,226, dated February 2, 1892. Application filed May 19, 1891, Serial No. 393,293, (No model.)

WILLIAM PAINTER, OF BALTIMORE, MARYLAND, ASSIGNOR TO THE CROWN CORK AND SEAL COMPANY, OF SAME PLACE. CAPPED-BOTTLE OPENER. SPECIFICATION forming part of Letters Patent No. 514,200, dated February 6, 1894. Application filed June 5, 1893, Serial No. 476,638, (No model.) 

All via Google Patents

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. Both photographs are the authors own and cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive and other sources are as credited. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!