Beer, Britain, and the First World War

The current economic crisis in the UK is bad. It's not easy being a pound (£) right now, faced with becoming weaker every day. But let's take a moment to think about the equally dire fate of the humble beer in an even worse time: that of World War. 

The First World War proved difficult for beer in the United Kingdom. Ales, porters, and stout all had to make adjustments in pursuit of victory. They had to reduce their alcohol content, their hours of sale, accept much higher taxes, and suffer other indignities. 

War leaders wanted to keep British soldiers and sailors relatively sober. In 1915 David Lloyd George became Minister of Munitions. He immediately declared that drink, not the Central Powers, was Britain's greatest enemy. "We are fighting Germans, Austrians, and drink, and as far as I can see the greatest of these deadly foes is drink." 

The men at the front may have disagreed about that, but their views like their lives, counted for very little. They could get weak French lagers on leave and a rum ration on duty. After the war, the medical officer of Scotland's 4th Black Watch Regiment told a hearing on shell shock, "Had it not been for the rum ration, I do not think we should have won the war."

Brewers were also not too happy about the restrictions placed on their product. Guinness managed to promote its beer and appear patriotic at the same time:

 

For Lloyd George, drink was if anything a greater foe at home than at the front. He and others in authority feared that drunkenness would reduce workers' productivity, depriving the military of needed war materials and supplies. 

The authorities were especially concerned about alcohol consumption among munitions workers, and for good reason. Mistakes and misbehavior in munitions plants could lead to deadly explosions and delays in production. Hundreds of munitions workers died in explosions, most of them sober women. (Image: Charles Ginner, "The Filling Factory," 1918)

Starting in 1914, various Defence of the Realm Acts (DORA) gave the government sweeping powers to control many aspects of British life, including the production, sale, and consumption of alcoholic drinks. One government order prohibited "treating" or buying a round for other patrons. All drinks had to be paid for by the person consuming them. 

Some changes had long lasting effects. One order severely restricted the hours when pubs could legally serve alcohol. Opening hours were limited to the early afternoon and early evening, from 12:00 to 2:30 and 6:30 to 9:30. Violation could lead to loss of the pub's license. These restrictions remained in effect until 1988. 

Government propaganda also encouraged individuals to restrict their own drinking times, as in the poster below: 

Other orders mandated that the percentage of alcohol in beer be lowered to reduce drunkenness. The average Original Gravity (OG) of beer in England and Wales dropped significantly, from 1059 to 1029, between 1914 and 1919.

The wartime government also significantly increased the taxes on alcohol. The price of a pint roughly doubled even as its strength fell. In 1918, a bottle of whisky cost five times its price in 1914. 

The consumption of alcohol fell by about half during these years. Arrests for public drunkenness fell even more drastically. How much all these changes affected the war's outcome may be debatable, but they certainly saved some lives, and changed British social life in long-lasting ways. 

The Previous Lives of Pubs: The Knights Templar, Chancery Lane

Fancy a pint down at your local bank? These days you might be able to satisfy that fancy. Quite a few bank branches, closed due to the upsurge in online banking or other reasons, have found a new life as pubs.


A prime example is the Knights Templar. Located just off Fleet Street on Chancery Lane, London, it occupies a former branch of the Union Bank (now NatWest). Its original function is emblazoned on a relief above the entrance at the corner of Chancery Lane and Carey Street.   

The pub derives its name from a crusading order of warrior knights with a local connection. The Templars established their English headquarters in the nearby Temple precincts during the 12th century. Fans of the Da Vinci Code may recall that a scene in the novel and film takes place in the Temple Church. The images of the Temple Church below date from c. 1862 and c. 1810.

The Temple area later became the location of two of the Inns of Court, the Inner and Middle Temples. The other two, Lincoln's Inn and Gray's Inn, are also nearby. In order to become a barrister in England, one must be a member of one of the Inns. 

The décor reflects the name and locale, with paintings, pictures, and engravings of Templars in and out of battle. Other pictures connect the pub to its proximity to the law courts and Inns of Court, including a large painting of Sir Edward Coke (1552-1634), considered to be the most influential jurist of the Elizabethan and Jacobean eras. 

The bar and seating area.

Be forewarned: The Knights Templar is closed on Sundays. Surely not because of rigid sabbatarian views, but because traffic is light in this part of London on Sunday. 

The Previous Lives of Pubs: A church that became a pub, for a time

NB: The church in this article did have a life as a pub, but is now a Miller and Carter Steakhouse.

Churches seem to be prime candidates for conversion (no pun intended) into other purposes. Just as numerous bank branches have closed down in recent years due to the growth of online banking, a decline in attendance has forced a lot of churches to shut their doors to worshippers. 

As congregations have shrunk, so have church budgets. Churches are expensive to maintain, heat, and light, and some have been unable to carry on in their original function. 

Hundreds of former churches have been demolished or converted into homes and businesses of all sorts, including restaurants, galleries, a climbing center in Manchester, and a circus school in Bristol. Others have become pubs. 

One of them once occupied the Muswell Hill Presbyterian Church (later United Reformed Church). Opened in 1903, it served its original function until the 1970s. The Neo-Gothic structure was "saved" from demolition or worse when the O'Neill's chain converted it into one of their Irish pubs. 

From outside it looked like the church it once was, except for the O'Neill signs and logos. The handsome terracotta and flint façade was left virtually untouched. 

Inside, the basic structure also largely remained, but the altar was replaced by a large bar, the pews by chairs, tables, and slot machines. Hymns gave way to pop music. Worship of beer took the place of worship of the Deity.

One can only imagine what the church's founders would have thought of the transition. But perhaps after a pint and some reflection, they would see it as preferable to destruction. 

Other pubs that had previous lives as churches, include the Oran Mor in Glasgow, and the Church Café and Bar, formerly St. Mary's Church of Ireland, in Dublin.