100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #25 – Keg Harp Tankard (1965)

Goodbye to the Port and Brandy,

To the Vodka and the Stag,

To the Schmiddick and the Harpic,

The bottle, draught and keg ...

Delirium Tremens – Christy Moore - 1985

It is probably fair to say that there are two well-known glass beer tankards engrained in the memories of Irish beer drinkers. One is - of course - the Guinness Waterford Barware tankard that is familiar to anyone with even a vague awareness of the company’s branded glassware beyond the tulip pint glass, or who has seen its image on retro signs and advertisements, or perhaps on those old-style dispensers that have become quite popular again on certain bar counters. But those fragile, thin-walled mugs had a tougher and heftier cousin in the same sixties and seventies period, which was of course the Harp tankard. Like the Guinness tankard, it was used in Harp’s marketing campaign, especially on beermats where its outline in yellow and blue stood out from others. It was seen to be drank by Vikings, and it and its contents were dreamed about by sweaty men in foreign lands longing for a piece of home, and a look from Sally O’Brien. It is certainly an iconic piece of glassware by any standard terms.

Harp lager itself has its origins in Dundalk, Co. Louth, where in 1959 Dr. Hermann Muender, a German brewmaster who had worked at the Dom Brewery in Cologne amongst other places, was charged by Guinness to build a lager brewery and create a new beer on the site of the old Great Northern Brewery. It was perhaps a reaction by the company to the perceived threat by - and increased sales in - continental lagers in recent years with brands such as Carlsberg already making inroads in Ireland, where it and other continental lagers were seen as cool and trendy by the young drinkers of the 1960s. But where there is threat there is also opportunity, and brewing commenced in 1960 with the launch of just a bottled product at first, as this was the standard way of serving lagers at this time. According to Dr. Muender the first three-dozen bottles produced were sent to Kennedy’s Railway Bar opposite the brewery on the Carrick Road, having been bottled in the bottling plant in old Cairnes brewery in Drogheda.

The next step was to launch the beer in the UK, which happened in 1961, and soon after it was being brewed there too - and the whole Harp Anglo-Irish history is a story in itself.* A stronger version of the lager variously known as Harp Extra, Harp Special or Harp Blue was launched in Ireland in late 1963 having been on sale overseas previously, and finally, a year later, a draught version of the standard lager first appeared.

And so ‘Keg Harp,’ as this draught product was first termed, became available in 1964 in Ireland, and advertisements featuring the tankard first appear in that year. In Ireland this was the decade when kegged, pasteurised and filtered beers began to dominate and replace bottled beers. Kegged Guinness had been around for a number of years in various serving formats, and there was now an influx of English ale brands encroaching on the Irish pub scene, leading in 1965 to the development of new Smithwick Draught by Guinness (having acquired 99% of the shares in the brewery the previous year) in an attempt to compete with those ‘foreign’ brands, even if some were brewed on the island. The launch of a draught version of Harp meant that from the mid-sixties the Guinness company was in a great position to compete in the three main beer styles on the emerging war theatre that was the bar counters of public house around the whole of the island, and beyond of course.

All of this meant that new glassware was now required in the shape of pint and half-pint receptacles, and at exactly this point during the sixties and early seventies there was a small craze for glass beer mugs in Ireland. Guinness Draught got the aforementioned Waterford Barware tankards, as did Smithwick’s Draught in a different style - a reuse of the Time rebrand ones from the previous year or so - plus there were quite a few others such as Phoenix, Celebration, Double Diamond and quite a few others. The original stemmed Harp glasses for the bottled products were also made by Waterford Glass’s barware division, but for their new draught lager Guinness went in a different direction. According to Martyn Cornell** it was produced by United Glass (Ravenhead) in the UK and designed by the prolific Alexander Hardie Williamson who is reputed to have designed in the region of 1,700 glasses for both domestic and bar use during his 27 years at the company.

But as ever with anything to do with Irish beer history, things are not quite as simple as they appear. In fact there are at least 3 different beer tankard designs in this style, albeit with quite subtle differences.

The original tankard appears to have been heavily influenced by those robust, conical pint tumblers made in moulds (as were the Harp tankards) from either side of 1900 that were still being made and in use up to the 1940s. These tumblers had fluted grooves very reminiscent of Williamson’s design and on some those grooves alternated in height just like the first iteration of the Harp glassware, plus both had thick bases and a robust feel. These early Harp tankards have a pint-to-line mark around the rim and carry both UK and Irish verification marks as to volume, although the Irish mark does not mention pint-to-line but the UK version does. There is a degree of variation of logo on these glasses too, with some carrying the words Keg Harp in one line with a crowned HL between the words, while other examples have the words in separate lines with the word Harp in gold lettering with a blue outline. Yet another variant in lettering has the words reversed to read Harp Keg with the latter word now in Gold in a stencil-like font (The earliest advertisements use this glass and lettering although with the words the 'correct' way around.) Oversized half-pint versions were also made, and that Head space in both sizes might be a nod to the beers German origins and the Teutonic frothy pour as in seen in many an Oktoberfest image. Although, there is also some reporting*** that the kegged product was quite frothy in the early days so this might have been a way of overcoming the issue and not leaving the customer with too short a serve and angry encounters with the bar person!

The next evolution of the design sees a similar volume of oversized pint but now the fluted grooves are all the same height and have reduced in number from 21 to 20, with one missing on the opposite side of the glass to the handle, on the mould line. The words Keg Harp are also now just in blue, with a slight font change, if not a new typeface. The handle remains the same, as does the general heftiness of the tankard, with both this and the previous version being very slightly wider in diameter at the base.

The final, and last version of this sixties and seventies period has the tankard reduced in volume, but not height, to an actual pint (although the half-pints with line, seem to remain at over a half pint even in this version). It has 20 grooves still, although they are more pronounced, but the handle has been changed from a round cross-section to a more squarish shape and starts lower down the body, which is now evenly cylindrical from top to bottom. The logo appears the same as the previous version and this tankard was also available with the words ‘Harp Lager' when the marketing moved away from the use of the word Keg in the seventies.

These changes are hard to track date-wise but based on verification stamps V1 seems to date from the mid to late sixties, V2 the very early seventies, and V3 from not long after, and this is the version that was probably in use up until the early eighties - although all could have been in use for long periods in different regions of these islands. There are very possibly other variations in design too as well as logo changes, and the glass colour appears to vary too from bluish to yellowish on different glasses. Whether any of these changes reflect different actual makers at different periods, or whether Williamson was involved in any tweaks is unclear, but the changes are certainly there, albeit only important and noticeable to those beset with a particular level of pedantry.

It should be noted that there are examples of late sixties verified dimple tankards which were also used for Harp, and a new version of the Harp tankard - although squatter and more unwieldly - was launched around the mid-nineties. It was made by the Dema glass company but it didn’t quite catch on and appears to have mostly been used for promotional giveaways.

-o-

Keg Harp, or Draught Harp, or Harp Lager was certainly a hugely important line for Guinness up until the eighties and early nineties when foreign lager brands, due to media exposure and changing consumer tastes, began to exert their dominance on the bar counter. Ironically many were brewed by Irish based breweries anyway, including by Guinness. Harp - the brand - seems to have just slowly backed out of the war, and at this point in time just sits in pint bottles in the odd bar, and only occasionally appears on those counters it once warred on and dominated ... like a few Irish beer brands it's now brewed in Dublin, and appears to have lost its fight, direction and momentum.

For now at least ...

Liam K

*For more history on Harp see Boak & Bailey’s write-up here.

** Martyn Cornell's post where he references the Harp tankard is here.

***  The Guinness Book of Guinness, compiled by Edward Guinness

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 source, and a link back to this post. The items featured are from the author's own collection. All sources, not mentioned, are available on request. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #24 – Smithwick’s Poker Cards (c. 1957)

Someone behind drinks ale,

And opens mussels, and croaks scraps of songs

Towards the ham-strung rafters about love.

Dirk deals the cards.

Excerpt from The Card-Players – Philip Larkin

Gaming and drinking are hardly new bedfellows, and it would be fair to say that the practice goes back many centuries if not millennia, so it was hardly a surprise that sometime in the late 1950s someone within the greater Smithwick’s brewery fold of marketing gurus had the brainwave to produce a poker game that could be used to advertise their drinks. It was at a time when many drink companies were exploring ways to brand their output and advertise their beers more in newspapers, and promote them with items such as branded glassware, beermats and other bits of ephemera. Colour printing was becoming more affordable and the use of graphics and images in newspaper advertisements was starting to become more the norm than the exception, and marketing brains were becoming more inventive in their pitching of concepts and ideas in that alleged golden age of advertising. So, it isn’t completely surprising that a brewery would go down the route of producing something a little unusual like this, a giveaway item, as a form of promotion - assuming that it was used in such a way.

The game was designed by Domas Ltd, an advertising and marketing company who also dealt with the newspaper advertisements and other marketing for Smithwick’s, and was printed by the firm of Bailey, Son & Gibson Ltd, both of whom were based in Dublin, so this is truly an Irish originated item - even if the images on the cards seem to have somewhat of an English slant? Based on the general style of the imagery and the typeface, plus the words ‘Everybody’s Drinking Smithwick’s’ on the reverse of the cards which was used in Smithwick’s advertising on the island of Ireland in the 1950s, it is from that period. The era can be narrowed down further as Domas appear to have taken over the advertising for the brewery in the second half of the decade, and the exact line-up shown by the counters was only available in Ireland at this time too, so although there are not dates on the pack it is an educated guess to state it dates from the latter half of the 1950s given the information at hand. There is also an assumption it was made specifically for the Irish market, which may not be the case of course.

As to the game itself, it comprises of 19 cards - 2 pairs of 8 different faces plus one joker - a booklet of instructions, and 24 counters showing the labels of 3 different types of beers, Smithwick’s No. 1 ale, plus their barley wine and their export ale. There are 4 different games listed in the booklet all if which seem relatively complicated, and one would think that with drink taken they would be quite a challenge! It is clearly a marketing tool aimed very much at men, which is hardly a surprise given the era we are dealing with. Some of the colour illustrations were no doubt thought of as cheeky at the time and certainly would not be tolerated nowadays. They are somewhat Gilroy-esque (the well-known Guinness illustrator) and there is something familiar about the style, although sadly the artist is not mentioned on any printed piece in the game or its packaging. (Incidentally, the illustrations in the instruction booklet clearly show the use of the flared pilsner glassware which had become the ubiquitous style used with bottled beers, as well as the standard shape used when ordering a ‘glass’ - the Irish terminology for a half-pint - of beer.) The whole game is very well designed and constructed, and they were presumably made in their 100s of not 1,000s, although they seem to be a relatively rare item now in this complete state.

-o-

But what of those ales featured on the counters and Smithwick’s beers in general in the 1950s? What do we know of them, if anything? Well, during this period these three products seem to have been the main output of the Smithwick’s company, with the Kilkenny brewery having chopped and changed its beers over the previous century or so depending on the tastes of the times, and other issues.

By far the most important and commonplace was ‘Smithwick’s No. 1 Ale,' which was predominantly a bottled product but was also available in draught form. This was a clear, golden ale - as were most Irish ales at this time - and could possibly trace its origins and popularity, at least, to the pale ale which was the mainstay of the brewery in the previous century. The travel guide writer George Measom, a visitor to the brewery in 1866, stated that there were 'two enormous pale ale vaults' in which were stored '4,000 hogsheads of ale.' Interestingly, he also mentions the malting process within the brewery and how carefully it had to be dried 'to prevent the slightest tinge or colour being imparted to the malt,' and also with regard to the boiling process he states that the coppers are uncovered 'to preserve the colour of the wort, which would be darkened by higher pressure,' so they were truly going to great lengths to keep the beer as pale as possible. It would be wrong to absolutely link this pale ale to the Smithwick’s No. 1 of almost a century later, especially as the brewery produced other beers such as what they termed Mild and Bitter ales in the latter half of the 19th century, and listed India Pale Ale, XXX, XX and X, along with various porters, toward the very end of that century. The ‘No. 1’ could be related to that XXX ale either, as that beer would certainly have been classed as such by some breweries, although XXX ales would generally be quite strong and as we shall see the No.1 ale was possibly not very alcoholic, although it may have just been weakened over time. But regardless of the nomenclature or origins - the first advertisements seem to date from the 1930s - this 1950s version of a pale ale was the breweries most popular product at this time, and it lived on for a while after the brewery changed to the Time branding for its beers in 1960. It was certainly still available in the mid-to-late sixties as advertisements show, but - sadly - is now only remembered by the ‘No.1’ printed on the bottles of modern Smithwick’s ale. A beer which it certainly is not.

That Time rebrand in 1960 also helps with our knowledge of Smithwick’s Export Ale, as this beer was rebranded as Time Ale - or Time Beer - and an advertisement for this product describes it as ‘full of golden goodness,’ which at least gives us an idea of the colour. It was presumably the weakest of the three stablemates in the Time collection, with Time Extra sounding like a stronger version of the same beer (see below), and Time Barley Wine being the strongest. Smithwick’s Export Ale only became available in Ireland in 1955 - the brewery had been exporting their beers since the middle of the 19th century - and was called ‘Smithwick’s No. 1 Export Ale’ in newspaper adverts from that year. This iteration of their export ale appears to have been available beyond these shores since 1949 before finally surfacing here.

That last product in the Time line-up can be assumed to be just a rebrand of the barley wine from the 1950s as seen on the tokens in the poker game, although that label does not appear to be as common as other designs. Whereas the previous two Time beers were served in half-pint bottles the Time barley wine came in a third of a pint version, and it is possible that this was also the case in the fifties. The beer is helpfully described in Time advertisements as ‘rich, ruby [and] heartwarming’ which gives us a colour change at last at from it pale stablemates.

Sadly, we can only guess at the strength of these beers as the Smithwick brewing records are not available to the public. In later years with the brewery wholly in the hands of Guinness, well after the end of the Time rebranding experiment and the launch of the now ubiquitous Smithwick’s Draught, the barley wine was - at 5.5% abv - surprisingly weak, and was also now available in half-pint bottles. If that was also the strength of the product in the 1950s - and there are no available records that can confirm this - then export was weaker again and No. 1 possibly the weakest? It is quite possible that 1950s and 1960s barley wine was somewhat stronger and perhaps may have weakened over the years? (This may not be the case, as a poster in a Kilkenny pub showing the prices for beers in 1962 state that a pint of Time Barley Wine could be bought for 2 shillings and 2 pence versus a pint of 'plain' Time ale at 1 shilling and 6 pence. It would be unlikely to be very strong if sold in pints, and at that price.)

There were some other Smithwick’s ales around this time, such as one called ‘Black Diamond’ which was possibly a nod to the coalmining district of Castlecomer in Kilkenny, which isn’t far from the city, plus a beer called SS, which may have stood for ‘Special Strength,’ and was the intermediate beer in the Time rebrand, where it became Time Extra.

-o-

So this poker game is more than just a piece of inconsequential, fifties brewery marketing, it is a snapshot of the general output of the Smithwick’s brewery in the middle of the 20th century, before its Time rebrand and its complete regroup around Smithwick’s Draught, the then new English-style keg ale launched in the mid-sixties that we are so familiar with in the pubs of Ireland.

This is a tangible - and relatively playable - piece of Irish brewing history.

And we certainly appear to have been playing games with Irish brands and beers ever since …

Liam K

You can read more about the Time rebrand 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 source, and a link back to this post. The item featured is from the author's own collection. The game it is copyrighted and used here for educational, non-profit purposes. All sources, where mentioned, are available on request. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #23 – Guinness 'Belgian' Tumbler (c. 1950)

I felt the most extraordinary desire for a glass of Guinness, which I knew could be obtained without difficulty. Upon expressing my wish to the doctor, he told me I might take a small glass. It was not long before I sent for the Guinness and I shall never forget how much I enjoyed it. I thought I had never tasted anything so delightful. I am confident that it contributed more than anything else to the renewal of my strength - from the Diary of a Cavalry Officer, June 1815, after being severely wounded at the Battle of Waterloo.

Ethel M. Richardson, "LONG FORGOTTEN DAYS." (1928) via The Sketch Guinness advertisement 1938

Although this object itself has but a loose link to Irish brewing history it is still an important link, as it could and should be seen as a tangible part of the porter export trade from this country, and particularly from its biggest brewery – that of the Guinness enterprise in Dublin. There is a long history of exporting porter from Ireland which has been recorded elsewhere with varying degrees of detail but the above glass connects into the Guinness export trade to Europe and, in particular, to Belgium. An export trade that to a modern eye would seem to be the equivalent of sending coal to Newcastle, given that Belgium is now synonymous with good and plentiful beer to most of those with an interest in the subject.

But, as we can see from the above - granted anecdotal - quotation, Belgium is a country that has been experiencing Guinness’s porters for quite a few years, albeit in that case by military contract via England it would appear.

-o-

This glass is a wonderful piece of workmanship that no photo will do justice to. It is made from quality glass that approaches lead crystal in colour, quality and sound, and appears to be mould-blown or similarly formed before the eight facets were cut and polished by hand to form an octagonal-shaped lower section around an extra thick base, with the bottom of the glass also polished to an incredible smoothness. As to the more boring details, the tumbler is approximately 15cm high by 8.5cm wide at its mouth, it weighs 400grms and holds 400ml of liquid, an important volume, as will transpire later. It hearkens back to similar conical tumblers of the late Victorian and early 20th century. These heavy-based, fluted pint glasses were relatively common on these islands before the popularity of undecorated, plain or ‘straight’ (‘Shaker,’ as they would be termed in America) glasses, which themselves gave way to other styles later on. There is also a nod perhaps to the continental ribbed or fluted tumblers used these days (and most likely in the past) by some Belgian brewers. The gold lettering around the harp symbol seems to date them to the mid-20th century, and the same logo was used on goblets produced to mark Guinness’s bicentenary year in 1959. The Guinness archive site dates this design to exactly 1955, but calls it a 'pint' glass so both statements may be averages. Another, probably slightly later version with a buff coloured logo was also produced, which was presumably a little more print-durable during washing, and the glass itself appears in at least one advertisement, on a showcard from 1950 for the Italian market* and also in this advertisement. That version is also shown in a press advertisement in French from the 1970s. (There is mention in the Guinness Archive site of the introduction of new Guinness glasses in 1949 'bearing our harp and the word ''Guinness'' in buff outlined in black' with a strong connection to the continent, which could mean this buff version is earlier.)

A later version of this tumbler was also made to the same size and weight but with inferior glass and the facets are moulded instead of being cut. Its bottom is slightly concave and very obviously moulded too. It has the stencilled Guinness typeface introduced in 1968 so dates from after that period.

Curiously, a slightly less tapered version of the glass with a shallower base and without the logo is illustrated in a showcard in English dated to c1912**, which might be an indication of the inspiration for the design, or adoption of an already known design for the continental market. There is no indication of the country of origin for these glasses but Belgium, France or any of the surrounding countries would be a relatively safe bet, unless they were commissioned from a Czech supplier, as they are certainly of that quality and heft. (Belgium was certainly making imperial pint tumblers with groves around the bottom for the English and Irish markets late in the first half of the 20th century, but they were somewhat cruder and wholly moulded.)

That capacity mentioned above of 400ml could be an important indicator of the true purpose of the glass, as this volume is a perfect fit for a 330ml bottle of Guinness including room for a head right up to the rim without overflowing, which is helped by the conical shape. The name and product that comes to mind in the 1950s with regard to Guinness on the continent, and Belgium in particular is John Martin in Antwerp, and bottles of Guinness Foreign Export Stout.

With the help of David Hughes excellent book ‘A Bottle of Guinness Please’ the following early history of the company can be cobbled together from various mentions and references within its pages.

John Martin wasn’t the first or only importer of Guinness into Belgium, there were others before him and operating alongside him in the country when he was appointed an agent in 1912 for Antwerp, and he started bottling that same year – although some draught stout was also being sold during this period. At this point Guinness’s Extra Stout (ES) and Extra Foreign Stout (AKA Foreign Extra Stout, or FES) were being imported into the country. This changed to Export Extra Stout (GXS) around the time Martin commenced bottling (although there is a contradictory mention of him bottling ES in 1913, and these names and abbreviations are a minefield to traverse.) and Guinness began to see an improvement in sales. This was also helped by a marketing budget that included newspaper advertisements as well as showcards, metal signage and postcards. Sales were showing some growth up to the start of World War I when exports stopped. Supply recommenced in 1920 and by 1923 the main beer being sold by Martin was ES with just some FES, the beer being bottled in reputed pint (379ml[?] approximately) bottles at this point. This was the year that they merged with the Schweppes company with Martin remaining on as the managing director. Sales were generally poor at this point and suffered from rivals Bass’s stout being stronger and pasteurised, so therefore more stable and consistent, unlike Guinness’s stouts. In 1930 Martins started pasteurising ES onsite in Brussels, where they had moved their headquarters to in 1927. After World War II sales slowly increased and Martins remain connected with Guinness right up to this day.**

The history of what we know now as Special Export Stout in Belgium is a trickier thing to pin down (and we are indebted to David Hughes again for the following information) but Martins were bottling a stronger version of ES called ES77 (1.054 gravity which possibly equated to an abv of 5.5% at most?) for the Belgian market, which was a new stout developed for the Armed Forces in 1945 exclusively in Europe, whereas other countries received a slightly weaker version. (This may therefore be the origins of what would be eventually become Guinness Special Export Stout?) Production of stronger export stouts in general had stopped in 1917 and only commenced again in 1945. By 1949 it was reported to be (1.058) and was reported to be a stronger version of Extra Stout which was sweeter with a lower hop rate than FES – this is still true today. It would appear at least that during the following years it gain some extra strength to end up at is current 8% abv. This would make sense as it was a stronger beer prior to the wars so it possibly bounced back, and helpfully, Ron Pattinson shows that an export stout brewed by Guinness was 6.6% abv in 1948, 7.8%in 1963, and 7.3% in 1966. The variance is mostly due to the attenuation of the brewing more so than the gravity of the beer but it still shows and general increase over time.

For comparison, the much-told story about how it came about varies a little depending on the teller but the Guinness website gives the most common story:

So, how did this continental brew come to life? Well, John Martin was an English brewer living in Belgium who shared Arthur’s thirst for exploration and adventure. In 1944, he ventured through the doors of St. James’s Gate with a request to create a truly Irish stout with a fiercer punch and sweeter aftertaste, to suit the palate of his Belgium friends.

The Guinness brewers, never ones to turn down a challenge, of course obliged and that’s what he got. An adventurer’s black gold.

So next time you indulge, close your eyes, and think of… Belgium.

A visit to many other internet sources and the odd book all tell a similar tale, although factual, first-hand content is unavailable in any commonly available, public sources. So what we are left with is the snippets regarding the beer as published by David Hughes plus a little bit of marketing-driven history and a fair degree of conjecture. The actual history of the beer itself is probably a combination of facts and story, complicated by the various Guinness brews and how they changed over the years.

Branded continental glassware for Guinness isn’t new, and even Martins themselves had commissioned embossed glasses for the Belgian trade in 1910, and other bottlers were producing etched glasses with ‘Guinness XX’ on them not long afterwards*** – and there may be earlier examples. And it is highly possible and probable that Jon Martin commissioned these glasses for his export stout from the very late 1940s onwards, although they were also probably used for draught product on occasion. The same glass shape but with the more modern Guinness typeface is shown on a beermat which was dated as being from 1976, so perhaps these glasses lasted up until the 1980s and beyond? Either way they should be an incredibly desirable product for the Guinness glass collector, although they seem to be relatively rare on these islands at least. But perhaps, like the early Guinness tankards that were used here in the sixties and seventies, they have become prized possessions on the continent, and sit in collections throughout Belgium, and beyond. They are indisputably the finest pieces of glassware ever produced for the brand, even more attractive than those aforementioned tankards.

And perhaps somewhere in Belgium, in an old and half-hidden pub in some quiet and peaceful town, when you order a bottle of Dublin brewed John Martin’s Special Export Stout, and as you are sitting facing a charming square, the kindly old bar owner will reach over your shoulder and place that beer on the marble-topped table, followed by an old beermat on which is placed one of these gorgeous glasses.

Wouldn’t that be a treat?

Liam K

(EDITED: 17th and 18th of May 2026)

*The Book of Guinness Advertising page 175 - Jim Davies1998

** ‘A Bottle of Guinness Please’ - David Hughes 2006

*** The Guinness Online Archive

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. Much of the research was thanks to David Hughes' book, and the glasses and beermat image is from the author's own collection. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #22 – Macardle’s No. 1 Beermat (1973)

The Licensed Grocers and Vintners’ Association, at their meeting held yesterday, decided to increase the price ales and ciders by a halfpenny per bottle, and No. 1 Ale by one penny. The price stout and porter remains unchanged.

The Dublin Daily Express - 25th October 1916

If there is one still-existing beer brand that elicits a wave of nostalgia when mentioned in certain company it’s Macardle’s ale. The ‘Large Mac’ from the shelf, or the cooler depending on your tastes and the weather, has a small but important cult following, who against all odds seem to be keeping the ale alive and stocked in certain bars and off licenses across the country, with a bias towards north Leinster sweeping down towards the southeast of the island. The draught version appears to have vanished entirely from the pub counter even in its literal homeland of Dundalk, gone the way of the Small Mac and the six-pack of dumpy half-pint bottles. Now this once well-known and important brand is only offered in a pint bottle, and by default is normally served with a half-pint, trumpet-shaped pilsner glass. Along with bottled non-nitro Guinness, it is the default choice for many drinkers who prefer the fuller flavours of microbrewed beers and find themselves in a pub in Ireland which only stocks ‘The Usual’ line-up of taps serving the somewhat anodyne output of larger breweries. In its current form Macardles is a well-carbonated, amber coloured ale with a pronounced bitter hop bite and a relatively decent malt aftertaste. It would be difficult to compare it to any other ale currently available in Ireland, so it’s perhaps best described as being somewhat reminiscent of a throttled back English bitter, especially when served at ‘shelf’ temperature and from a fresh-brewed batch. 

-o-

Like most Irish mainstream beers, Macardle’s has been reduced to a brand owned and produced by a multinational corporation, but the brewery history behind the name goes quite far back, and was once a huge part of the now-lost brewing history of the island. The history of most Irish breweries can be quite complicated and the origins are often lost and muddied by oft-repeated errors and marketing-friendly white lies, but looking back at the early period when our brewery was called Macardle, Moore & Co., and using as a starting point an advertisement for the enterprise which was published as a part of The Freeman’s Journal’s series on Irish industries in June 1920, a short, early history and status of the brewery can be gleaned. The headline over the full page advertisement read ‘A Famous Irish Brewery’ and it also included some images of the brewery buildings and workings which sadly didn’t print too well at newspaper quality, so are not too noteworthy here. The advertisement states:

The firm was established by the late Mr. E. H. Macardle [who] took over, jointly with the late Andrew Thomas Moore […] an old brewery, carried on in the Napoleonic era by Duffy, Plunkett & Co. and afterwards by Jas. Mc Allister. [The] brewery was established in Dublin Street, Dundalk, but it was subsequently transferred to Cambricville, where the industry is now carried on in the most pleasant surroundings, the windows of the vat room, for example, looking out over a wooded demesne. Cambricville was originally a Huguenot settlement, where the exiles carried on the manufacture of Cambric, according to the processes which had made Cambrai famous. The De Joucort family founded the industry in 1740.

Although a good starting point, this is a somewhat succinct history of the business, and we might need to delve into other sources - mostly newspapers from the period of the brewery’s birth - for clarification, especially as any dates and details seem a little scarce in the above piece.

In 1860 or possibly the year before, Edward Henry Macardle entered into a partnership with John Charles Duffy to greatly improve the existing brewery on Dublin Street in Dundalk. John C. Duffy had probably owned the brewery along with other family members - James and Arthur Duffy and his uncle Patrick Wynne - since at least the early 1830s, and perhaps prior to that it was owned by Patrick Wynne alone. After John Duffy’s death in 1863, Andrew Thomas Moore, a cousin of E.H. Macardle, became his partner in that enterprise on Dublin Street, and so started Macardle-Moore reign as brewery owners in (and just beyond) the town.

Meanwhile, the brewery at Cambrickville, just outside Dundalk but quite close to the Dublin Street brewery, was possibly set up c. 1804 by a Simon Loraghan who is named as living at a house on the brewery site when it is up for sale in 1807, the brewery was ‘only three years at work’ at that time according to a newspaper advertisement. (Modern references to the brewery mention that this was the site of an earlier brewery in the 18th century owned by a William Stuart, of which there is no mention in commonly available sources from this time. Mr Loraghan may have had nothing to do with the brewery and may have just been a caretaker for the site, or an agent for its sale. Plus the 'three years at work' could refer to a rebuilt brewhouse on the site.) A James Duffy and Edward McAlister are later in partnership - with others - at the brewery up to 1822 when the partnership appears to have been dissolved. This was around the same time that a bankrupted Richard Darley lost his share in the venture, having seemingly surviving a similar fate in 1816 and 1819, when it was noted he was a quarter partner in the brewery. (This may have been just a protracted delay in resolving the issue of his bankruptcy, and it would be of interest if Richard Darley was related to Henry Darley who had a brewery in Stillorgan, and Bray, in the 19th century but that seems difficult to prove.)

A James McAlester (the surname spelling seems to vary) was running the brewery there alone from 1824 when the partnership called Duffy, Plunkett & Co. comprising of McAlester, John Duffy and Patrick Plunkett was dissolved, although it appears Plunkett had already left the business in 1821. The enterprise was known as ‘Cambrick Ville Brewery’ at this time. McAlester was still brewing there in 1846 according to Slater’s Directory, although four years earlier in 1842 barley, brewing utensils as well as furniture and livestock was being sold at an auction to pay off some debts, and the brewery was certainly unoccupied by the 1850s as referenced by council records in newspaper at this time. So Slater’s may have been listing it as an existing brewery structure even though it was not currently in production.

But in 1863 it was being advertised to be let, had been completely refurbished and was in ‘first rate order and repair’ after a ‘considerable sum’ had been spent to bring it up to working order, with applications to be made to the owner James McAlester, according to an advertisement late that year. As well as the brewery itself, there was an onsite malt house with 8,000 square feet of flooring that was capable of producing 300 barrels of malt weekly. A substantial 6-bedroom dwelling house with a parlour, drawing room and library was also included in the letting. So all in all an impressive site.

In late 1865 the partnership of Macardle, Moore & Co. agreed to buy (or let) the brewery from McAlester, with advertisements for its sale at this time particularly noting the quality of its water for brewing ‘pale long keeping ales.’ The brewery appears to have begun production of ale and porter there in 1866  with the plan at the time to keep both breweries in operation, but it appears that the Dublin Street brewery closed soon afterwards. Malting continued at the Dublin Road site for a number of years, with the old site being called ‘the old brewery’ in newspaper mentions into the early 1870s. It should be noted that the spelling of the new brewery has now changed to Cambricville Brewery, although the spelling does seem to vary through the years.

The article from 1920 continues:

The Firm has also a number of modern maltings and branch grain warehouses, where the grain is stored and subsequently transferred to the brewery, where there is a branch line and siding which connects with the Great Northern Railway system.

One of these maltings, which is in Dundalk, is known as the Butter Crane Maltings, because it was used as a storehouse for butter and bacon and other Irish produce during the Napoleonic Wars, when the British Government drew a large portion of their supplies from Ireland.

[…] the stout and porter and ale brewed in this famous Dundalk Brewery have achieved a national reputation, and the firm are now extending their connection right through the country, and are appointing agents where not already represented. Their beverages have long been in great demand in Army canteens at home and abroad, and the directors believe that their products have only to be tested to command the widest approval and support.

The piece goes on to emphasise the ‘purity and wholesomeness and really palatable flavour’ of its beverages, and although it reads very much like the advertisement it is, it certainly shows the importance of the brewery at this time in Ireland, and - like most Irish breweries - how it brewed a range of beers, not just one product, from its earliest time on Dublin Street, in fact it won a medal at the Irish Exhibition of Arts and Manufacturing in 1882 for its porter, not its ale as is sometimes reported. The military connection mentioned above was a huge part of their business, as was an export trade, and as were their tied houses in Dundalk and surrounding area, with some being as far away as Belfast. It was one of the best know breweries in the country for many years before - after some changes in ownership and being turned into a bottling plant with minimal brewing - it finally closed in 2001.

-o-

But what of the last remnant of this brewery’s drinkable history? The last remaining format, the pint bottle with its red, white and black label showing the words ‘Macardle’s’ along with ‘Premium Quality’ and ‘Traditional Ale,’ a label which is less than iconic but more than just plain familiar to many drinkers. The one on the back of the bottle states ‘Originally brewed in Dundalk in 1863 with the finest raw materials of Irish grown barley, hops, water and yeast. Macardle’s is known for its distinctive flavour which is often described as nutty in character by ale aficionados’ and interestingly that first sentence could apply to the 1863 beer or the current one, depending on how you interpret it. It is also proclaimed it to be 4.0% alcohol by volume, and the name of the brand owner and current brewer, ‘Diageo Ireland, St. James’s Gate, Dublin 8’ also features here. 

Prior to the current rebrand, which occurred in two steps in the mid-1980s and which focussed on tradition and quality, the labelling featured the term ‘No. 1 Ale’ prominently on its bottle labels and caps. Advertisements in the 1960s read ‘Number one for quality. Number one for strength. Number one for flavour,’ and that byline regarding its strength goes right back to the early 1920s when it was being advertised as ‘Macardles No. 1 Strong Ale.’ This was when it was being first advertised under the ‘No. 1’ ale in newspapers and there is even an implication that it was a new brew with advertisements stating that ‘every effort is being made by [the brewery], by using the choicest material, regardless of cost, and the best skill in manufacture to produce an ale second to none’ (1923) and that the brewery ‘was glad to note that our efforts in producing this famous ale have been so highly appreciated by the public’ (1926). This could be just down to interpretation but it could be read as being a new product at this time.

Regardless of the date it first appeared, a look at this ‘No. 1’ ale from its advertised traits in the 1920s through to its current, renamed form appears to flag something amiss. Even in a country that had barley-wines at 5.5% alcohol by volume in the second half of the 20th century it is highly unlikely that a 4% ale would be called a ‘strong’ ale, as Macardle’s No. 1 was in the 1920s and 1930s, nor could it be beer of ‘strength’ as it was promoted as during the 1960s, which hints at a recipe change, or perhaps just a dumbing down in alcohol from this period. ‘No. 1’ ales were generally the strongest of the ‘normal’ ale output of a brewery. There appear to be no brewing records available for public viewing for Macardle-Moore but we can look at a brew that was made by them in 1911 to mark the kings visit which had been supplied to soldiers at the time and was probably around 5% abv or more based on an advertised original gravity of 1.053. This was a 'Pale Bitter Ale' originally supplied to troops so possibly not their strongest-brewed effort, and although this is a decade or so before the ale called ‘No. 1’  appears it would seem unlikely it would be weaker than it. For reference, down the road in Drogheda, rivals Cairnes were brewing their eponymous Cairnes ale (which is listed in early brews as a ‘No. 1’) in 1928 to 5.5% abv and Perry’s in Rathdowney had an XX ale in 1933 that they marketed as a ‘No. 1’ ale which was also 5.5% according to brewing records available for those breweries. (And that is without mentioning the English brewed and hugely popular Bass No. 1 ale.) All of this would make one assume that the Macardle-Moore ‘Strong Ale’ was at least this strength, or possibly a little higher in alcohol, and perhaps – like some of those mentioned from other breweries - it fell slightly through the 1940s and 1950s before eventually dropping by the 1980s to the now 4% abv. (The quotation about the increase in ale prices at the very start of this piece implies that No. 1 ales were stronger and more expensive too.)

Both of the ales mentioned above from Cairnes and Perrys were pale ales, as no caramel, dark malt or roast barley appear to be used in them at this time. Bass and Smithwick No. 1 ale were also pale ales so it is certainly more than possible that Macardle's No. 1 was also a pale ale at this time, although without access to brewing records we cannot be sure, as there were certainly some darker ales available in Ireland in the past.

For reference, in the mid–to-late fifties the brewing output of the brewery was Macardles No. 1 Strong Ale, Macardles Export, as well as their brewing Double Diamond. The latter being pasteurised and filtered, and the others appearing to have been bottle conditioned, another small if significant change from the present day, according to a newspaper report that mentioned its bottling of other ales too.

Also of note is that in the 1990s the recipe was said to included flaked maize which was unlikely to have been used in earlier brews (although not impossible of course), and if this beer dated back to 1863 then it would certainly not contained such a fermentable as Macardle-Moore took out advertisements in newspapers in the latter part of the 19th century where they were at pains to state their porter and ales included just barley malt and hops (Pacific hops at times!), along with water and yeast. This inclusion of maize would also hint at a reformulation at some point, perhaps in the 1980s when the newer branding and the dropping of the ‘No. 1’ occurred.

Lastly, a presentation given to The Old Dundalk Society in 2019 contains a slide regarding the head brewer Bernard Rodgers, who was head brewer from the 1920s until 1952 claims he was the 'first brewer to brew Macardle Ale.' Unfortunatley no further information is given.

-o-

The question is whether, as is claimed on the bottles, it is the same ale – or any ale - that was brewed in 1863, presumably in the Dublin Street brewery as it could not have been brewed in Cambrickville.

This seems highly unlikely, if not impossible.

Although, ‘Traditional’ is one of those word that means many things to many people, and so it could be argued that it was brewed traditionally with a base at least of hops, malt, water and yeast. 

But the barley variety and how it was malted will be different, as will the hops – and they are probably in pelleted form. The mash and brewing regime have probably changed and been curtailed, and perhaps the yeast and water profile are different – although the latter would be the easiest to replicate. The colour of the beer has possibly changed too, darkened to fit in with the false ‘Irish Red Ale’ history. The beer is no longer bottle conditioned as it was in the past, and lastly, we can see that the alcohol amount has also probably changed. It may be roughly based on a recipe from 1863 but it’s difficult to track a continuous unbroken path to the present for such a beer.

But, it may certainly be the beer that was brewed in the 1980s in Dundalk, and perhaps fifty odd years is tradition enough?

Liam K

There is more information on the Macardle Historical Society website here, including the presentation and slide mentioned above. New information is being added all the time.

There is a wonderful collection of aerial photographs of the brewery from 1956 here on the NLI site.

(Newspaper references available on request.)

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 and the Macardles beermat image is from the author's own collection. The Cairnes' brewing record mentions is held in The Guinness Archive and the Perry's records are in the Portlaoise local studies department of the local library. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #21 - Murphys of Clonmel Flip-Top Bottle (c. 1910)

On Saturday night between 11 and 12 o’clock the Clonmel Brewery was broken into and a quantity of porter and of the new ale manufactured at the brewery, known as “B.B.”, was stolen. The thirsty visitors effected entrance to the brewery means of a disused hayloft which looks out on Dowd’s Lane in the quay direction. The door of the hayloft, which is about eight feet from the ground, was shut-to but not locked. Several dozen of porter and “B.B.” were taken, and it is certain that there must have been at least two disciples of Bacchus concerned in the affair. Sergeant Booth is looking the matter up, but so far no arrest has been effected.

Further inquiries show that the circumstance of the door being open was due the fact that they hay in the loft, which was ordinarily piled up against the door, thus keeping it closed, had been removed. This would go to show that it was some parties with intimate knowledge of the inner arrangements of the brewery who committed the depredation. Suspicion was first aroused by the fragments of two or three bottles, which were found in the street, underneath the hay loft, next morning.

The Cork Examiner - Wednesday 27th July 1910

Flip-top bottles are often thought of as a relatively modern idea as a bottle closure device, and not something which is generally associated with Irish brewing. But the object shown above shows that they have certainly existed here in the past, and were not developed and exclusively used by the Grolsch beer brand of which they are most associated. Their use by German breweries is also know by those who partake of beers from some of the relatively smaller companies of that country too, and Germany appears to be where the origin of this precise type of closure begins – way back in the 1870s.

In 1878 Nicolai Fritzner of Berlin was granted provisional patent for the bottle closing device using a porcelain stopper with an Indian rubber or leather washer and a wire clasp. He had already patented something similar in 1876, and a year earlier than that a Charles de Quillfeldt from New York had registered a very similar method of closure, although the bung used to close the bottle was made completely of rubber so isn’t quite the same as the version today’s beer drinkers are familiar with, and even prior to this there were other wire and bung bottle closing inventions but again they were not quite the same design. The true inventor is open to interpretation, and there were court cases and complicated debates regarding copyright infringement that we won’t go into here, suffice it to say that these general types of bottle closures have been around since the mid-1870s at least, and the ceramic stoppered version we are familiar seems to appear near the end of the decade.

This bottle was made by the firm of Charles Borron & Co., as shown by the letters CB&C which stand proud of the base. That company operated in Newton-le-Willows in Merseyside in England from the mid-1860s until it closed in 1925. The glass used itself is dark green and the volume it holds is exactly one half pint. The words ‘T. Murphy & Co. Ltd. Brewers Clonmel printed on the ceramic stopper and the same wording - with the ‘T’ extended to the name ‘Thomas’ - is in relief around the base of the bottle itself. The date of the bottle is tricky to ascertain to any precise degree of accuracy but it must fall between the very late 1870s when the closure mechanism was invented and 1925 when the glass bottle manufacturer ceased trading.

But we can perhaps be a little more accurate based on an advertisement for the aforementioned ‘B.B.’ ale that was produced for the Thomas Murphy brewery which shows our exact bottle design complete with a handsome label and a pale drink poured into glass. The words ‘Drink Murphy’s B.B.’ are printed above the image. The ale was described as new in 1910 in the above report on the theft, and it was still being advertised in newspapers in 1915, so this gives us, perhaps, a better indication of the date of our object notwithstanding that the bottles could have been used for other beers and ales prior to this period. There is no record of what style of beer ‘B.B.’ was and it would be obvious to suggest Best Bitter, although perhaps a better guess would be ‘Bitter Beer’, a term used by others. Adverts say it was ‘a genuine refreshing drink’ but very little else is mentioned about it.

-o-

What became known as Thomas Murphy & Co. appears to have started as a partnership with Thomas Greer and Thomas Murphy, both Quakers - as were many of our Irish brewing hierarchy - in the late 18th century, although some sources suggest it was started just by Greer alone with Murphy coming into the business later. Their foundation date seems to be a little vague, with later sources claiming it was 1798 but advertisements in newspapers and guide books give the date at 1797 and 1799. The earliest mention, in a newspaper from 1863, states the 1797 date so it is possible that the 1798 date was adopted because of the importance of the rebellion that occurred in that year. It is also possible, and likely that there was a year or two in between the sourcing of the brewery site, its fit out, and when it commenced its first brewing which could also account for the variously used years.

Dubious dates seem to be a minor issue with the brewery’s purported history, as another major event – or calamity – that occurred was when the entire brewery burned down. The date given in every available history for the brewery states that this was in 1829. It wasn’t. It was in 1825 as attested by a few newspaper reports that sate that on the morning of Saturday the 8th of October a fire was spotted in the brewery and that the entire premises (measuring 200 ft by 500 ft at this time)was soon engulfed in flame, the fire having started when a kiln became overheated and burst through its protective tiles, causing huge flames to escape into the brewery itself*. Luckily no one was injured and after the insurance pay out the brewery was rebuilt and began expanding, eventually stretching from Nelson Street across Dowd’s Lane and down to the quay. The main building itself was and is a handsome six storey structure and it can be seen in its prime in this illustration from c. 1889, although no doubt with some artistic license applied. At this time the site stretched to 2 acres and it employed 200 people if write-ups of the day are to be believed, plus there were coopers making casks and carpenters building drays – it was a large and important endeavour for the town and surrounding area.

From The Book of County Tipperary by George Henry Bassett · 1889

In 1829 the brewery of Greer and Murphy were producing Double Strong Ale, Pale Butt, Ale, Porter and Table Beer** and in 1833 Thomas Greer dies and in that same year the brewery can be seen to be exporting its beers to England. The partnership was officially dissolved in 1838 and the brewery was now known as Thomas Murphy & Co. By the 1860s and 1870s they were brewing East India Pale Ale, and Strong Ales and Mild Ales as well as Brown Stout according to various newspaper advertisements. The pale ales in particular were attested to be as good as any of those produced on these islands at the time.

-o-

As an aside, in 1887 the following incident occurred, which is worth noting:

A curious occurrence took place here on Wednesday. It appears that on Sunday last a champion football match, between a Carrick team and one in Clonmel, was played on the ground of the latter, and that at the termination of the play a serious row took place. On Monday six of the Carrick contingent were arrested and fined £2 each by the Mayor of Clonmel. On the same day a drayman named Patrick O'Neill, in the employment of Mr Murphy, brewer, Clonmel, arrived in Carrick with some barrels of beer, ale, and porter. He was hooted through the streets by a large crowd, the publicans refusing to deal with him. So serious did things turn out that the police had to escort him out of the town for some miles. On Wednesday he returned only to meet much the same treatment. Not a trader in the town would purchase, nor could he get stabling for his horse or refreshments for himself. He left, after been hooted about, under police protection.

The Dublin Daily Express - 3rd June 1887

If nothing else, this shows that sport will trump beer every time, and the passion - and resentment - of its supporters is something that hasn’t changed to this day.

-o-

The brewery struggled in the early part of 20th century due to losing of the lucrative contract to supply army canteens as well as increased competition, well-publicised strikes, and raw material supply issues before finally closing in 1925 - the very same year as the maker of our bottle - with a portion of the extensive premises becoming a shoe factory and other parts becoming the cider factory for new firm of Magner’s, now known as Bulmers and a brand owned by C&C.

The brewery building erected on the quays still stands as testament to the once great brewery and employer in the town, as do other buildings previously owned by the firm, and if you stand with your back to the river you can see to the left of the imposing stone and brick façade of the brewery, the archway where once drays loaded with casks, and perhaps our bottle, left the brewery for parts unknown.

It's important to remember that once upon a time, we had another Murphy’s brewery…

Liam K

* The Southern Reporter and Cork Commercial Courier - 11th October 1825

**  The Tipperary Free Press - 17th January 1829

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

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

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

“There's been an accident.”

“Where?”

“In the brewery yard at the old weighbridge.”

“How many injured?”

“Two men.”

“Badly?”

“I don't know.”

“Right, we're on our way!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Harp – Spring 1963

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

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

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

-o-

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

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

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

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

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

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

TRAGIC CLONMEL AFFAIR

Two Brewery Workers Killed.

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

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

FATAL ACCIDENT IN MANDERS' BREWERY

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

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

-o-

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

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

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

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

FATAL ACCIDENT

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

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

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

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

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

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

DEATH FROM HYDROPHOBIA

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

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

A HORSE STUNG TO DEATH

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

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

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

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

So brewers, be safe.

Liam K

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

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