Thursday, 16 March 2023

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

... after the cad came back which we fought he wars a gunner and his corkiness lay up two bottles of joy with a shandy had by Fred and a fino oloroso which he was warming to, my right, Jimmy, my old brown freer? - Whose dolour, O so mine!
Finnegans Wake - James Joyce (1939)

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

-o-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sligo Champion - September 1933

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

108_Mountjoy_Brewery

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

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

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

-o-

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

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

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #6)

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post.

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

Wednesday, 8 March 2023

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-o-

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

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

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

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

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


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


 -o-

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

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

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

Fool me twice…?

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #5)

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

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post. Glass and Glass images are the authors own and cannot be used elsewhere without the author's permission.

Wednesday, 1 March 2023

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

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

Leinster Leader - 27th May 1933

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

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

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

Freeman's Journal - 12th August 1842

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-o-

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

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #4)

Please note, all written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and cannot be reproduced elsewhere without permission, full credit to its sources, and a link back to this post.

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

Thursday, 16 February 2023

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #2 – Guinness’s Brewery Guide Book (1914)

There is a constant stream of visitors passing through the brewery. A special office and staff is set aside for their reception. They come in from the street, and hand over their permit to a clerk, who in return for it supplies them with an illustrated guide book to the works, containing at the end a packet of half a dozen beautifully finished post cards of various parts of the works.

A visitor to the Guinness brewery reporting in The Kirkintilloch Herald - 19th August 1914

The Guinness Storehouse and the attractions contained within have been consistently topping the most visited places in Ireland for many years, and regardless of what people think of its history, heritage and beer there is no doubt that it has been a huge success from a tourism standpoint, enticing many a visitor to these shores and to the city of Dublin since it opened in 2000, replacing the older visitor’s centre in the Guinness Hop Store. According to Guinness’s own marketing, at The Storehouse you will ‘experience the history, heart, and soul of Ireland’s most iconic beer’ by means of multiple floors filled with all thing Guinness and Guinness related.

Visiting the famous St. James’s Street Brewery is not a new phenomenon and dates back quite far, as there were visitors getting a look inside those famous gates, and right into the brewery itself, well over a century ago at the very least. The guidebook shown here dates from 1914, the very year of the above quotation and sounds extremely like the one described in it, although sadly this one is missing the six postcards and the envelope from the back. The well-worn embossed cover with its wonderfully scrolled decoration and even the text itself evokes that era just at the start of the Art Nouveau period and this design appears to have been in use until a more durable and substantial hardbacked guidebook was introduced in the 1920s. There were earlier versions too such as one form 1897 titles “A Visit to St. James’s Gate Brewery Dublin” published by the London Stereoscopic and Photographic Company in England mentioned in the Dublin Daily Express in August 1897 and an earlier one with the same title in the National Library of Ireland dated 1889 printed by Wilson, Hartnell & Co. of Dublin - incidentally, a company which is still operating today under a somewhat different if related guise.

The 1914 publication was printed by James Walker Ltd. from Rathmines, Dublin who claimed to be ‘Printers to the Brewery’ according to the end page of the booklet. The small volume features a brief history of the brewery as well as a description of what the visitor will see as they journey through the works. The brewing process is described in reasonable detail within its 16 printed pages of text as the visitor is taken through the newer of the two breweries on the site. Interestingly that journey included a visit to the then new fermenting house which was built in 1907, this is the building that currently houses the modern visitor’s centre with the Gravity Bar where people can try the beer perched on top. That 1914 tour also ended with some beer sampling, with four types being offered – ‘”Foreign” Stout for export to foreign countries; “Export” Stout for special trade; ordinary Double Stout, generally called Extra Stout; and Single Stout generally called Porter.’ Some facts are listed in the back of the booklet too, including that the brewery covers 50 acres; uses 180,000 acres of barley and 8,000 acres of hops; they were selling close to 100 million gallons of beer a year; the amount of duty paid by the company in 1913 was £1,368,355, which was almost triple what the next largest brewer on these islands paid; staff numbered 3,650; and the number of bottle labels issued daily put end to end would reach from Dublin to the Isle of man, and the total quantity issued in 1913 would stretch 26,000 miles, ‘or more than round the world.’

The descriptions and facts in the guide book had been written, assessed and vetted by Guinness and although they give quite a lot of interesting detail, it perhaps lack some of the more entertaining descriptions and interesting nuggets of information we might crave. For that we must turn to the words written by those who went on these tours and then wrote about them in newspapers and in other publications.

The Journal of the British Dental Association, Volume 9 published in 1888 does not at first glance seem to be somewhere to find a poetic and dramatic recount of a visit to the brewery but it contains a wonderful report of a visit to the Guinness site by someone who signs themselves ‘Stout and Mild’ regarding an excursion by the association to the James’s Gate Brewery in August of that year. It is peppered with the flowery prose that was quite common at this time.

“In companies of twenty the members of the Association, and their friends of both sexes, were led off by courteous guides holding high office in the establishment and were initiated into all its mysteries. Mysteries there were, sufficient even to satisfy a modern romance writer. Indeed, the wanderings of Rider Haggard's mysterious ‘She,’ in the bowels of her rocky African fortress, or of Virgil and Dante's in the infernal regions, sink into comparative insignificance when compared with the wanderings of the British Dental Association through this weird region of booming machines, steaming cauldrons, colossal mash tubs and frothing seas of darksome liquid.

Forward went the little companies, soon falling apart, by foaming torrents of sweet-wort dashing side by side with cooling streams, on either side endless plains of germinating grain. High above head advance parties could be seen threading their way across narrow bridges and looking small at the dizzy height, like roped gangs of mountaineers when viewed through telescopes from some Alpine valley. Onward still now peering through the Stygian darkness of unfathomable reservoirs filled with the fermenting liquor, whose heavy froth could dimly be seen rising and falling in sullen gloom as it emitted its deadly gaseous poison. On again now letting the eyes wander at leisure over veritable oceans of tranquil stout, calmly awaiting the right moment for ‘cooling down.’”

It would be quite difficult to find a more remarkable description of a tour of any brewery, and the writer continues …

“At this point the Association reassembled, and a dainty little railway train awaited. All being seated, the diminutive engine started off at a merry pace, but soon however entered a darksome tunnel which led by a spiral descent to a part of the establishment, on the level of the Liffey, where a new world opened up. Here the barrelling process held sway. Barrels in thousands were everywhere. Barrels were being made, mended and filled the stout being conducted in pipes from the storage vats. Little railways, both broad and narrow gauge, intersected in all directions. It was amusing to see the way in which the narrow gauge engines were made serviceable on the broader gauge when necessary. These little creatures were lifted bodily into the air by a sort of crane, where they snorted with evident delight at the prospect of their promotion, and were then let down into trucks on the broad gauge line, whose wheels by an ingenious arrangement they were able to keep in motion. 

But one thing remained, and that was to taste the result of all this outcome of human ingenuity, skill and enterprise. The Association tasted and pronounced the result excellent.”

It is fascinating to hear amongst all of that flamboyant description how the narrow gauge engines were used on the larger gauge system – not to mention that wonderfully imagined thought of a ‘snort’ of delight that they gave at the knowledge of moving up in size!

Another professional group, The Society of Chemical Industry also reported on a visit to the brewery in 1891, which was published in The Pharmaceutical Journal and Transactions in 1892, and although quite matter-of-fact compared to the above piece it relays some interesting ‘facts’ - although we must be quite wary of anything reported by visitors.

“About one tenth of the whole is roasted malt, giving the beer its characteristic colour and flavour, the rest being the ordinary dried variety Irish, Algerian and Tunisian barley are all used.”

So our writer is reporting that at this time 10% of the grains used in the brewery were roasted malt, and that some of the pale malt, or most likely the barley used to make the malt, was North African in origin. That same Algerian and Tunisian barley is mentioned as being used by Power & Son’s distillery, a place they visited before heading to Guinness’s. Indeed, a messenger had to be sent from the Guinness brewery to Power’s to find out where the visitors might be as it was feared they might have gone astray!

The writer continues the tour into the fermentation area.

"The requirements of the work [in cooling the fermenters] however made another machine necessary, and one with liquid carbon dioxide was put in. In order supply this it was suggested that the carbon dioxide given off during fermentation should be collected and compressed. This was done and the surplus sold other users of freezing machines worked by liquid CO2."

It appears from this report that Guinness were harvesting and reusing the carbon dioxide that was a by-product of brewing in their cooling systems, and were also selling it elsewhere at a price reported to be 4d per lb. and in bottles containing 25 lbs. each. This is certainly an ingenious and profitable way of making money from something that is essentially a waste product, and is something that is still being done by breweries to this day.

The report of the tour contained more information too, such as how the casks were cleaned in an ingenious way …

"The cask is placed in a cradle, is partly filled with hot water and closed by a bung to which a spiked iron chain is attached inside. The frame communicates a tumbling motion to the cask and at the same time rotates it about its major axis, so that the washing action of the water and the scraping action of the chain take place at every part of its interior."

The writer also goes on to mention how the rims of the casks are colour coded depending on what they contain, single stout (porter) being white, double stout the familiar red, and the export yellow. (Something that was reported by Alfred Barnard on his visit to the brewery for his books on the breweries of these islands around this time too, and Alfred goes into much more detail on the brewery, buildings, process and other details than any other author at this time.)

Our starting quote referenced a visit by an unknown writer in a newspaper to the brewery in 1914, the date of our guide book. The title of the piece was 'A Political Pilgrimage to Ireland – Visit to Guinness’ Brewery and in the article the writer impresses upon the reader just how ubiquitous Guinness is in the city of Dublin – this hasn’t changed in a century.

"Guinness’ Stout dominates Dublin. […] As soon as you pull up your blinds in the morning you see a line of barges making their way down to the harbour laden with barrels of stout. […] If you cross the street without due care you are apt to be run down by Guinness’ motor lorries rushing the stout down to the place of embarking [and] the firm’s traffic all but monopolises the streets of Dublin."

The author also mentions that all Guinness ‘motor men or bargemen may be known by their 'head gear' as they all wear ‘felt hats of orthodox shape with a black band of glaced [sic] leather going right over the crown from ear to ear.’ These appear to be bowler hats like the one shown here from a later guide book, with the band clearly visible.

Our visitor also tells us that at this time the site had 9 miles of railway track and 20 locomotive engines, and other figures such as the total amount of water used by the brewery is 7 billion gallons a year!

There are more figures to come, the above-mentioned fermenting house that is the current visitor’s centre was originally constructed with 2 million bricks and 3,650 tons of steel, along with 200 thousand cubic feet of concrete. That building contained 16 fermentation vessels with a total capacity of 208 thousand gallons. The vat house nearby contained 190 vats with a total storage capacity of almost 14 million gallons or 110 million pints or porter. Those were made of English oak and hooped with of half a mile of iron strapping. On the transport side of things, the stables housed 100 horses – mostly Shires and Clydesdales – and the company operated 60 motorised lorries that could reach the heady heights of 12 miles per hour. (That comment makes a mockery of the earlier comment about being run over by a ‘rushing’ vehicle! )1,500 new casks are made weekly and up to 15,000 casks can be filled daily, with a dozen being filled at once from each racking engine. (I truth, most of these figures had been pulled by the author from a slightly early edition of the souvenir guide, as the one shown here was printed a couple of months after their visit, but the design seems to be very similar if not the same.)

And lastly of course the author got to sample the produce – the same four variations mentioned above – ‘In neat aluminium mugs the visitor gets a fair sample of each, and with his breath turned makes his way into the outer world.’ It is of interest to see that right up to the end of the tour the focus is on the process and the product, with the sample beers at the end served in plain metal mugs. There is no hint at the marketing that would follow, where the idea of ritual, aesthetics and the drinking experience – rightly or wrongly - would perhaps become more important than the actual beer itself, although obviously you need to have a product before you build hype. That might make some people a little sad about how our brewing history has been reduced to products where we once had breweries, with beers like Smithwick’s as well as Guinness, and even the less well known Macardle’s each having essentially been compressed into a brand, and it could be argued that in doing so it severed their true historic connection to a richer and more varied past for many drinkers - a connection we should try to re-establish.

Regardless of all that, there is many a beer historian and others who would love a chance to experience the beers of this earlier era. Perhaps Guinness might oblige at some stage with a new/old exhibition where visitors get a chance to taste the porters of the past, preferably out of one of those aluminium mugs …?

Liam K

(Here is the link to object #3)

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 images of the featured booklet are the authors own, as is the booklet itself.

Friday, 10 February 2023

100 Years of Irish Brewing in 50 Objects: #1 - D’Arcy & Son's Anchor Brewery Livery Button (c. 1900)

On the closed square piano a pudding in a huge yellow dish lay in waiting and behind it were three squads of bottles of stout and ale and minerals, drawn up according to their uniforms, the first two black, with brown and red labels, the third and smallest squad white, with transverse green sashes. 
James Joyce – The Dead

That colourful description by Joyce of bottles of beer lined neatly on top of a piano in the supper room which was situated upstairs in a tall house on Usher’s Island - a little west of the centre of Dublin city on the south side of the river Liffey - is quite a strong and evocative image, the words conjuring up the formality and neatness of soldiers in uniform on a parade ground in a time long gone. The story is set around the end of the 19th century and at that time there were a number of breweries within the general vicinity of that house, and it is very probable that these unnamed (and of course fictional) beers were the relatively local Guinness stout, plus imported Bass ale from England as both were extremely popular at that time in households in the city and their labelling would fit Joyce’s description.

And although we will be staying around the environs of Usher's Island, it is a uniform other than the military ones alluded to above that is of significance to those with an interest in the history of our country's brewing past.

-o-

When we consider those who work in breweries we tend to focus on the owners and the actual brewers of the beer, but there are a host of other departments in any successful brewing business such as marketing, administration and - very importantly - the logistics of getting the beers from the supplier to the consumer. Nowadays, transportation is often handled by cold-chain distribution in vans and trucks but in the past the delivery of beer would have been literally handled by draymen who drove their horse drawn carts laden with barrels through the cities and countryside, going either directly to the local bottlers and wholesalers, or to canal boats and trains for distribution around the whole country, or perhaps even to ships - starting a journey which might bring those barrels half way around the world.

This small button measuring 3cm (1 3⁄16 inches) in diameter is made of a copper alloy - possibly brass - and shows some green patination where the gilding has worn away to expose the base metal. It is probably from the livery uniform of one of the draymen who worked for the Anchor Brewery of John D’Arcy & Son on Usher Street, not far from where those aforementioned other-uniformed squads lined up. It features the words ‘J. D’Arcy & Son Ltd. Brewery’ and a nicely embossed anchor whose pronged ends appear to resemble demons’ tails. The button must be from between 1896 and 1926 give the date when the brewery became a limited company and when it closed, but it is probably from the earlier part of that period given other examples of the same style date from that era. The reverse is missing the eyelet and shows the name of the supplier ‘Comyns & Son, College Green, Dublin’ who were sellers of livery uniforms too, although there is no indication that they also made any actual uniforms for D’Arcy & Sons - they may have just supplied the buttons to the brewery for use by another maker - but it is certainly possible they did so.

In the book ‘Ireland: Industrial & Agricultural’ published in 1902 there is a photograph of a drayman wearing a double-breasted livery jacket, and although the buttons cannot be made out clearly, it would seem logical that they would be similar if not the same as the one shown here. The drayman is holding a beautiful, four-year old roan Clydesdale gelding called ‘Butter Scotch’ and they had jointly won the top award for the best horse and float at the Royal Dublin Society Spring Show in 1898 as well as the Guinness sponsored Challenge Cup for overall best horse and vehicle - awards which D’Arcy’s were well used to winning according to press cuttings from this era. The fine-looking gentleman’s name was Thomas Curran and they beat competition from The Mountjoy Brewery, two of Guinness’s floats, and one from Bass, Ratcliff, and Gretton Ltd. to win their awards according to RDS records.

Around 1889 Alfred Barnard visited D’Arcy’s for his series of books on the breweries of Britain and Ireland and wrote extensively about the business. As ever with his visits, Alfred goes into a lot of detail regarding his tour of the brewery and its layout but of most interest with regard to our current topic is the mention of fifty Clydesdale and ‘Irish’ horses being stabled on the site, with more being hired during the busy season. D’Arcy’s employed upwards of 300 people at this time too, some of whom would have been the draymen who worked with those horses, delivering casks of Darcy’s porter around the city. We can see some of those draymen again in this sketch from Alfred’s book and the uniforms of the dray men are visible, as are the floats - or drays - themselves.

To get a better idea of the layout of the brewery we can look at the Goad’s Fire Insurance Map from 1893, and this gives another good insight into the brewery layout in glorious detail, including the buildings with the extensive stables mentioned by Alfred. Incidentally, you can also see how the site backed on to the John’s Lane distillery of John Power & Son, indeed in places it is difficult to make out where one begins and the other ends.

This map ties in nicely with this sketch of the brewery from Stratten & Stratten's 'Dublin, Cork, and South of Ireland: A Literary, Commercial, and Social Review' from 1892. This again shows our draymen coming and going from the brewery and aids our understanding of the scale of the business.

This button is a tiny but tangible and tactile part of Ireland’s brewing history and deserves to be appreciated as such, and we can now perhaps picture in our minds a drayman at the turn of the last century donning his livery uniform before starting the hard work of delivering casks of ale around the city of Dublin. This type of button did not just adorn the livery uniforms of D’Arcy’s brewery, as they appear to be a relatively common addition to many a jacket at that time and later. The Phoenix and Guinness breweries used them too, and it is probable that all of the bigger brewing concerns in Dublin and elsewhere had similar. There is very little provenance attached to the example shown here but looking at the broken eyelet it is likely that breakages and losses were common, and no doubt there are a quite a few similar buttons to be found, perhaps in the corner of an old cellar or having fallen through a grating on the street, still waiting to be found by an appreciative soul.

-o-

Some Brewery History Notes: A Complicated Backstory ...

The foundation date of the original brewing concerns that occupied the site of D'Arcy's Anchor Brewery is unknown according to Alfred Barnard in his write-up mentioned above - although other sources such as an advertisement by the brewery in The Sport in May 1897 and a write up from which the above image of an entrance gate is taken in The Freeman's Journal in September 1913 mention a date of 1740 - which we must take with a pinch of salt. Alfred also mentions deeds in the possession of the then proprietor which date back to 1782 when the site was owned by a Kavanagh & Brett, with the brewery coming into the hands of John D’Arcy via a John Byrne in 1818, and was owned by his son Matthew D’Arcy at the time of Alfred’s visit. The brewery was expanded by Matthew with the addition of more land, buildings and equipment and by then the area taken up by the brewery and its operations was seven acres. Of note was the mention of a copper brew kettle of ‘mammoth’ proportions which was said to be the largest in the world at this time – an interesting claim if hard to prove. It held 1,300 barrels, took over a year to make and on its completion ‘thirty people partook of refreshments therein.'

We can add further to that information, as John D’Arcy was in partnership at first with a James McNulty according to Saunder’s Newsletter in October of 1819 when that partnership was dissolved. The earliest mention of a brewery on Usher Street in newspapers is for a porter brewery owned by Samuel Madder & Co. from London who were brewing there in 1785 according to Saunders's Newsletter in April of that year. In 1797 it was owned by a John Ormston who became bankrupt according to Saunder’s Newsletter from June of that same year. A newspaper advertisement in The Hibernian Journal in March of 1806 states the brewery was owned (or operated) by an Edmund Grange & Co., where they produced porter under the Hibernian Anchor Porter Brewery name, and a Leeson - a famous Dublin brewing family name - is mentioned with Grange as an owner in Saunders's News-Letter of March 1809. John Byrne may have been the next owner of the site before then selling it to John D’Arcy. To add further complications the aforementioned Kavanagh & Brett were still brewing together up to 1799 when their partnership was dissolved according to Saunders's News-Letter in October of that year, with John Brett residing in Usher's Island. This is at odds with their mention by Alfred above but they may have been brewing on a different site.

The Anchor Brewery appears to have had quite a convoluted history, not helped by the issue that there may have been multiple breweries on Usher Street and the streets surrounding it, which may muddy the ownership details. It is possible that there were breweries side-by-side that became a single entity in time. There are a number of histories available online and in books but many seem to just repeat parts of Alfred Barnard's history, although some do give a varying account - so reader beware.

-o- 

Finally, it is worth mentioning that by 1914, when Joyce’s Dubliners book of short stories that features The Dead was eventually published, Darcy’s brewed ‘O’Connell’s Dublin Ale’ as well as porter, having acquired the brand when the bought The Phoenix Brewery a few years previously. Later examples of the labels from D'Arcy's time of marketing the brand are red in colour so perhaps the original Phoenix label (from around the same period as our button) was also a shade of red? It would be fanciful to think that it was beers from the Phoenix brewery that were in Joyce’s head at the time he wrote those lines, but perhaps I am wrong about Guinness and Bass and there is a - albeit tenuous - connection between the passage quoted above and D'Arcy's brewery on Usher Street ...

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 image of D'Arcy's brewery gate © 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. Button images are the authors own - as is the button itself - and the image of the D'Arcy Label is from 'The British, Foreign, and Colonial Tradesmarks' Directory' from 1866. The Goad fire insurance map of Dublin was sourced from Wikimedia Commons. Other images are from where stated.

Wednesday, 1 February 2023

Pub History: 'A Bottle of Porter on Draught'...?

In April of 1902 a curious case was heard at the Limerick Petty Sessions where a publican named Patrick Fennessy came before Mr. Hickson, a local magistrate. The publican had been summoned by a Sergeant Kennedy, who was an Inspector of Weights and Measures, for selling 'two bottles of draught porter.' The magistrate Mr. Hickson appeared a little confused as to what the legal issue was, and what was meant by 'bottles of draught porter' - his thinking presumably being that you could have bottled or draught porter but it could not be both..

A Head Constable called McAree was also in attendance and he went on to explain that publicans had previously used a draught beer measure called a 'Medium'  - which was smaller than a pint and cheaper more importantly - and as these were illegal, as they were not a verified and accepted volume, the publicans had been fined for using and selling them. But now the publicans were just using the same glasses 'and they called the porter supplied in them "bottles of porter on draught."'

Mr. Hickson was still understandably confused by this (as are we at this point) so he asked if he was to get a bottle of porter and pour it into a measure and said bottle contained more than a pint but less than a quart what would be the legality, to which the Sergeant replied that this would be a legal sale, but that in the case before the magistrate the porter was drawn from a cask into a 'medium' glass but this was just called 'a bottle of porter on draught' - presumably by the customer to differentiate it from any other porter pour or 'real' bottle. The defendant Mr. Fennessy claimed he was just giving the customer the volume he would have had from a bottle (this may indeed have been less than a pint - see my article in bottle sizes referenced below) but the magistrate naturally ruled against him - ignorance of the law being no excuse - and told him to forfeit the illegal measures and pay the costs in the case.

I have covered some of this before in articles such as the one on the Meejum (Medium) measure - and there are grey areas as far as the legalities are concerned for those selling beer, or so some claimed at least. It appears that the publican was referencing the reputed pint or another size bottle that was less than a pint (I have written on here previously about bottle sizes) so he may have genuinely thought he was doing no wrong with his medium measure of porter, and it meant he could sell that size for a certain cost to keep some of his poorer customers lubricated - little like Dublin's 'Loop-Liner' too perhaps - but as with much of this reported history we might take this whole piece with a grain of salt, as at times reports like these are not entirely accurate.

Either way it appears on paper at least that in the early 20th century Limerick drinkers were asking for 'A Bottle of Porter on Draught' in order to receive a medium measure!

We really did have odd drinking terminology in this country ...

Liam K

The Weekly Irish Times - Saturday 5th of April 1902

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 image on this site.

Friday, 27 January 2023

239 Seconds? When the Guinness pour sped up ...

In 1965 The Belfast Telegraph carried the following advertisement for draught Guinness Extra Stout...

'Guinness Extra Stout on Draught. Served the new way. Ulster's draught drinkers can't get enough of it. Because when they ask for it in their favourite bars they know they'll always get a pint that's well-drawn. Perfectly conditioned. And in half the time it used to take. Draught Extra Stout is finding its way into more and more good bars every day. Look for it in your favourite, and try the smooth creamy goodness of it. And see if you don't ask for more.'
Ignoring the emphasising on 'conditioned' in the advert - which was possibly a way of making the kegged product sound more 'legitimate' - we will focus instead on the words 'in half the time it used to take,' and although it is unclear if they mean 'new' draught Guinness is now quicker to serve than when it was first launched in 1959 or just quicker compared to the older cask porter, we can see how at this time the speed of the pour and serve is seen as an important selling point by the marketeers in the company.

A far cry from a few decades later when Guinness's marketing emphasis changed to slow being better than fast. A quick poured Guinness was by then - and still is - seen as an abomination.

I guess we can put it down to them finding out that 119.5 seconds is the optimum pour time, can't we...?!

Liam K

(I was reminded of this advert during an exchange with The Beer Nut on Twitter.) Edit: See his comments below too.

Edit: Gary at Beer Et Seq has more thoughts on this here.

All written content and the research involved in publishing it here is my own unless otherwise stated and can not be reproduced elsewhere without full credit to its source and a link back to this post.

The page that carried this advertisement was marked © Independent News and Media PLC and I have received permission to reproduce it here. All rights reserved. Sourced via The British Newspaper Archive (www.britishnewspaperarchive.co.uk).