Monday, 27 January 2020

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. 





Monday, 13 January 2020

Punch Goes to War: The End of Appeasement

As fears of another World War approached in the late 1930s, the British satirical magazine Punch published cartoons that depict the shift in Britain against the policy of appeasement of the fascist dictators, particularly of Hitler. A few of the cartoons are included here.

In "Still Hope" below, the artist depicts British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain as an angel of peace flying to Germany at the time of the Munich Crisis in September 1938. Hitler was demanding that Czechoslovakia cede the Sudetenland, an area bordering Germany inhabited by a largely German population. 




The demand followed hard on the heels of the German occupation of Austria in May 1938. Hitler had justified that annexation on the grounds that the Austrians were Germans. Hitler himself had been born in Austria. The Western Allies, France and Britain, did nothing, as they had done nothing when Hitler broke several sections of the Versailles Treaty that had ended World War I.

"Still Hope" reflects the view that appeasement of Hitler might yet work. Appeasement flowed from the belief that Germany had legitimate grievances stemming from the peace settlement after the Great War of 1914-18. A few concessions to Hitler, appeasers argued, could satisfy him and preserve European peace. 

British public opinion generally favored appeasement at this point. Few people wanted another Great War, and many believed Germany had been treated too harshly after the First World War. At Munich, Chamberlain and the French Premier Edouard Daladier agreed to Hitler's demands. Chamberlain returned to Britain claiming he had secured "peace for our time."

That time proved short. Within a few months, Germany occupied the rest of Czechoslovakia and began making territorial demands on Poland. The British and French governments finally stiffened, announcing they would defend Poland against German attack. 

The shift is reflected in "An Old Story Retold" from the Spring of 1939. Hitler assures his skeptical ally Mussolini that the British, represented by the dog guarding the gate, are all bark and no bite. The artist is Bernard Partridge, who had done many cartoons for Punch during World War I.


In "-- -- and the Seven Dwarves" the same artist, Bernard Partridge, presents Hitler in the guise of Snow White, the title character of Disney's popular animated film of 1938. "Adolf White" already has "Czechy" in hand and is beckoning to the other six dwarves to follow him. Each of the dwarves represents one of the states of Eastern Europe.


The next cartoon, "Popular Misconceptions (in Germany) -- the English," is also from April 1939. The artist is reacting to German accusations that the English are trigger happy warmongers. 






Another cartoon from early 1939 "Germany Shall Never Be Encircled" portrays Hitler as a megalomaniac intent on world conquest. Hitler was ready for war over Poland but his generals insisted he avoid the First World War scenario: a two-front war with France and Britain in the west and Russia (now the Soviet Union) in the east. 




Hitler often ignored his generals' advice but in this case, he sent a delegation to Moscow, headed by Foreign Minister von Ribbentrop. The British and French were already wooing Stalin to help defend Poland. "The Calculating Bear" (Russia) is considering the offers made by both sides.


In the end, Stalin accepted Hitler's offer: stay out of the war and help yourself to eastern Poland. The Nazi-Soviet Pact of August 1939 was quickly followed by the German invasion of Poland on September 1. Britain and France declared war on Germany two days later. It did nothing to help the Poles, whose armies were overwhelmed swiftly by the German Blitzkrieg, then by Soviet invasion from the east

In the Spring of 1940, German armies overran much of Western Europe, including France. Britain now faced Germany alone, as well as its ally Italy, which entered the war once France's defeat was certain. 

During the battle for France, Winston Churchill, who had long opposed appeasement, had replaced Chamberlain as Prime Minister. In the summer and autumn of 1940, Britain narrowly survived the air war known as the Battle of Britain and avoided invasion. 

As the new year 1941 dawned, Punch published the rather optimistic cartoon, "The Dragon-Slayer," with Churchill as the title character. One would almost think the war was near its finish, but it had more than four horrific years to run. Churchill himself said of the British victory in the Battle of Britain, that it was "not the beginning of the end, but the end of the beginning." So it proved.





As it happened, 1941 was to prove a turning point for Britain, as it acquired powerful allies. In June Hitler broke his pact with Stalin and invaded Russia. In December German's ally Japan attacked the United States base at Pearl Harbor. Hitler declared war on the USA.

For an interesting, blackly comic take on the events leading to World War II, I recommend: Eric Vuillard, The Order of the Day (2017). 

Friday, 3 January 2020

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. 

Tuesday, 17 December 2019

A Victorian Cartoonist's Christmas

Victorian Christmas cartoons tended to lack the rough, sometimes raunchy humor and social satire of their Georgian predecessors. Victorian images of Christmas were more often sentimental, nostalgic, pious, and domestic. They focused primarily on the comfortably well off, and the holiday as a time of merry family celebration. Well behaved children were an important part of the scene. There were exceptions, as we shall see.

An example of the sentimental family scene is this Punch cartoon by John Leech (1817-1864), "A Family Group, Baby Stirring the Pudding." The large-headed Mr. Punch is at the center, helping "Baby," surrounded by admiring adults and children.


The 1840s saw several important developments in the creation of today's Christmas traditions. That decade saw the introduction of the first Christmas cards, by Henry Cole, a British civil servant. This one below, said to be the very first, shows a prosperous and respectable family enjoying a holiday meal. 



The publication of A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens in 1843 helped reinforce the sentimental trend. John Leech's illustration of Mr. Fezziwig's Christmas party conveys a nostalgic view of the time when Ebenezer Scrooge was his young employee. The jolly, humane Fezziwig dances under the mistletoe in a room full of happy revelers. Dickens implies that this is how Christmas could be, or rather, should be. 




Fezziwig's party stands in sharp contrast to the Christmas day meal of the Cratchit family. The occasion is pious, sentimental, loving, but meager -- meager at least until the reformed Scrooge shows up with presents, a big turkey, trimmings, and a raise for Bob Cratchit. Now enlightened, Scrooge makes Christmas what it should be.



The decorated Christmas tree began to take front and center in portrayals of the holiday during the Victorian Age. The Hanoverian monarchs had introduced the Christmas tree from Germany in the 18th century

But few of the British adopted the custom begore the reign of Queen Victoria. Beginning in the 1840s, her German husband Prince Albert helped to popularize the Christmas Tree. The image below shows the royal family admiring Das Tannenbaum.




The Royals' Christmas dos did not always receive such positive portrayals. The 1840s was not only a time of the emergence of some modern Christmas traditions, but also of the Hungry Forties, great political and social unrest, the democratic movement known as Chartism, and the Irish Famine. 

The cartoon below, from a radical newspaper, pictures the royals and company gorging themselves on a giant Christmas pudding, or "Blom Buddin" as Prince Albert calls it. Albert is presented as a freeloader helping himself the "good tings of Angland." 

Victoria hands a plate of plum stones to John Bull, the "cook" of the pudding, and says he can lick the dish and suck the stones when the family have finished. Bull represents the people who have created the country's wealth but live on crumbs.



Victorian Christmas images, such as the one below by John Tenniel from Punch in 1883, occasionally focused on those for whom the holiday was just another day of deprivation and poverty. Here, Father Christmas confronts a poorly dressed child who lives in a cellar and knows nothing about him. "This must be altered," he says, presumably meaning such dire poverty as well as ignorance of the Great Present Giver.



Some Christmas Cartoons could be positively frightening, in a humorous way, at least. An example is George Du Maurier's Christmas cartoon in Punch, 1865. The caption refers to a naturalist who says that children should not read fables and fairy tales but read natural history instead. "Here is the result [of reading natural history] on the youthful mind" Du Maurier comments tongue-in-cheek. 




Thursday, 12 December 2019

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.

Tuesday, 26 November 2019

The Previous Lives of Pubs: The Opera House, Royal Tunbridge Wells

Most British pubs were originally designed to be pubs. But many, especially in recent years, began their lives as something else: banks, churches, houses, and in this case, an opera house.


The Opera House, Royal Tunbridge Wells, Kent



Tunbridge Wells, or Royal Tunbridge Wells, has been a popular place to visit since the 17th century. Its original attraction was its chalybeate springs, which were reputed to provide health benefits. By the 18th century it had grown into a town with lots of other attractions: inns, dancing, and gambling. Many among the leisured classes came to be entertained and enjoy the nearby countryside. In the 19th century, the visits of Queen Victoria, Prince Albert, and other royals helped boost the town's image. 

View of the famous Pantiles, Tunbridge Wells



On a short holiday to Tunbridge Wells not long ago, I paid a visit to the Opera House. Almost immediately, I found myself up on the stage. A true story. If you go to the Opera House, you too can be up on the stage, or down in the stalls if you prefer. That's because this spectacular venue is a pub. But it began its life as a real opera house in 1902, seven years before the town was awarded its "Royal" prefix. The structure designed by John Briggs is a combination of Neo-Georgian and Edwardian Baroque. It had a seating capacity of 1100 for opera.

The later history of the building encapsulates much of 20th century British social history. In the 1930s, it became a cinema. It was hit by a bomb in World War II. The bomb didn't explode but did considerable damage. The building was renovated and reopened as a cinema after the war. In the 1960s, it was threatened with demolition but was saved by being transformed into a bingo hall. In 1966, it gained the protected status as a Grade II listed building.

The bingo craze subsided, and in 1996 Wetherspoons acquired the Opera House, adding it to its large chain of pubs. It still hosts occasional opera performances. The stalls (ground floor) and the stage are the main seating areas,. The balconies and boxes are seldom used, although they were packed in 2018 for England's games in the World Cup. If you are in Tunbridge Wells, the Opera House is definitely worth a visit.

A view of the stage.


The stalls and balconies (and bar).


Some of the boxes.

Stalls and balconies.



Wednesday, 20 November 2019

Carew Manor, where Tudors came to play.

How would you like to go to school in a mansion where Tudor Kings and Queens once stayed? In the grounds of Beddington Park in Surrey sits a large red brick building of considerable interest. Today it houses Carew Academy, but for centuries it was the seat of the aristocratic Carew family. 

Visitors to the manor included Henry VIII, Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, Elizabeth I, and James I. They came to hunt, fish, meet lovers, and discuss politics.



The rise of the Carews of Beddington dates from the late 14th century, when Nicholas Carew arrived in the area. He was a descendant of the Carews of Carew Castle in Pembrokeshire. He married the daughter of the manor's owners and the estate passed into his family. Nicholas rose to the high post of Keeper of the Privy Seal. 

Sir Richard Carew, who owned the house from 1492 to 1520, either created or greatly enlarged the park now known as Beddington Park. In St. Mary's Church, next door to the manor, the Carew family chapel contains the impressive tomb and effigy of Sir Richard.
  



Richard's son, Sir Nicholas Carew was a favorite of Henry VIII and a member of his Privy Chamber. Henry hunted and courted Anne Boleyn at Carew Manor, while still married to Katherine of Aragon. After Henry had Anne executed for alleged adultery in 1536, he courted Jane Seymour at the manor. (Image: Sir Nicholas Carew, by Hans Holbein the Younger)




Unfortunately for Sir Nicholas, Henry had him executed as well, for alleged treason. He was beheaded on Tower Hill in March 1539. One popular explanation is that Carew beat the king at bowls. The real reason has to do more with politics. Carew had alienated the king by championing Princess Mary, daughter of Henry and Katherine of Aragon. 

Carew had also fallen afoul of Thomas Cromwell, the king's chief minister. With those two against you, your days were numbered. Anyway, Henry never let friendship get in the way of a good beheading. Cromwell himself soon fell to the axe.

The king confiscated Carew's estates, and the manor fell into other hands for a time. It was recovered by his son, Sir Francis Carew (1530?-1611) in 1554, during the reign of Mary Tudor (Bloody Mary). 

Mary's successors, Elizabeth I and James I, visited Carew Manor during Francis' time, Elizabeth at least fourteen times. It is likely that royal visitors hunted deer in the large manor park, now Beddington Park and beyond to Mitcham.

An oft-told story relates that Francis delighted Elizabeth by presenting her with cherries out of season. Cherries were a symbol of virginity, the perfect gift for the Virgin Queen. Elizabeth's long-time favorite, Robert Dudley, Earl of Leicester also visited in the 1580s, and enjoyed fishing for trout in the nearby River Wandle. (Image: Robert Dudley)



Despite entertaining royals, Francis avoided involvement in politics, perhaps because of his father's fate. He served in one parliament, but never held any government position or received any favors from the monarchs, a fact he was apparently quite proud of. His stance may have hurt the family's revenues, however.

Francis substantially rebuilt the house. He created a renowned garden and added what is believed to be England's first orangery. He never married. After his death, the manor passed to his nephew Nicholas Throckmorton, on condition he change his name to Carew. 

The Carews fell on hard times during the following decades. They backed the losing Royalist side in the Civil War  of the 1640s and mismanaged their wealth. 

The house became rundown, and another Nicholas Carew undertook major rebuilding in the early 18th century, adding to the family debt. Soon after the work was completed, a fire destroyed the interior of one of the wings. Debts piled up, exacerbated by reckless gambling. In 1859 the house was sold.

After undergoing major alterations, Carew Manor reopened in 1866 as the Royal Female Orphanage. That era ended in 1939, and as mentioned above, it is now a school, Carew Academy. Little of the original structure remains, but the 15th century great hall with its arch-braced hammer beam roof survives and is Grade 1 listed.



The hall is occasionally open to visitors.