100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #5 - Mountjoy Brewery's Dublin Pale Ale Bottle Label

... after the cad came back which we fought he wars a gunner and his corkiness lay up two bottles of joy with a shandy had by Fred and a fino oloroso which he was warming to, my right, Jimmy, my old brown freer? - Whose dolour, O so mine!

Finnegans Wake - James Joyce (1939)

For readers of Irish literature there are few books as chaotically incomprehensible as Joyce’s Finnegans Wake, where even having a glossary at hand which helps give meaning to the odd words barely makes a dent in the reader’s understanding of what is actually unfolding between the pages given the unfathomable grammar and syntax. But, from the point of view of Irish brewing history, it has permanently recorded what may be a reference to a lost Dublin pale ale into a famous work of fiction, as the words ‘two bottles of joy’ are believed by some to be a reference to an ale brewed by the Mountjoy Brewery in the first half of the 20th century. This may not be the case of course, as a ‘bottle of joy’ could be taken to mean a bottle of any alcoholic drink to many people, and said brewery were more famous for their porters and stouts than their ales for the earliest parts of their history.

-o-

According to Findlaters: The Story of a Dublin Merchant Family by Alex Findlater, Mountjoy Brewery came about when six businessmen decided to establish a brewery on Russell Street on the north side of Dublin in 1852. The era they were about to enter was perhaps the heyday for the bigger Irish breweries, one reason for this was that the temperance societies were a little more subdued than they had been in previous decades, and anyhow had driven people away from strong liquor towards beers and weaker alcoholic drinks which were seen as somewhat less harmful. There was less competition from smaller local breweries too, as they went into a decline - one from which they have just recently recovered. Exports of beer from the island was also relatively high so it was certainly a good time to consider establishing a new brewery, and at this time porter and was in the ascendency so that was what the brewery initially supplied to both the local and export trade. Indeed, Alfred Barnard visited the brewery around 1888 for his books on the breweries of these islands and at that time could say with some authority that Mountjoy brewery only brewed porter and stout at this time, and a few years later in Ireland: Industrial and Agricultural published in 1902 the author also says that only porter and stout were ever brewed there up to that time.

Obviously ale – as distinct from porter - was being brewed in Ireland during this period and for many centuries before, and beers termed ‘pale ale’ had been brewed in the previous centuries. A Jonathan Herrod opened a brewery in Dublin in 1786 ‘exactly on the Burton plan’ to brew ‘Strong Pale Ale’ as reported in Saunders's News-Letter in February of that year, and the same publication notes that a C. Dubois was brewing an amber and a pale ale amongst other styles in 1805 in a brewery on Mecklenburgh Street also in Dublin. There is little doubt that beers which were pale in colour were being brewed in Ireland before these examples but seeing the words in print certainly add weight to its prevalence. (It is worth noting that there were no beers called ‘Red Ale’ at this time, that term was used in certain historical publications referring to poetry and prose from ancient history, and only came into use again in the latter part of the 20th. century, although amber ales certainly existed by name.)

The term ‘Dublin Pale Ale’ dates from at least the end of the 19th century as, Alexander, Perry & Co. of the Greenmount Brewery were brewing a beer by that name in 1870 according to advertisement in newspapers such as the Croydon Chronicle and Newry Telegraph. This could be classed as just a descriptor more so than a style or brand name as such, but it again is a nice early example of the wording in print.

It seems likely that Mountjoy Brewery first starting brewing ales around 1916 as that is when the registered the word ‘Joy’ to be used as a trademark in conjunction with their beers according to the Brewery History’s website entry for the brewery. This date is backed up by some similar but slightly earlier label designs in Niall McCormack’s book of labels - ‘Grand Stuff’ - which offers the opinion that two of the earlier labels date to the 1910s. Those labels do not have the word ‘Mount’ sitting above the word ‘Joy’, and this may be a later redesign as a way of reinforcing the name with the brand. Items like this can be quite difficult to date but the label shown above may be from the 1930s or a decade later, and the brewery were advertising their ‘Joy Ales’ in newspapers from at least 1930 so, we can be sure that they existed at this date at the very least. They were brewing more than one style of ‘Joy Ale’ too, as along with the ‘Dublin Pale Ale’ they brewed a ‘No.1 Strong’ and also a barley wine, as well as a short-lived brown ale from 1953.

Their ales – or at least some of them, were available on draught as well as bottle to the consumer, again according to newspapers of this time which evokes the wonderful idea of being able to ask for a ‘Pint of Joy’ in your local public house.

This mental image brings us on to a catchy jingle published in Brian O'Higgins’ Wolf Tone Annual in the 1930s that goes as follows:

I’ll tell you what, sir –:
There’s nothing surer,
For all man’s worries,
It’s a perfect curer.

It wipes the blues out,
At a single sitting,
And sends high dudgeon,
To the dickens flitting.

With its pleasant presence,
Sweet peace comes stealing,
It promotes good humour,
And a friendly feeling.

Joy Ale its name is,
See it brightly bubblin’
It’s the Joy of Ireland,
And it’s made in Dublin.

(It is worth noting that Dublin certainly rhymes perfectly with bubblin’ when the former is spoken in a certain Dublin accent!)

Sligo Champion - September 1933

Joy Ale was quite heavily advertised in newspapers as has been mentioned but also elsewhere, as there is also a photograph of people queueing for a tram in 1948 with the words ‘Joy Ale’ written brightly across the front on the Irish Times website. The name was also written in large letters above the breweries name on the side of the brewery itself, as can be seen in this undated (c. 1970) image from Dublin City Libraries.

Right up as late as April of 1955 the Irish Press could carry the following piece about the beer:

Joy Ale has proved itself on the hard-fought battlefield of public taste, and has won a special niche in the heart of ale drinkers, not only in [Dublin] city but also a good competitor with cross-channel ales.

But sadly this heart-felt love was not enough to save the brewery and it closed in 1956, and so Ireland lost yet another of its former brewing giants. And one that had outlasted many of its rivals.

-o-

We might wonder what Joyce would have said about the loss of Joy Ale?

Although it probably matters little - as it is unlikely we would be able to understand him …

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #6)

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 advertisement image © The British Library Board - All rights reserved. With thanks to The British Newspaper Archive (www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk) from whom I have received permission to display this image on this site. Label images are the authors own - as are the labels themselves. Embedded brewery image is via Dublin City Libraries Flickr page and copyrighted to them.

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #4 - The 'Irish' Tulip Pint Glass

Aesthetical judgments can be divided just like theoretical judgments into empirical and pure. The first assert pleasantness or unpleasantness; the second assert the beauty of an object or of the manner of representing it. The former are judgments of sense; the latter are alone strictly judgments of taste.

A judgment of taste is therefore pure only so far as no merely empirical satisfaction is mingled with its determining ground. But this always happens if charm or emotion have any share in the judgment by which anything is to be described as beautiful.

Critique of Judgment, Immanuel Kant - 1790 (As translated by J. H. Bernard)

It would be extremely difficult to have a discussion on the history of the tulip pint glass – sometimes called the ‘Irish Pint Glass’ or ‘Irish Tulip’ – as it pertains to beer in Ireland without mentioning how it is the glassware of choice for almost every Guinness drinker to the point where it is also thought of as ‘The Guinness Glass.’ Rightly or wrongly, words such as ‘Classic’, ‘Traditional’, and ‘Iconic’ have been attached to this glass style for some time, and from a purely practical point of view it is certainly fit for purpose for nitrogenated beers, as the distinctive inward curve helps force the head to form a bump over the top edge of the glass to create the somewhat meaningless ‘domage’ revered by stout drinkers. The narrow, curvy waist is appealing too from a tactile point of view, it being a reasonable circumference to feel comfortable in the hand and makes for a balanced feel when lifted to the lips. So, it is quite easy to see its charm as a vessel for holding such a product, and perhaps shows why it became so popular in this country compared to other regions of the world.

But it could be argued that the belief that this is the only glass that Guinness Draught should be served in lies at the feet of the marketing people who are responsible for the image that is so idolised of a ‘Perfect Pint’ and, since the advent of image-laded social media, is reinforced by influencers and others who have taken up the mantle of ersatz marketeers for their favourite pint. This in turn has led to the demonisation of pints that are deemed to be badly poured or are served in anything other than a tulip pint glass by a certain section of Guinness drinkers, where the viewer’s palate is swayed enough by this image to declare it a ‘bad pint’ without actually using any of their taste buds. And although this may seem absurd and laughable to many a rational mind there is no doubt that rightly or wrongly this mind-set prevails in a certain sector of beer drinking society. It is explainable up to a point, as many have their favourite glass style for whatever beer they drink, but most do not believe it radically changes the actual taste in any real way.

And the opposite-if-similar effect might be argued for those who look at a photogenic pint and assume that it will taste excellent based on its appearance alone, perhaps deceiving their tastebuds into believing that a stout tastes better than the same thing from a straight tumbler, stemmed glass or tankard. 

I doubt Kant ever thought that his words would be used in a discussion on the aesthetics of a pint of stout but nevertheless they do perhaps hold true with regard to how we judge what may or may not be a good or bad drink – charm and emotion do perhaps affect the literal judgement of taste.

Conversely it could be argued that appearance and the subjectivity of opinion should be used as part of our general consumption and appreciation of beer – it does anyway as we have seen – and that there is no great harm in this belief. After all, this is a trick that food purveyors and restaurants have used for many years where the image presented on the plate in front of you fools your palate into believing and accepting that taste-wise the meal you are eating is greater than the sum of its parts. We eat and drink with our eyes and all other senses, and this does indeed taint our fickle palates for good or bad.

-o-

The tulip pint glass is a relative latecomer to the world of beer glassware, arriving in public houses after the straight-but-angled conical pint (Shaker), and the Nonic with its practical if hated bump. Dating evidence for this type of social history object is quite difficult to pin down, as descriptions of glasses in books, newspapers, and other printed media rarely if ever mention a glass’s shape apart from differentiating occasionally between a tumbler and a handled mug. Catalogues from glassware suppliers are also hard to come by so we are left with photographs of drinkers and barmen in public houses and similar establishments to guide us as to when certain shapes first arrived in Ireland. The shape appears in photographs taken in Kelly’s bar in Belfast in 1963, and it would be fair to assume that they were also available down south around this time. Very early examples of date verified tulip pint glasses appear relatively rare too, with the earliest in the author’s collection dating to 1967. Given this evidence we at least have a rough date for its introduction to these shores (and quite probably to pubs in general) as the early sixties or perhaps a little earlier, although as the oft repeated adage goes, absence of evidence is not always evidence of absence.

Branded tulip pints appear around 1967 and it is highly likely that they were first used – along with, or not long after, the pint glass tankard – for Smithwick’s Draught ale in Ireland, although there is a need to be wary about this assumption, as glasses can be branded years after their verification marks have been applied. Nevertheless, the brand used by Smithwick’s product on this glass appears to match its earliest design, and not long after this time Double Diamond had their own branded version in Ireland, as there exists pint glasses with verification marks for 1972.

Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Dublin City Library and Archive

Although there can be no doubt that Guinness was being poured into tulip pint glasses from when they were first introduced - as attested by that photo taken in Kelly's pub flagged above - the earliest evidence found of a branded Guinness glass being used in Ireland dates from 1976 in a Fáilte Ireland promotion shot of the interior of The Derragarra Inn in Co. Cavan, but Guinness were still using their branded tankard as well as conical glasses at this time too. This branded tulip may be very much an outlier but it at least gives us an indication of when such glasses were available.

Close up image - Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License

Dublin City Library and Archive

The most notorious early use by Guinness of a branded tulip pint was for the ill-fated launch of Guinness Light in 1979, and it was not really until the 1980s and beyond that Guinness – as well as a host of other beer brands – began using branded versions of this style and variants of it in any major way. (It is possibly of interest to mention here that the updated version of the much-loved tulip launched by Guinness a few years back is yet another bone of contention for some Guinness drinkers.)

It is debatable whether it could be said that this shape is the ‘iconic’ glass for Guinness purely from a history point of view, as surely the famous tankard – that features prominently on those retro bar fonts still seen in pubs around the country – or the conical glass that graced much of the early advertising for more than half a century are equally as worthy of selection, not to mention the myriad of other Guinness glassware that has been used over the decades. It if fair to say that the age of the drinker plays a part in their believe regarding which glass should reign supreme – I think many of a certain age (although not necessarily old) might prefer the tankard in looks if not in actual usage.

It is worth noting that there were two half pint versions of the tulip produced but the taller version shown below appears not to have fared as well as its more popular brother and may have disappeared by the 1990s. Its heavy base made it a little unwieldly and perhaps there were thoughts it could be used as a formidable weapon!

 -o-

There is currently no information as to who first made this shape of glass but there is a good chance that it was from the prolific Ravenhead glass company, and they were certainly making them in the 1980s as attested by the logo on the bottom of glasses from this period. Also, Celtic Glass who were decorating glassware for Guinness and others were using Ravenhead as its supplier from when they commenced business in the 1970s, but here is no actual proof that they were first to introduce the design.

It is also worth highlighting that there may be something more to the popularity of glasses with curved sides (either outwards or inwards), as studies showed that the consumer drinks more quickly from a curved glass that from a straight-sided version. We need to be wary of such claims but this might explain the love by both breweries and the publicans for this shape, as the customer will drink more beer which is of course to the benefit of both of those enterprises!

Perhaps whether we follow the musings of Kant or the practicalities of science, all parties can end up as winners in the pub by using a tulip pint glass if they so wish? Either that or many drinkers have been fooling themselves as well as being fooled by those who supply beer and glasses for half a century or more!

Fool me twice…?

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #5)

(This is certainly a post that might need editing if more information comes to light ...)

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. Glass and Glass images are the authors own and cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission.

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #3 - Cask Label for Perry's IPA

Perry’s “Indian Ale” has the reputation of being stronger and better in quality than any other pale ale, whether manufactured in England or Ireland. And having once tasted that particular beverage one is inclined to be in complete agreement with that claim. In point of fact, the fame of this ale has extended to England and Scotland and large quantities of it is found in the wine cellars of connoisseurs in those two countries. […] There is one great advantage in drinking Perry’s Indian Ale; one cannot drink three glasses of it without feeling happy. Neither is it possible after so many glasses to remain unmoved; but better still, there are no “after effects” from this beer – and that is the verdict of one who knows.

Leinster Leader - 27th May 1933

Unlike bottle labels, which are a relatively common find for the small number of Irish breweries that survived into the first few decades of the 20th century, cask labels seem to be much rarer. This is of course because they were produced - and needed - in smaller quantities, and because they ultimately ended up back in the brewery who issued them or they became detached from the casks during handling or cleaning, but they do become available at times and facsimiles litter the internet on various sites, perhaps from stock acquired from closed breweries. It is at this point even difficult to know which breweries used them and which used coloured rims to differentiate their various beers – like Guinness did – or used other methods. This relatively rare survivor measures 164mm (6 7⁄16") in diameter and possibly dates from the late 1920s or the 1930s.

I am sure that some of the more casual drinkers in Ireland would be surprised that there was an Irish IPA available in this country at this time, as many see them as a recent phenomenon over here, but as many will also know, the history of calling a certain style of beer ‘India Pale Ale’ or something close to that, dates back over a century from the time when this label was issued, and its history in this country dates back almost as far.

For example, Eliza Alley, Sons & Co. in Townsend Street in Dublin were selling their ‘East India Beer’ in 1842 and declaring it similar to ‘Hodgson’s Pale Ale’ which was one of the more popular versions available in England – and beyond of course – at this time. Pale ales were available well before this date but this is an early reference to something that was at least implied to be an IPA, to use its modern moniker. This style of beers was brewed by various breweries in various guises for the next hundred or more years in this country and the last brewery to brew a beer under this name was the shown label’s owner - Robert Perry & Son Ltd. of Rathdowney in Laois, who were still brewing a version as late as 1964 according to their brewing records, although by this time it may have just been called ‘Perry’s Ale.’

Freeman's Journal - 12th August 1842

The brewery visit quoted above mentions that Perry's only used Irish malts and no adjuncts and that appears to be true at this time but in later recipes for their IPA they were using Californian barley, inverts sugars, malt extract, and caramel, as well as the usual Oregon and English hops. Their range in the 1930s consisted of a Pale Ale, IPA, X Ale, XX Ale, X Stout, XX Stout, and on at least one occasion a Special Stout.  There is another version of this label that shows that there was a bottling IPA being shipped to independent bottlers and public houses as well as a draught IPA that was served straight from cask, and indeed the source quoted above mentions ‘four varieties of draught ale being available and two varieties of bottled ale' – the two bottled probably being their IPA and the XX ale based on surviving bottle labels from this era.

The barrel sizes used by Perry’s around 1900 were 52 Gallon hogsheads, 32 gallon barrels, 16 gallon ½ barrels and 8 gallon ¼ barrels to use their own terminology from showcards showing their range and size from that period. These are different to Imperial barrel sizes used elsewhere on these islands, where a ‘Barrel’ was 36 gallons, and it may have created havoc for those who needed to keep account of barrels and returns back to Ireland from England and elsewhere, unless they had 'export' barrel sizes? These Irish volumes were a leftover consequence of Ireland having their own system of measurement in the past, and that obviously included other volumes like pints and gallons too - so the Irish pint was a smaller serve than an Imperial pint at one time, and this may have had other consequences as will be seen when we discuss glassware at a later point in the series.

Somewhat later, in June 1950, a photograph appears in the Waterford Standard that shows part of a ‘big cargo of beer casks from Liverpool’ that has been loaded onto ‘one of a fleet of lorries’ being readied for dispatch to the brewery in Rathdowney, and gives an idea of the volume and size of a ‘barrel’ of used at this time, and by now Perry’s may have changed to the Imperial barrel size of 36 Gallons.

Finally, here is another quote from The Leinster Leader writeup from 1933:

During my visit to the Brewery I witnesses an incident worthy of narration. I was seated in the office when an employee entered and spoke to my host who offered him some money. This the man declined and spoke in undertone to Capt. Pim who nodded his head and with a smile wrote something on a piece of paper and [I] must have betrayed my curiosity for Capt. Pim explained that the man and two others had for personal services rendered requested that they be given as payment a glass each of Perry's Indian Ale; and the paper he had given was an order to that effect. It was then I decided to sample that ale for myself and came to the conclusion that those men were rare good judges of an excellent drink.

What this says about the quality of the beer over the need or want of the employees to drink on the job is a subject that could be up for debate, but it certainly sounds like a ringing endorsement for Perry's IPA, although any editorial advertisement such as this needs to treated with at least a hint of scepticism.

(The Captain Pim mentioned here ran the brewery at this time and may be related to the Pim in Jameson, Pim & Co., the brewing company that merged with Watkins brewery in Dublin in the early 1900s, and possibly to the Pims who had a brewery in nearby Mountmellick in the 19th century. Perhaps not, but it would seem that the brewers of Ireland were a quasi-incestuous lot, as the same names appear time and time again in various breweries and related enterprises throughout the country.)

-o-

The idea of being able to buy a pint of Irish-brewed IPA poured from a wooden cask is certainly of great nostalgic appeal to those who enjoy our Irish beer history and would love to taste any connection with our long-lost brewing past. And it can be sampled in some ways, as certain homebrewers have repeated those recipes with minor success (and albeit with some changes, interpretation and substitution), all they need is a wooden cask, a nice brass tap - and a label to stick on its end for that last piece of authenticity ...

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #4)

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 images ©The British Library Board - All rights reserved. With thanks to The British Newspaper Archive (www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk) from whom I have received permission to display these images on this site. Label and label image are the authors own and cannot be used elsewhere with out the author's permission.