Good Green Beer - 'London's Greatest Beverage'

Down with the Emerald Ale!

Here's to good old beer, Mop it down ! 

You can have it thick or clear, Black or brown!

Though it's still as good in pubs,

It's as green in West End clubs

As the greenest debs, and subs,

Up in town!

When you're feeling 'ale and 'earty

For a drink,

From the swagger bottle-party

You should shrink;

Or you'll find 'em handing you

Beer that's bottle-green in hue -

And I wonder when the brew

Will be pink?

All the honest souls who've hankered

For a Bass

Freshly foaming inn tankard

Or a glass, Say the name of those is mud

Who would have them chew the cud

Of an alcoholic flood

Green as grass!

MERRY ANDREW.

The Daily Mirror, 6th December 1930

Green beer has - rightly or wrongly - had some bad press over recent years. This is mostly due the Yankish habit of dressing, dyeing or painting anything in plain sight a lurid shade of green for St. Patrick’s Day. Beer could hardly escape, and over recent decades, mostly thanks to social media, we have been inundated with pints of green beer every March, much to the consternation of many folks on this side of the big pond. But in these intolerant times perhaps we shouldn’t judge these dyers and drinkers too harshly, as we espouse the mantra of ‘Drink what you like.’ Indeed the beverage has history too, with some claiming it dates right back to the early 20th century, so a hundred years of tradition must count for something, surely?

But perhaps its heyday as a trendy and elegant beverage - however fleeting - was in the very first year or two of the 1930s, when green beer became a mini-sensation, and not in America, or Ireland for that matter, but in the fashionable bars of London. And we can neatly trace its rise and fall by the newspapers of the era ...

-o-

One of the earliest mentions of this new beverage is The Yorkshire Post & Leeds Intelligencer in late October 1930, and a column by a 'J. N. H. M.' who had the following to say about the beverage:

As to the green beer, I have heard many descriptions of its peculiar and individual flavour, but to me it tasted just like any other sort of beer in spite of its lurid emerald colour. Brewed in Scotland, it is at present the monopoly of the proprietors a restaurant in Bury Street, who "invented" it.

Hardly a glowing or detailed review but it shows that it had certainly been around for a short while at this point, and a week or so later this new concoction appeared in the society pages of the London Weekly Dispatch when the author Arnold Bennett was seen ‘drinking the newest drink of all in a Bury Street restaurant - green beer.’ The author, one John Grosvenor, goes on to state that the beverage ‘looks like particularly clear crème de menthe, and tastes like - beer, good beer.’

Again we have the mention of a certain restaurant in Bury Street, London, and the same venue gets mentioned again in The Yorkshire Post & Leeds Intelligencer in mid November where yet another social column tells us of the ‘chic West End restaurant’ where ‘the younger set’ had ‘seized on this attraction to illustrate love of novelty and independence.’ We also glean that it is served in round shaped goblets that when filled ‘resemble emeralds of a size to make even a maharajah gasp.’

Given these descriptions it appears to have been a strong and clear green shade, and not just slightly tinged green, and certainly not murky or hazy.

Around this time we read about it being served at the parties and balls of the great and the good at their mansions and castles, a sure sign it has become the In Thing to serve for Christmas 1930, and indeed by February 1931 The Talk of the Town column in The Daily Mail can state categorically that ‘green beer parties are the latest vogue of London’s smart set’ and go on to say that ‘in comparison, the cocktail party is now old-fashioned.’ It also states that no artificial colouring is added to the beverage and that it is a type of lager. The author ends the piece by telling us that ‘in society circles, I am told, women drink pints of it at a sitting.’

That same month we discover a little more about the beer’s origins when The Lincolnshire Echo publishes the following:

The new green beer that an enterprising Scottish firm is brewing seems to have won palates in Mayfair. Men regularly order it the more expensive supper restaurants and women too frequently drink it from cut crystal mugs, in which it looks highly attractive. On board the ‘‘Oropesa” was a stock. It was taken on board specially for the Prince of Wales. It said that the inventor of this beer is Sir Michael Malcolm, tenth baronet, Lord Digby s brother-in-law. He was severely wounded in the war and was subsequently A.D.C. to the G.O.C. Scottish Command in Edinburgh. He left the Service to go into the brewing trade, and this is the result! The distributing agents for Lincoln and district are Norton Turton, Ltd, 6 Guildhall-street, Lincoln.

So, Scottish brewed, and a change in drinking vessel to cut crystal mugs, the appearance of which would possibly have put the aforementioned maharajah's eye out!

But perhaps the best write-up on the whole trend appears in an Irish newspaper - The Roscommon Herald - in March 1931 and is worth quoting here in its entirety.

According to an American, Green Beer is London's greatest beverage. It tastes like beer but looks like creme de menthe. Although green, it is not insipid in taste. Rather in everything but appearance, it is the same in composition as a light lager beer. When habitues of a certain cocktail bar in Bury Street are feeling blue, or a little off colour, green beer is consumed to restore the rosy outlook on life they desire. It costs the same as ordinary beer, and has the same percentage of alcohol in it. This intriguing new drink is brewed in Scotland, being the first green thing ever to come from that country. It is manufactured in the same way as any other form of bottled beer, except for a secret process which prevents it from losing the verdant hue of the hops from which it - evolves. Just as an experiment, the proprietor of, the Bury Street rendezvous for smart Mayfair ordered six dozen bottles of green beer. They had disappeared by closing time. This new drink is especially popular with women. They like brown and golden autumnal tints for dresses and hats, but for drinks they ask for something more springlike. Scotland has again satisfied their capricious wishes.

"Green beer has come to stay," said the cocktail bar proprietor.

Publicans who manage the ordinary type of "thirst. emporium," to borrow a phrase of Sparrow Robertson's, however, scorn such revolution in colour of their most popular form of lubrication.

When interviewed on green beer, Patrick Michael Sweeny, better known to his friends as “Ginger," who manages a well-known Strand pub, declared in paradoxical Hibernian that there was no such thing as green beer, and he would not order any as an experiment from the brewers. He declared that the green beer development was a plot of the Scots, to obtain more money to promote Caledonian Home Rule, now that Ireland was free.

It is believed in London that soon beer will take on every hue of the rainbow. There are pink elephants and purple alligators seen every day in London and its environs. Why not blue beer with luncheon every Monday just to counteract the depressing surroundings of the office?

Notwithstanding the comment regarding the beer retaining the colour of the hops, this might be the finest summation of the beer trend ever written, even working a comment about Scottish Home Rule into the piece, however tongue in cheek.

By April it was such a success that it was available from most grocers in London according to the London Woman’s Letter printed in the Portsmouth Evening News. (A label was registered the previous month and can be seen here.) The author also pointed out that this success was an interesting social phenomenon, as ‘women who will refuse ordinary beer almost with scorn, will drink beer if it is green in colour, with the greatest relish.’  She goes on to say that at a recent party she attended there was 'an excellent lager and not a single lady would accept a glass but when the maids came around with green beer on trays three out of four women took a glass.’

Advertisements start to appear in newspapers in May of 1931 and through the summer some eye-catching ones were printed such as this one in The Tatler in July - where we see it being promoted to women drinkers - 'pleasing their palates with its subtle tang' - and we have a brewer mentioned, John Jeffery & Co. in Edinburgh. And the Michael Malcolm mentioned previously was indeed part of the management of this brewery.

Another shows and elegant and typical 1930s illustration, and again it is clearly being marketed to society women, with even a mention of it being sweeter than other beers.

And the theme continues as we can see, and perhaps it was one of the first beers ever promoted specifically toward women? But at least it wasn't pink ...

But, trends being trends of course it didn’t last, and by the following year it at abated to the point of scant mentions in newspapers and no more advertisements, pointing towards its demise as a beverage for the movers and shakers of the day to be seen imbibing. Even the author J B Priestley weighed in during a rant in The Yorkshire Evening Post in September 1932 about originality not necessarily always being a great thing in literature, and commenting on those who see anything new and unusual as being good by saying that they ‘want something new and odd to read, just as they frequently want something new and odd to eat and drink. They have the same attitude towards books that the people, who, last year, began drinking “green beer,” must have towards beverages.’ In this, Priestley was succinctly summing up the era in general, so it is hardly surprising that its popularity disappeared, replaced by the next Big Thing in drink. Plus ça change ...

By the mid 1930s it is mostly spoken about in the past test, and in slightly nostalgic tones, and so it appears that this iteration of green beer was consigned to the ever-growing beer history scrapheap.

But, a couple of questions remain unanswered…

Firstly, what was the name of the bar or restaurant where it first appeared in London, as alluded to in some of the mentions above? The most likely place was Quaglino’s which was at 16 Bury Street and certainly catered to the type of clientele who would be looking for trendy and interesting drinks, and was the haunt of both high society and celebrities - but this is of course just an assumption. 

Secondly, what was added to the beer to make it green? Probably, as today it was a blue dye, which, combined with the yellowish colour of the lager to give it a green hue. Coal tar was often used to create various coloured dyes, and some were used in foodstuffs and drink, but with the comments, if true, of it being a natural product, it was more likely to have been a vegetable dye, of which there were a few, and it would be just speculation at this point in time to suggest any particular one.

-o-

We will leave the last word to the writer of a column in The Bradford Observer in April 1944, titled ‘Palate and Palette’

The link between colours and comestibles is mysterious but undeniable. I know many a corrupt eye and palate which prefer salmon from the tin to salmon from the Tay because its pink is richer and more aggressively Turneresque. I seem to remember there was once a green beer on the market. One doesn't hear of it now, which is not in the least surprising. Green beer is as repugnant to any normally constituted taste as blue tea or purple lemonade.

Liam K

(As well as the links above, it has also been mentioned here previously by others.)

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, who have kindly let me share the above images. 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 lambic 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. Another, probably slightly later version with a buff coloured logo was also produced, which was presumably a little more durable during washing, and the glass itself appears in at least one advertisement, on a showcard from 1950 for the Italian market*. (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 the glass 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 is shown on a beermat which was dated as being from 1976, so perhaps these glasses lasted up until the 1980s? 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

*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 glass and beermat image is from the author's own collection. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

A Shot of Beer History #7 - How Old Are Beer Kegs?

We've all seen them, those rows and stacks of beer kegs that line the street outside our public houses - battered, bashed and tarnished. Most people don't give them much thought, apart from having to dance and dodge around these obstacles as they run errands or go about their daily business.

But have you ever wondered how old beer kegs are? Not barrels or casks, actual beer kegs, or at least something that sounds like them. Well it seems that something akin to a modern, metal beer keg has been around since at least 1840 if we go by this description in an engineering journal from that year ...

Ale and Porter Preserved. - In order to save ale and porter in good condition for a considerable length of time it is, for the most part, kept corked down in bottles; and though this method answers exceedingly well, yet it is subject to this inconvenience, that it causes, where a small quantity, as one draught, for instance, is only required, all the rest of the ale or porter in the bottle to go to waste, which must prove both expensive and inconvenient. It is pressure that is the main cause of keeping ale, &c., so well in bottles, and an apparatus is in use by which liquids may be constantly under pressure in casks as well as in corked bottles. The vessel is made in the form of a cask of strong tin, strongly braced by iron hoops, which stands on its end. At the upper end is a cock, soldered to a tube, which is immersed to within an inch of the bottom of the cask. At the same end is a condensing syringe, by means of which air can be forced into the cask; and whenever this is effected it is obvious that the liquor will have a tendency to escape through the tube and out at the cock with a force proportionate to the degree the air is compressed by the action of the syringe. If the cock be then turned the liquor will rush out with violence, foaming, at the same time a great quantity of froth, or what is usually termed a cauliflower head. Every time the ale is drawn from the cask, the air it contains is not exposed to the atmosphere, whilst the liquor is kept under pressure, and no vent peg is necessary. It is said all the advantages of bottling are obtained by the above process, without one half of the waste and inconvenience attending on the former system.

That certainly sounds like a prototype modern beer keg. A pressurised, metal beer container where the liquid is forced from a tap at its top, using apparatus that sounds somewhat familiar to any in the pub trade, albeit without the external tubing and using just manually applied pressurised air instead of forced pure carbon dioxide.

So it seems that those beer kegs we are familiar with are heading for being two centuries old?

Although anything resembling modern keg ale was still a quite a few years away!

Liam K

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. The above information was sourced via Google Books - Mechanics' Magazine and Journal of Engineering, Agricultural Machinery, Manufactures, and Shipbuilding, Volume 32 Knight and Lacey - 1840.. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

A Shot of Beer History #5 - Tankard Theft

In May 1913 the following report appeared in a Dublin newspaper as a warning to the city's publicans:

It is now some time ago since the licensed trade suffered great loss by the disappearance of pewter tankards, and now the tankard thieves have again made their appearance. They re-started on the North side of the city on Wednesday, and confined their unwelcome attentions to Upper Dorset street. The modus operandi is as follows:- Generally a man and a woman enter the "snug." the man calls for a tankard of porter, and the woman a bottle of stout. They occupy the "snug" for some time, and then leave, the woman having hid away the empty tankard, and leaving a pint tumbler in its place, the assistant in his rush forgetting, when he sees the two glasses, that he supplied a tankard.

The tankards are melted down along with the tops of soda water syphons and made into counterfeit coin, which is generally freely circulated after a tankard raid. the coins are very neatly turned out, and have a very good ring, but the bright colour will be detected if closely examined.

As alluded to in the report, this was a relatively common practice but it is interesting to see the 'modus operandi' here in print. So, it appears that the theft of drinkware from pubs isn't a new phenomena - not that we really thought it was - although the reasons for said theft appears to have changed through the years to one of collecting.  Although there is no mention of where the ladies mentioned in the report hid their soon-to-be-swapped tumblers and stolen tankards, it is possible they were tucked neatly into the folds of a dress but it is probably more likely a bag of some description was used. Anecdotally, that practice still exists, with glassware generally disappearing into a handbag these days - often at the gentleman's prompting - but without the switcheroo. (That's not to say that women don't steal glassware for their own use of course!)

It's 'nice' to see that there is equality and partnership when it comes to this exercise, although it must also be said that then - as like now - the gentleman can have plausible deniability as to the theft, as the stolen item is in the possession of the lady, and therefore perhaps the alliance is not quite what it seems ..?!

Liam K

PS. Don't steal stuff from pubs!

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. Newspaper research was thanks to The British Newspaper Archive, who have kindly let me share the above image from The Freeman's Journal of the 16th May 1913. DO NOT STEAL THIS CONTENT!

A Shot of Beer History #4: On Beer Festivals - Irish Provincial Narrowness vs. English Degrading Eccentricities

On Wednesday 21st of May 1873 the following editorial appeared in the Irish newspaper, The Freeman's Journal:

The wit and ingenuity of the world would seem to be on the side of frivolity and wickedness. The efforts made to entice men and women to the profane, the foolish, the enervating, and the contemptible, are far greater and more intense than the efforts to regenerate, to restrain, to correct. The follies of our day are characteristics almost superior to the genuine achievements which we can really boast. Fashion in itself is a sufficient indictment against us. The attractions of life are usually foolish in act or seeming, and sometimes they are wicked and pernicious. Any bad play put upon our stage is certain to attract attention and to gain applause. Any novel contemptibility is hailed as a stroke of genius; and the man who invents such a monstrosity as a barmaid show, a baby show, or a beer show, is instantly elevated to the rank of a benefactor. The lower senses are invariably appealed to in these clever designs; and we are sorry to see that success is often achieved by the assistance of those whose duties should preserve them from such a foul abuse of power. The latest sensation is, as we have hinted, a beer show. Babies, barmaids, pugs, and monkeys having had their year, the folly of the age finds relaxation in beer. It is needless to say that the scheme is due to the brain which originated these splendid absurdities; and it is also needless to say that the brains of those who assist at the show will be none the better for the exercise. In Woolwich Gardens [London] there are just now some five and thirty specimens of the national beverage. The visitor pays for a tasting order, and having made up his mind, or as much of that guide as remains after the discharge of a solemn duty, he votes for a particular beer. If we remember that even half a glass of beer all round will give the taster a gallon of intoxicating liquor, we can estimate his judgment, his sagacity, and his condition. To the ordinary mind there is a leering impudence in this scheme which is at once disheartening and irritating. The audacity which enables a man to submit to this sort of pastime to a civilised people is very suggestive of the spirit of the age. But the truth of the case is humiliating, indeed. These things succeed. Thousands of young men will visit the gardens and taste the beer and record their votes, and the proprietor, who is rapidly gaining a reputation for unequalled cleverness, will probably make more money in a month than a man of genius and industry can in a year. In a community like ours, where religion and morality have a real influence, a beer show is happily an impossibility. The idleness of wealth is one of the curses of England, for idleness is ever wicked or inane. In Ireland what is sometimes called our provincial narrowness saves us from many of the degrading eccentricities of our rich neighbours, and preserves for us that stern regard for decency which is one of our it most praiseworthy qualities.

There are lots of quotable terms in this diatribe on beer festivals and their visitors, I think my favourite is 'leering impudence?'

Regardless, enjoy your next splendid absurdity - wherever, however and whatever that may be ...

Liam K

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

A Shot of Beer History #2: The 'Nearly' & Others ...

I am no stranger to the historic - and fiscally prompted - short-serve pint, with terms such as the 'Meejum' or 'Medium,' and 'Small-Pint' appearing here on occasion, but it's nice to come across new geographical variances of names for this size of serve.

Up in the north of Ireland, in Bangor County Down in 1933, a hotel owner was charged with serving something other than the pint or half pint of beer that the law required. In the Marine Hotel a customer called for and was served a 'Nearly' by the barman - an amount which was 'nearly a pint'. The reason being that due to recent taxation, a pint of beer had gone from 6d to 7d, but 'for a few working-men who really could not afford to buy the whole pint' a pint glass was filled to 1 inch of the brim and sold for 6d. This, it was reported, was a common practice in Bangor and this size of pour was also called a 'Blue', a 'Royal' and a 'Schooner,' the latter being a size of pour also familiar to any Australian readers, although not a short pour.

The charge was proven but the case was discharged without a conviction or fine.

Liam K

Here's my long piece on the Meejum and the Loop-Liner - again!

[Image and report from The North Down Herald and County Down Independent - Saturday 28th January 1933]

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

A Shot of Beer History #1: The Real Baby Guinness ...

Did you know that prior to the invention of the mini cocktail composed of Baileys floating over Tia Maria in a shot glass called a Baby Guinness that there was a real version?

It was quite an English thing and didn't seem to make it back to Ireland, but it was Guinness stout in a third-of-a-pint bottle and was certainly an important size of serve if newspaper mentions are anything to go by. It was certainly around from the early 1900s to the 1960s, and possibly before and after. By the way, that same size of bottle was used here in Ireland for our relatively low alcohol barley-wine ...

Liam K

[Image from The Portsmouth Evening News from 2nd June 1956]

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

Brewing History: An Early Mention of (West) India Pale Ale...?

A couple of interactions on social media recently regarding the term 'India Pale Ale' both - East and West - got me digging into references to the term, and the earliest I could find via my go-to newspaper archive was this advertisement in a Barbados newspaper from March 1824:

It is certainly a nice early reference to to the term 'India Pale Ale' although it is with regard to the West Indies version, and Edd Mather has asserted it was darker than the 'East' version as referenced in the below-linked post by Gary Gillman. (I will list all references flagged during that interaction at the end of this post too, including one from Alan McLeod and from Martyn Cornell regarding EIPA.)

It does make me wonder if the term West India Pale Ale - purely as a descriptor - predates the use of East India Pale Ale? It is probable of course that both terms were in use well before this time but seeing it in print certainly gives, at the very least, a time-stamp to its use and perhaps how its meaning was perceived. (I have no doubt we will come across earlier examples as more printed material is digitised but it is important to record these these references when we find them.)

What is certainly of interest to me and Irish brewing history is that Lane's of Cork were using the descriptor for their West India Porter - a product they were relatively famous and well-known for - earlier in print, as this advertisement from the same newspaper but from March 1821 shows:

Again this is meaningless in a way but it is good to record these things, and it is certainly of interest to see it in print. (Incidentally, I have a huge amount of scans of documents from the Murphy's Archive in Cork University, and in a few brewing logs there are references and recipes for 'West India' beers that need analysing and time spent on them, they don't show which brewery they are from but the could be from Lane's given the movement of personnel between all the Cork breweries and their more recent merges? I need to get back into those soon.)

Anyhow, there is lots of more information written by others for you to read through but it certainly is a subject that needs more digging into, if quite carefully given the geography, history and other implications of the commercial enterprises.

More reading that came from that original interaction:

Gary Gillman: 1829 Canadian References to India Pale Ale & a follow up here West and East India Madeira: Lessons for Beer

Martyn Cornell: The earliest use of the term India pale ale was … in Australia?

Edd Mather: J & R TENNENT : ALES 1830 - 1831

Alan McLeod : More References To That Shadowy Taunton Ale

Also:

I have posted previously about Lane's Brewery in Cork.

Liam K

West India Pale Ale mention - Barbados Mercury and Bridge-town Gazette - Saturday 27 March 1824
Lane's Porter mention - Barbados Mercury and Bridge-town Gazette - Saturday 24 March 1821
(Creative Commons Attribution Non Commercial Licence.  Attributed to the National Archives of Barbados)

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 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.

Pub History: More on Mulled Porter - Rare Recipes & Mulled Beef?

In my last post on the subject, I established that mulled porter was certainly something that was available in public houses in Ireland - and elsewhere of course - the 19th century. I even discovered that specially designed or adapted mulling 'machines' sat on the bars of public houses for serving the mulled porter itself, but I did not discuss in any great detail what recipe was being used to create this hot drink.

Finding clear information on what mulled porter actually contained, apart from the heated beer itself, has proved to be a little tricky, as although there are many recipes for mulled porters and ales in old (and new) recipe books, pinning down what exactly was in the versions sold in bars in Ireland in the 1800s has been almost impossible.

One point to make is that sometimes 'mulled' just meant heated porter with nothing added to it, akin to the old much-mentioned method of just sticking a hot poker into the beer and hey presto there you had mulled porter. I have no doubt that this may have been the case in certain establishments - with or without the poker - but I did come across some other Irish non-recipe-book references that mention ingredients.

A Louth enquirer in The Farmer's Gazette from 18th of January 1868 regarding a recipe for mulled porter or ale gets the response that it contains sugar and nutmeg or ginger. Also, in Saunders's News-Letter from the 28th of July 1854 there is a brief mention in a published letter of a 'mulled porter you used to make when we were in Dublin, with plenty of nutmeg grated on top of it.' A few other online references mention both ginger, nutmeg, and sugar as well as - less often - cinnamon, which would lead to us to believe that if and when it was spiced it was mostly with these ingredients, either mixed or on their own perhaps? Hardly definitive proof but we can see that there is at least some record of these spices being used in general in Ireland if not specifically in pubs unfortunately. 

Mulled porter was not a uniquely Irish drink of course, and I am certainly focussing more so on Irish public houses here, but in Scotland and England there are quite a few mentions of sugar alone being used in mulled porter, and no spice at all is recorded. More interestingly, there were also specific mixes for adding to porter available in England, and possibly in Ireland too given the close trading ties. For example, an advertisement in The Bristol Daily Post on the 26th of October 1864 carries the following claim:

The only Genuine and Original
Lemon and Spice Extract
for making
Mulled Porter and Wine

An earlier advertisement from the same company but in the rival Bristol Daily Post in August of the same year names the mix as 'Caird's Lemon and Spice Extract' but unfortunately does not give us the recipe, just mentioning that it 'combines in soluble form the quintessence of the most esteemed Spices with the fragrance and agreeable acidity of the Lemon' and that it 'comes cheaper than using spice in the ordinary way'  - it could also be used in plum puddings and cakes, and all for just 1s a bottle!

And The Morning Advertiser from the 30th of January 1860 has this:

I'll Warm Yer. - Fettle for Mull'd Porter 8s per gallon, Ale Spice, 10s. 6d.

This was a spiced syrup that could be added to the porter for an 'instant' drink. (The word 'fettle' has a similar meaning to mulled, but seems to be more used in England as I could not find many references to the term in Irish publications.)

I did find a bar-related recipe for Porter Spice in the London printed New Guide for the Hotel, Bar, Restaurant Butler, and Chef by 'Bacchus' & 'Cordon Bleu' from 1885 that lists cloves, lemon rinds, cinnamon, allspice, coriander seed and caraway seed to which was added spirit, which was filtered after a fortnight and that spiced spirit added to syrup and bottled. It was suggested that a teaspoon be added to a pint of porter and then it could be sweetened to taste. I would imagine that this might be quite close to the proprietary syrup mentioned above, but no doubt there were a few variants of the actual spice mix.

This recipe certainly seems like one worth trying out and I am sure it would work in a hot whiskey too!

So to sum up, I could find no exact recipe for what was added to the hot porter in Irish public houses - it may have been just heated, possibly with sugar added - but I suspect it was also slightly spiced with ginger and/or nutmeg. Maybe it had a little lemon added too, and perhaps some used an instant syrup mix. In truth it was probably served a number of different ways depending on the pub and on their customers' tastes.

Incidentally, a mention in The Enniscorthy News & County of Wexford Advertiser on the 30th of May 1863 mentions that some cattle that had to swim for shore after a boat capsized were given a 'plentiful supply of mulled porter, sugar and ginger' to get them back to rights. The giving of mulled porter as a restorative to beast as well as man seems to have been quite common given the number of mentions I came across in veterinarian advice columns in newspapers around this time. So it looks like giving beer to cows is not just for certain Wagyu farmers, it was used here too and I suspect for similar reasons - as an appetite stimulant to get, in this case, sick cows to eat more, which would hopefully help with what ailed them!

Liam K.

(If you want further old recipes for spiced beers you could seek out Cooling Cups and Dainty Drinks by William Terrington, as well as this post by me on the subject.)

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 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.

Pub History: A 'Summut' - Plain, Stick & Hinion ...

One aspect of pub snacking that I have a minor issue with is the pairing of a pint of stout with a packet of cheese and onion crisps, with the implication that one makes the other better. The cheese is perfectly acceptable of course but onion with a nice stout - or any good beer - clearly ruins the flavour profile of the beverage, changing it completely as your palate is assailed and altered by the harsh onion compounds. Admittedly this is less of an issue with one of the blander of the macrobrewed stouts, and it does not mean I have never partaken of such a combination, but it is certainly not a mix that any 'Craft Beer & Food Pairing Guru' would be happy with I assume - or at least not if they are being entirely honest about how such a strong flavour is workable with any fine and flavoursome stout or porter.

But it appears this combination of onions and stout is not new, so let me transcribe here a report that appeared in a couple of newspapers in May of 1837:

DUBLIN POLICE - Henry-street Office.

Pleasant Salute. — Thomas Mulvey preferred a charge of assault against Thomas Pleasant and Ellen Beverly. He stated, after having performed his daily business, and received his daily hire, he stepped into a public house to get pint of summut.

Mr. Blacker — What do you call a pint of summut?

Mulvey — Lord, your worship! not know what that is! My eyes! Every one knows that — a pint of porter with a stick in it, and a raw hinion.

Mr. Blacker — Mercy on me! — you beast! What you want the onion for, and what do you call a stick in it? 

Mulvey — Blessed are the ignorant, for they know nothing! A stick means a crapper of strong water, and the hinion to give it flavour.

Mr. Blacker — Very well, Sir; go on with your charge. 

Mulvey — Well, after taking a drop of natheral refreshment, I was coming out, when this here man and this here woman came up, and without any more ado, set on me and beat me in the manner you see; the female little devil got stones in her hand, and beat my head with them.

Ellen Beverly — No, your worship, it was only a key. 

Mr. Blacker — I will fine you and your husband 10s. 

Pleasant — She is not wife — she is better off; she is under my protection. 

Mr. Blacker—How dare you, Sir! It makes your crime worse. Get out of my sight.

There is quite a bit to take on board here. Both a 'stick' and a 'crapper' are terms for a measure of spirits - usually whiskey but a 'summut' is a new term for me, and I am assuming the word is an alternative version of 'something' as common in certain northern English dialects. How it appeared in Dublin I do not know and perhaps it has a separate meaning.

Leaving all of that aside the big thing here is an onion being served in a pint of porter and whiskey - or at least that is implied by the comments of Mr. Mulvey. This seems odd to the extreme and I can find no other reference to either a 'summut' or the practice of serving onion in a beer anywhere else - as of yet.

We have all probably had IPAs that certainly had a garlicky flavour from the hops, so maybe this is not as bizarre as it sounds - providing it is true of course, and Mr. Mulvey our witness was not making up the drink for comical reasons, although it would be a strange place and situation in which to do so. 

There are also onions that are quite mild and can be eaten a little like apples, and perhaps they were less 'oniony' in the early 19th century anyway. Certainly pickled onions are still acceptable in certain places as a pub snack but the act of pickling does tend the mute the onion flavour, and they are usually a special variety too.

I think we need to take the whole reference with a pinch of salt - to introduce another savoury element - and it is certainly not a recipe I plan to recreate, but it is certainly a thought-provoking , or perhaps stomach-churning, combination.

Perhaps I have discovered the origin of the need for some of you to have that packet of cheese and onion flavour crisps with your pint of stout!?

Liam K.

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 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.

Irish Brewing History: Black Water - Cork's 'Great' Porter Flood

On Thursday the 5th of December 1850, just as the workers in the Beamish & Crawford brewery in Cork city were taking their morning break and they heard what sounded like an explosion followed by a roar and a crash that shook the whole building. It brought everyone to their feet and heading in the direction of the sound, where they soon found the source. A huge vat containing porter had burst, its steel bands having given way and sending a torrent of porter through the vat room that carried everything in its path, including knocking down a substantial wall on one side of the structure. As if this calamity was not enough, the force of the deluge of porter had also damaged a jigger, a machine for pumping out the vast vats, which meant that porter was also now pouring from those in turn, which added to the wastage and damage.

Luckily the porter flowed out of the brewery towards the river Lee and not out towards the street or the rest of the brewery, which certainly helped to reduce the damage. Indeed, the workers themselves were extremely lucky to have been on their break or it is almost certain that there would have been serious casualties, or worse.

According to the more detailed reports the vat held 750 tierces* or 26,500 gallons (120,471 litres) of porter plus whatever was lost from the other vats, so possibly in excess of a quarter of a million pints of porter poured into the river, which would certainly have dyed a portion of it brown if not black. The value at the time was said to be £1,500 for the porter and £350 for the vat itself, so including the extra wastage it was probably £2,000 - a not inconsiderable sum at the time - and this did not take into account the clean up and the rebuilding of the fallen wall.

No doubt it would have made more news but for the lack of lives lost, although the story was carried by many newspapers on these islands as a small mention amongst the other calamities of the time.

To put the volume into perspective the great London porter flood at Meux & Co's Horse Shoe Brewery in 1814 released 128,000 gallons from the initial vat that burst, although more was released from other vats in the ensuing damage according to newspaper reports of the time. So Cork's version was perhaps one fifth of the volume of that main vat. Not a huge amount but still quite a considerable volume if it had flowed in the wrong direction, and unlike the London flood there was no loss of life.

The vat that burst in Beamish & Crawford was probably in the location I have shown here on the Goad fire insurance map of 1897, the vat room with a similar configuration is shown in the same location in a map from 1839 in Beamish & Crawford – The History of an Irish Brewery book. There was a quay right beside the river at that time so it is possible (but not definite) that it was the wall closest to the river which gave way, given that the porter seemed to escape damaging the rest of the brewery.

A quarter of a million pints flowing out into the Lee? It brings a whole new meaning to the term Running Porter …

Liam K.

(Here is the newspaper report from The Southern Reporter and Cork Commercial Courier on the 7th December 1850.)

*Tierce = 35 Imperial Gallons (42 Wine Gallons)

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 this images on this site. Goad Map via Wikimedia Commons

Irish Beer History: Absinth Ale, Gill, and Women's Longing

In 1727 Caleb Threlkeld, an English doctor and botanist, published a small book on the wild plants growing around Dublin with the typically long-winded title for the time of 'Synopsis Stirpium Hibernicarum Alphabetice Dispositarum. Sive Commentatio de Plantis Indigenis Presertim Dublinensibus Instituta Being A Short Treatise of Native Plants, especially such a grow spontaneously in the Vicinity of Dublin; with Their Latin, English and Irish Names; And an Abridgment of their Vertues. With several new Discoveries' - and that is a truncated version. The work is exactly as described in the title and lists what seems to be every wild plant growing around the vicinity of Dublin, with various forms of their names and, most interestingly, their uses.

There are a few herbs that mention their use in ale or beer too, either added in the brewing process or combined later for medicinal purposes, and although being mention in this book does not mean that all of these herbs were definitely used in Dublin I think we can be relatively sure by some of his wordings that most certainly were. Many of these plants will be familiar to those who read about historical brewing but it is the definite mention of their use in Dublin that is relevant to us here. 

Absinthium maritimum (now Artemisia maritima) - Sea Wormwood - which he mentions is used by local 'Ale-house-keepers [to] make their Purl, great Consumption of which is made in Winter Mornings. Purl in the original signification denotes a piece blazoned and spangled with Pearl, whence the Name is applyed to the Cervisia Absinthites, as distinguished from other Ale by its Excellency.' He goes on to say it is a 'drying Bitter' and he then quotes another botanist he calls Mr. Ray as saying, 'Those who travel the Country in searching and gathering Plants, if they chance to light upon sour or ill tasted Ale, they may amend it by the Infusion of Common Wormwood into it, whereby it will be more agreeable to the Palate and less hurtful to the Stomach.'

Common Wormwood - Absinthium vulgare - (now Artemisia absinthium) is listed here also just above his mention of the maritima variety and it is seemingly the common one was used in the liqueur Absinthe, but the writer is not completely clear - to my mind at least - which he is talking about or seems to be talking about both being used. Either way it is nice to see it listed as an ingredient or perhaps a fix for beer. (The plant is classed as toxic so I would not recommend using it unless you are completely sure what you are doing if you plan to replicate any recipes it contains.)

Myrtus brabantica (now Myrica gale) - Bog Myrtle, Sweet Gale - has many uses but for our interests the author says 'The Flowers boiled in Ale instead of Hops, causes sudden Drunkenness.' I had previously heard of its use in ales but presumed it was the leaves, but here it mentions only the flowers. I am unsure about the inebriation issue - if true - unless the flowers have a narcotic quality perhaps? I would suspect it is just hearsay ...

Of Erica baccifera procumbens nigra (now Empetrum nigrum) - Crowberry - he said that 'Some use the Ling instead of Hops, and is said to give no ungrateful Taste to the Ale.' You can make of that what you will, as with many words I am sure 'ungrateful' has other meanings than how we use it now and in this case 'no ungrateful' probably meant pleasant or accetable.

Possibly the most interesting is the mention of Haedera terrestris (now Glechoma hederacea) - Ground Ivy, Alehoof - where Threlkeld states that 'It refines and clarifies Ale, of which a great Quantity is drunk in Town [Dublin]. under the Name of Gill.' This is the second reference I came across recently to this as Jonathan Swift mentions 'Gill-Ale ' in one of his letters from 1710 where he states he was 'forced to go to a blind chop-house, and dine for ten-pence upon gill-ale, bad broth, and three chops of mutton.' This was in London so it is good to see it in print in our book in reference to Dublin. This style or type of beer has been mentioned elsewhere before, it is not a new find, but its reference specifically to Dublin is of note perhaps. Also, I am assuming the ale was called after the herb and not vice-versa, as the plant is also known as Gill-Over-the-Ground, which seems logical. 

Incidentally, there is a listing of Barley and other grasses too, such as Beer, Bigg and others for those who have an interest in these things, as I know some of you do!

Other mentions include on for the seaweed 'Dullisk' (Dillisk), which was seemingly chewed like Tobacco when dry and 'gives a Relish to Beer, as Anchoves and Olives to Wine.' I am yet again not sure if I understand this completely but perhaps he means a savoury umami quality? Incidentally it 'is commended against Womens Longing', which is another piece of wording that I will claim ignorance to - and perhaps on that note I will finish ...

Liam K.

Threlkeld's book is available here.

All quotations are repeats as printed with spellings and syntax as it appears in the book.

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.

'Immortal Lager Beer'

 

LAGER BEER

Tune - 'My Long-tailed Blue'

---

I've drank of all the various taps,

With which men soak their clay,

From Red-eye Whisky up to Schnapps,

From Claret to Tokay;

But of all the draughts I ever drank

I countries far or near,

The one which takes the foremost rank

Is honest lager Beer.

Chorus -

Then give me a glass of beer,

My sinking heart to cheer,

And while we sing, com landlord bring

Another Glass of beer

Frenchmen may back their Cognac,

The Hollander his Gin,

John Bull may quaff his "'Arf-and-'Arf,'

And Paddy his 'Poteen;'

Each one may think his fav'rite drink

Does most conduce to cheer:

They've yet to know the spirit's flow

That lives in Lager Beer

Chorus - Then give me, &c.

The Temp'rance men, with tongue and pen,

(Spirits white, black and blue,)

May still engage to turn the age

'Gainst my celestial brew.

They work in vain, nor converts gain,

And fastly disappear

The feeble few of that watery crew -

The Foes of Lager Beer

Chorus - Then give me, &c.

Old Germany is still the land

Of most prodigious thinkers,

Because of this, my fav'rite brand,

They are profoundest drinkers;

And though their metaphysics slow

Our feelings feelings sadly wear,

'Tis after all to them we owe,

My much loved Lager Beer

Chorus - Then give me, &c.

Each thirsty elf will please himself

'Chaque un a son gout;'

But 'tis the topmost cheering drop

That ever tapster drew.

Should all the rest, at Fate's behest,

Forever disappear,

The world may still its ends fulfil,

Possessed of Lager Beer,

Chorus - Then give me, &c.

Great beverage of this our age!

Most happily combine

In thy bright drops the malt and hops

To make a draught divine;

The human race should have the grace

To celebrate the year

Which gave thee birth, thou soul of mirth,

Immortal Lager Beer,

Chorus - Then give me, &c.

T. G.

- New Orleans True Delta

(Via The Dundalk Democrat - 14th November 1857)

 Newspaper 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 images on this site.

Giving it Both Barrels: 19th Century Sketches of Smithwick's & Sullivan's Kilkenny XX Porter

The history of brewing in Kilkenny is a topic I keep returning to again and again as there is such a wealth of real history to be mined in old newspapers and publications online, as well as in physical books. Although sadly, I am not aware of any publicly accessible archives for any of the breweries in the city, which is also very much the case for most of Ireland's lost breweries with a couple of notable exceptions such as Perry's in Rathdowney and Murphy's in Cork. My own hometown of Carlow also has some brewing history of course, but its beers and breweries are not as famous and never reached the successes of the two main breweries in the neighbouring city down the road, and although I am still sporadically researching the brewing history of this town - and I have amassed a sizable file about it - it is more often the case that I come across something relating to Kilkenny as far as any local-ish brewing history is concerned.

That was the case with two 19th century Irish scenes by Edmund Fitzpatrick that appeared four years apart in The Illustrated London News, and both of which I chanced upon at different times. In both cases my eyes were drawn to the casks in the corner of the illustrations and the names printed on them, names I was quite familiar with from my interest in Kilkenny's brewing history - although you would have needed to be living a very hermitic life to have never heard of Smithwick's St. Francis Abbey Brewery in this country, or further afield. Sullivan's Brewery, which was on James's Street, has been rebooted or reborn in recent years too, although its new brewery tap is on the opposites side of the river.

Edmund Fitzpatrick was and illustrator and painter who was either originally from Freshford in Kilkenny or certainly lived there for a period. According to one source he was born there 1822 and died in London in 1896 and he was certainly residing there in 1858 as he advertised in The Kilkenny Moderator in November that year that he had 'lately arrived from Paris and London' for a short stay and that he was available for commissions. (The Library of Ireland has a short but interesting biography about his life on their website here.) He has some paintings hanging in Kilkenny castle, so his finer artwork was also held in high regard it appears, which is hardly surprising given the quality and dynamism of his newspaper sketches.

He was quite prolific with his work and created many illustrations for newspapers, some of which were Kilkenny focussed so it has hardly a surprise that he was familiar with the two biggest breweries in the city, and that he decided to include them in his works. The first illustration appeared in The Illustrated London News of March 15th 1853 to accompany a piece about how St. Patrick's Day was celebrated in Ireland. It is a joyful picture of someone's home and full of interesting-looking characters and imagined stories. It also perhaps gives an insight to the dress of the day and what people drank, and what they consumed those drinks from - whiskey and porter at the very least, from stemmed glass and pewter tankards. How real or imagined it is I do not know but I quite like the picture when I first came across it and especially when I noticed the 'Smithwicks XX Porter Kilkenny' on the barrel. The accompanying text and other illustrations certainly have issues that I will not raise here, but it is just nice to see a name check for a famous local brewery.

Drowning the Shamrock on St. Patrick's Night - Drawn by E. Fitzpatrick

The second image is also from The Illustrated London News, this edition from January 24th 1857 and it shows a few travelling school masters debating various subjects. Again, it is full of wonderful characters and more importantly for us we can see a cask of 'Sullivans XX Porter Kilkenny' sitting once again in the right hand corner. And again, the accompanying text is full of 'Oirish' words but I quite like the actions and expressions here too, even if the drawing seems a little cruder and perhaps a little more hurried.

The Irish Schoolmaster - Drawn by E. Fitzpatrick

Regardless, it is good to see Mr. Fitzgerald being fair and giving equal advertising space to both of the big Kilkenny breweries! It might raise the question as to whether he was berated by the Sullivan's into including them in an illustration having used Smithwick's porter in the other one?

Of course, we cannot get too excited about these, after all it is not like the are factual records or photographs, but maybe that is not the point.

Perhaps we should just appreciate the illustrations and the recorded anecdotal history for what it is, just another way of getting the information about our lost brewing history out and findable, and in to the public eyeline - highlighting actual beers that really did exist in Kilkenny in the middle of the 19th century.

And they do say a picture is worth a thousand words ... so perhaps I need not have waffled on so much?

Liam K.

The original images and accompanying articles can be found here and here via Google Books. These images were originally posted by me on my Twitter account on the 18th of August 2019 and on the 15th of November 2021.

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.