Thursday 12 May: ROBIN HOOD AND LITTLE JOHN, RABLEY HEATH (Malcolm Allen, Chris Haden, Mike Horsman, Elvis Pile, Andrew Swift)
COMMENT: I've been slow to update the blog because the site has had technical problems, also I have been sunning myself in a beautiful Landmark Trust villa in Northern Italy built in the 1540s by the great architect Andrea Palladio but which lacked internet access. Even Palladio couldn't think of everything. So by the time I'm writing this the Robin Hood and Little John is a bit of a distant memory. However, distance does not fade the memory of Keeley, the fascinating (and very nice) barmaid at the RHLJ who those present were still remembering in the Woolpack a fortnight later. I doubt if Keeley is remembering us! Too old and too boring!
The RHLJ is a name which suggests great antiquity, conjuring up images of medieval men in tights running round Sherwood Forest, or at least of Errol Flynn, but it isn't necessarily so. There are apparently over 100 pubs of this name but many were created in the nineteenth century when sentimental nostalgia for the middle ages was as its height. However, this particular RHLJ is older; it was certainly in existence on 3 August 1801 when John Carrington, amongst other functions the Chief Constable of Hertfordshire, entertained his constables there. Admittedly the Chief Constable was a less grand function then than now, but if such an event happened in 2011 the taxpayer would probably foot the bill; in 1801 it appears Carrington paid for it himself. Progress isn't always a good thing.
The penalties of progress were also shown all too clearly by a framed newspaper cutting on the wall about John Derry, a local resident and RHLJ regular who on 6 September 1948 was the first man to fly faster than sound but who four years later was killed, along with 27 other people, when his plane crashed at the Farnborough Air Show.
Monday, May 16: RED LION, Digswell Hill (Chris Haden, Elvis Pile, Andrew Swift)
COMMENT: I missed this one, being in Italy, so not much to say. This Red Lion seems to have got lost in the crowd of all the other Red Lions (there were around forty of them in Hertfordshire in the nineteenth century!) It's obviously an old coaching inn on the Great North Road as are a remarkable number of the surviving pubs in our part of East Herts, but apart from that not much information.
Friday May 27: WOOLPACK, Hertford (Malcolm Allen, Chris Haden, Mike Horsman, Elvis Pile, Andrew Swift, John Westwood).
COMMENT: Signs of modern life at the Woolpack, an old Hertford pub which is on the site of the second brewery opened by McMullens (in 1832). The pub television screens were showing the test match and the conversation was about solar panels! Food was good standard pub grub and the solar panels must have been fascinating, we stayed there longer than any pub so far.
The Woolpack is a good name for a pub in an agricultural county (in the nineteenth century Hertfordshire ranked as one of the five or six leading agricultural counties in England). A woolpack is a large bale of wool prepared for carriage or sale. It's said to have weighed 240lbs. Hertford in the nineteenth century had an important regular agricultural market and I imagine the Woolpack, like other pubs in Hertford, played an important role for thirsty and hungry buyers and sellers on market day.
Thursday, 2 June 2011
Monday, 9 May 2011
Pub Odyssey 18
Wednesday 4 May: CHEQUERS, WOOLMER GREEN ( Chris Haden, Mike Horsman, Elvis Pile, John Westwood)
COMMENT: The Chequers is a really old pub name, probably brought to Britain by the Romans nearly 2,000 years ago. Evidence from Pompeii suggests it was already in use there (before 79AD) perhaps referring to a game such as draughts played on the premises. In Britain it was associated with a money table, hence the word "exchequer". Some inns used the sign to indicate that they were willing to change money or act as bankers in some way.
There isn't much information about the origins of the Chequers at Woolmer Green, but the website says it was a coaching inn (on the Great North Road) which suggests a 17th or 18th century foundation. The Chequers was certainly in existence in 1807 when it was the scene of a tragedy typical of the harsh penal laws of those days. The story is told in the famous diary of John Carrington of Bacons Farm, Bramfield. The diary entry for 4 June 1807 reads (I have kept Carrington's idiosyncratic grammer and spelling):
"To London on Dunn poney to present a Pittition for Mrs Pellom of Woolmergreen at Checkers their, now in Hartford Geoal under Sentance of 14 years Transportation for buiing 2 Silver tea Spoons [knowing them to be stolen]_ _ Judge Heath_ _sent us to Ld Hauksburys, the Secretaris of Stats office the Treasury for the home Department_ _Delivrd my Pittition to one Mr Copper their, Clerke of the office at the Treasury, was Recved very kindly & he promised to Give it to Ld Hauksbury & his Majesty. Then to Mr Horsmans Sallopin Coffhouse _ _ _"
Who this coffee house owner "Mr Horsman" was I do not know, but generally it seems a good effort by the eighty-one year old Carrington to be taking a petition to the Home Secretary (effectively, though under a different title, what Lord Hawkesbury was). Carrington clearly thought fourteen years transportation a vicious punishment. Did the petition help Mrs Pellom? I don't know, but on December 6 she was still in Hertford gaol and Carrington was still trying to get the local gentry to help her. Things went better for Lord Hawkesbury, as they usually do for people at the top. Under his later title of Lord Liverpool he was Prime Minister from 1812 to 1827, longer than anyone since, even Mrs Thatcher.
Anyway, the Chequers is currently a nice pub with a cage of chipmunks in the garden (an unusual touch), and an admirable attitude towards charities. (While we were there the landlady was in negotiation over the phone about a big charity ride for the Air Ambulance to be organised from the Chequers in July. Six of our wives rode in another charity ride for the Isabel Hospice from the Chequers the Sunday after our visit.) Also, the pub's award winning pies were excellent!
COMMENT: The Chequers is a really old pub name, probably brought to Britain by the Romans nearly 2,000 years ago. Evidence from Pompeii suggests it was already in use there (before 79AD) perhaps referring to a game such as draughts played on the premises. In Britain it was associated with a money table, hence the word "exchequer". Some inns used the sign to indicate that they were willing to change money or act as bankers in some way.
There isn't much information about the origins of the Chequers at Woolmer Green, but the website says it was a coaching inn (on the Great North Road) which suggests a 17th or 18th century foundation. The Chequers was certainly in existence in 1807 when it was the scene of a tragedy typical of the harsh penal laws of those days. The story is told in the famous diary of John Carrington of Bacons Farm, Bramfield. The diary entry for 4 June 1807 reads (I have kept Carrington's idiosyncratic grammer and spelling):
"To London on Dunn poney to present a Pittition for Mrs Pellom of Woolmergreen at Checkers their, now in Hartford Geoal under Sentance of 14 years Transportation for buiing 2 Silver tea Spoons [knowing them to be stolen]_ _ Judge Heath_ _sent us to Ld Hauksburys, the Secretaris of Stats office the Treasury for the home Department_ _Delivrd my Pittition to one Mr Copper their, Clerke of the office at the Treasury, was Recved very kindly & he promised to Give it to Ld Hauksbury & his Majesty. Then to Mr Horsmans Sallopin Coffhouse _ _ _"
Who this coffee house owner "Mr Horsman" was I do not know, but generally it seems a good effort by the eighty-one year old Carrington to be taking a petition to the Home Secretary (effectively, though under a different title, what Lord Hawkesbury was). Carrington clearly thought fourteen years transportation a vicious punishment. Did the petition help Mrs Pellom? I don't know, but on December 6 she was still in Hertford gaol and Carrington was still trying to get the local gentry to help her. Things went better for Lord Hawkesbury, as they usually do for people at the top. Under his later title of Lord Liverpool he was Prime Minister from 1812 to 1827, longer than anyone since, even Mrs Thatcher.
Anyway, the Chequers is currently a nice pub with a cage of chipmunks in the garden (an unusual touch), and an admirable attitude towards charities. (While we were there the landlady was in negotiation over the phone about a big charity ride for the Air Ambulance to be organised from the Chequers in July. Six of our wives rode in another charity ride for the Isabel Hospice from the Chequers the Sunday after our visit.) Also, the pub's award winning pies were excellent!
Thursday, 28 April 2011
Pub Odyssey 17
Tuesday 26 April: WHITE HORSE, BURNHAM GREEN (Chris Haden, Mike Horsman, Gerry Murphy, Bob Polydorou, Steve Stott, Andrew Swift)
COMMENT: This pub has one of the best views in Hertfordshire from its garden but after a week of high summer-like temperatures it was bloody freezing on arrival and we stayed indoors. Food was OK, I thought the McMullen's Country bitter very nice.
This is a pub with a chequered recent history. When Steve Stott arrived in the village in 1972 it was a small teeming boozer. When I arrived in 1990 Richard had taken it over, it had been extended considerably and made probably the most vibrant and attractive dining pub in the area. When Richard moved on to Coltsfoot and sold the White Horse the pub seemed to be rather amatuerishly managed by the new owners with limited success till 2001 when it burned down in a disastrous fire. Now it is owned by McMullens and I would say is a pretty middle of the road dining pub- perfectly fine, but not standing out from half a dozen similar in Tewin, Datchworth, Bramfield, Bulls Green etc.
Unlike most of our earlier pubs, no-one very interesting seems to have been connected with the White Horse- no Keith Moon or Lady Caroline Lamb or Charles Dickens I regret to say. A rather strange website called "lutonparanormal.com" says that when the pub was opened in 1806 it was named after a local legend concerning a farmer and his white horse both beheaded by roundheads in the Civil War. I personally consider this suggestion horsefeathers (white or otherwise) not least because the White Horse has a history dating back around 300 years which therefore takes it back much further than 1806.
COMMENT: This pub has one of the best views in Hertfordshire from its garden but after a week of high summer-like temperatures it was bloody freezing on arrival and we stayed indoors. Food was OK, I thought the McMullen's Country bitter very nice.
This is a pub with a chequered recent history. When Steve Stott arrived in the village in 1972 it was a small teeming boozer. When I arrived in 1990 Richard had taken it over, it had been extended considerably and made probably the most vibrant and attractive dining pub in the area. When Richard moved on to Coltsfoot and sold the White Horse the pub seemed to be rather amatuerishly managed by the new owners with limited success till 2001 when it burned down in a disastrous fire. Now it is owned by McMullens and I would say is a pretty middle of the road dining pub- perfectly fine, but not standing out from half a dozen similar in Tewin, Datchworth, Bramfield, Bulls Green etc.
Unlike most of our earlier pubs, no-one very interesting seems to have been connected with the White Horse- no Keith Moon or Lady Caroline Lamb or Charles Dickens I regret to say. A rather strange website called "lutonparanormal.com" says that when the pub was opened in 1806 it was named after a local legend concerning a farmer and his white horse both beheaded by roundheads in the Civil War. I personally consider this suggestion horsefeathers (white or otherwise) not least because the White Horse has a history dating back around 300 years which therefore takes it back much further than 1806.
Wednesday, 20 April 2011
Pub Odyssey 16
Tuesday 19 April: RED LION, HATFIELD: Chris Haden, Mike Horsman, Elvis Pile, Bob Polydorou, Jeff Tipper, John Westwood.
COMMENT: In the third week of April we sat ouside in the pub garden in our shirtsleeves (and in the case of the cyclist, in his shorts) enjoyning the brilliant sunshine, more like high summer than Spring. With Jeff Tipper having just four days left at work, we collectively resemble ever more closely a day outing from a retirement home, though some of the details don't fit, eg the lack of Zimmer frames and the willingness/ability to walk/cycle long distances at home and abroad.
The "Red Lion" is the most common pub name in Britain but the Red Lion in Hatfield stands out from all the others because it was outside this pub that the craziest man in rock and roll, Keith Moon, drummer of The Who, killed his friend, driver and bodyguard Neil Boland.
On 4 January 1970, "Moon the Loon", drunk as usual, was trying outside the Red Lion to escape hostile patrons of the pub who had begun to attack his Bentley. Moon attempted to take control of his car which in the melee ran over and killed Boland. There is some doubt whether Moon was actually behind the wheel and the coroner in any event declared the incident an accident, Moon getting an absolute discharge having been charged with driving offences. But it appears the incident haunted Moon for the rest of his short life. He died of gross drug and alcohol abuse in London on 7 September 1978, aged 32. He was undoubtedly one of the greatest of rock drummers but is probably better remembered for the smashed up hotels, dynamited toilets, physically attacked girlfriends, and passings out on stage which punctuated his career.
Why is the "Red Lion" such a common pub name? (There are over 600 of them round the country.) The red lion is actually the red lion of Scotland which James VI of Scotland ordered should be displayed in public places when, in 1603, he also became King James I of England. The public places included a great many pubs. The Hatfield Red Lion provided decent food and drink and was rather attractively refurbished inside but it was the sunshine which provided the high point as we looked from the garden to the ex-car park, now sold off for another building, where Keith Moon and Neil Boland had their tragic encounter..
COMMENT: In the third week of April we sat ouside in the pub garden in our shirtsleeves (and in the case of the cyclist, in his shorts) enjoyning the brilliant sunshine, more like high summer than Spring. With Jeff Tipper having just four days left at work, we collectively resemble ever more closely a day outing from a retirement home, though some of the details don't fit, eg the lack of Zimmer frames and the willingness/ability to walk/cycle long distances at home and abroad.
The "Red Lion" is the most common pub name in Britain but the Red Lion in Hatfield stands out from all the others because it was outside this pub that the craziest man in rock and roll, Keith Moon, drummer of The Who, killed his friend, driver and bodyguard Neil Boland.
On 4 January 1970, "Moon the Loon", drunk as usual, was trying outside the Red Lion to escape hostile patrons of the pub who had begun to attack his Bentley. Moon attempted to take control of his car which in the melee ran over and killed Boland. There is some doubt whether Moon was actually behind the wheel and the coroner in any event declared the incident an accident, Moon getting an absolute discharge having been charged with driving offences. But it appears the incident haunted Moon for the rest of his short life. He died of gross drug and alcohol abuse in London on 7 September 1978, aged 32. He was undoubtedly one of the greatest of rock drummers but is probably better remembered for the smashed up hotels, dynamited toilets, physically attacked girlfriends, and passings out on stage which punctuated his career.
Why is the "Red Lion" such a common pub name? (There are over 600 of them round the country.) The red lion is actually the red lion of Scotland which James VI of Scotland ordered should be displayed in public places when, in 1603, he also became King James I of England. The public places included a great many pubs. The Hatfield Red Lion provided decent food and drink and was rather attractively refurbished inside but it was the sunshine which provided the high point as we looked from the garden to the ex-car park, now sold off for another building, where Keith Moon and Neil Boland had their tragic encounter..
Tuesday, 12 April 2011
Pub Odyssey 15
Tuesday 12 April: WHITE HORSE, HERTFORD (Chris Haden, Mike Horsman, Elvis Pile- welcome back Elvis- Bob Polydorou, Andrew Swift, John Westwood).
COMMENT: probably the oldest pub yet visited, as the Fullers website says it goes back to the 14th century. As all properly educated persons know, this was the century in which the Scots stuffed the English (Bannockburn 1314, the most important date in European history), and in which the Black Death reduced the population of the world by one-third (1348-50). But in these dark days there was a bright side, they opened the White Horse.
Going inside the White Horse it does feel really old and not well suited for people over 5ft 10 inches. Not difficult to believe that our ancestors were shorter! Andrew needed to watch his head, and although it's a shame that David Room couldn't make it the White Horse couldn't be described as ideal territory for him either. Otherwise it was good, with nine real beers, decent food and friendly service though I nearly leapt to the low ceiling from a sitting start when the fire alarm went off as our food was being cooked!
Possibly the conversation was a shade vulgar. There was a good deal about the sexual outlook of teenagers, particularly teenagers from Essex (some of us are spending too much time in front of reality TV) plus more information about the Crazy Sexy Club of Frankfurt than was probably good for us. I saw a party of elderly people come into the pub for lunch and felt perhaps we should be toning the conversation down a bit; but when I went past them to get to the loo, I realised that at average age about 64 we were older than they were!
However, my big Pub Odyssey moment this week came when researching stuff about Charles Dickens and pubs (see Pub Odyssey 14). Imagine my delight when I saw in his novel "Martin Chuzzlewit" how Mrs Gamp, the drunken midwife, drank a pint of the "celebrated staggering ale, or Real Old Brighton Tipper, at supper". The Thomas Tipper brewery of Sussex produced ale where if anyone drank three pints "may the powers that are above preserve him". Sadly, the Tipper brewery closed in 1911. Any relation Jeff?
COMMENT: probably the oldest pub yet visited, as the Fullers website says it goes back to the 14th century. As all properly educated persons know, this was the century in which the Scots stuffed the English (Bannockburn 1314, the most important date in European history), and in which the Black Death reduced the population of the world by one-third (1348-50). But in these dark days there was a bright side, they opened the White Horse.
Going inside the White Horse it does feel really old and not well suited for people over 5ft 10 inches. Not difficult to believe that our ancestors were shorter! Andrew needed to watch his head, and although it's a shame that David Room couldn't make it the White Horse couldn't be described as ideal territory for him either. Otherwise it was good, with nine real beers, decent food and friendly service though I nearly leapt to the low ceiling from a sitting start when the fire alarm went off as our food was being cooked!
Possibly the conversation was a shade vulgar. There was a good deal about the sexual outlook of teenagers, particularly teenagers from Essex (some of us are spending too much time in front of reality TV) plus more information about the Crazy Sexy Club of Frankfurt than was probably good for us. I saw a party of elderly people come into the pub for lunch and felt perhaps we should be toning the conversation down a bit; but when I went past them to get to the loo, I realised that at average age about 64 we were older than they were!
However, my big Pub Odyssey moment this week came when researching stuff about Charles Dickens and pubs (see Pub Odyssey 14). Imagine my delight when I saw in his novel "Martin Chuzzlewit" how Mrs Gamp, the drunken midwife, drank a pint of the "celebrated staggering ale, or Real Old Brighton Tipper, at supper". The Thomas Tipper brewery of Sussex produced ale where if anyone drank three pints "may the powers that are above preserve him". Sadly, the Tipper brewery closed in 1911. Any relation Jeff?
Thursday, 7 April 2011
Pub Odyssey 14
Tuesday 5 April: OUR MUTUAL FRIEND, Broadwater Crescent, Stevenage ( Malcolm Allen, Mike Horsman, Gerry Murphy, Bob Polydorou, Andrew Swift)
COMMENT: This is a pub much beloved of the local CAMRA branch, and I thought it encapsulated quite neatly the strengths and weaknesses of the CAMRA approach. On the plus side, the beer was excellent and I quite liked the decor and the Dickens memorabilia scattered about. On the minus side, the food options were very limited and if like Malcolm you are a vegetarian a cheese sandwich is what you get- and all you get. I wasn't too thrilled by the service either. Twice I approached the bar to make an order and the bar staff, engaged on something else (though the pub wasn't that busy) walked away. Good beer is critically important, and I am very grateful for what CAMRA has done and continues to do on that front, but OMF is the sort of place that tends to confirm the suspicion that in assessing pubs CAMRA consider there own obsessions rather than more general attractiveness.
Be that as it may, I did enjoy our visit, the company as always being excellent and the pub an interesting place in unusual ways. From the exterior it lacks all architectural charm, looking what it is, a basic almost prefab construction to service a post-war housing estate. But what it actually represents is the power of a man's name and reputation. The man is Charles Dickens (1812-70), the greatest of all English novelists and the greatest writer of any form of English after Shakespeare. Dickens was a man of London and Kent, but he had a local presence; he was a friend of Lord Lytton of Knebworth, another successful Victorian novelist- in fact Dickens gave readings of his novels at Knebworth House. When Lord Lytton decided to set up a pub in Broadwater (a fine late Victorian building, long since gone but pictured on the walls in the current pub) he had it named after the last completed novel of his friend Charles Dickens. In addition Dickens himself, always a generous and open-handed man, set up at some stage near there a sort of superior almshouse for journalists and writers fallen on hard times. Lord Lytton's pub and the almshouse are long gone, but when a new pub was created on the new housing estate Dickens' name still had the power for the pub to be called "Our Mutual Friend".
Although it seems to have been Dickens' general fame and local activities which led to all this, he did in fact love pubs. Dickens (like Shakespeare too) was fascinated by English inns, taverns and pubs, their drink, food and culture. He wrote endlessly about all these things; it has been calculated that 166 public houses of all types from grand to extremely seedy appear in his writings, some inventions of his imagination but many of them real places- we will meet at least two later on in the Odyssey.
COMMENT: This is a pub much beloved of the local CAMRA branch, and I thought it encapsulated quite neatly the strengths and weaknesses of the CAMRA approach. On the plus side, the beer was excellent and I quite liked the decor and the Dickens memorabilia scattered about. On the minus side, the food options were very limited and if like Malcolm you are a vegetarian a cheese sandwich is what you get- and all you get. I wasn't too thrilled by the service either. Twice I approached the bar to make an order and the bar staff, engaged on something else (though the pub wasn't that busy) walked away. Good beer is critically important, and I am very grateful for what CAMRA has done and continues to do on that front, but OMF is the sort of place that tends to confirm the suspicion that in assessing pubs CAMRA consider there own obsessions rather than more general attractiveness.
Be that as it may, I did enjoy our visit, the company as always being excellent and the pub an interesting place in unusual ways. From the exterior it lacks all architectural charm, looking what it is, a basic almost prefab construction to service a post-war housing estate. But what it actually represents is the power of a man's name and reputation. The man is Charles Dickens (1812-70), the greatest of all English novelists and the greatest writer of any form of English after Shakespeare. Dickens was a man of London and Kent, but he had a local presence; he was a friend of Lord Lytton of Knebworth, another successful Victorian novelist- in fact Dickens gave readings of his novels at Knebworth House. When Lord Lytton decided to set up a pub in Broadwater (a fine late Victorian building, long since gone but pictured on the walls in the current pub) he had it named after the last completed novel of his friend Charles Dickens. In addition Dickens himself, always a generous and open-handed man, set up at some stage near there a sort of superior almshouse for journalists and writers fallen on hard times. Lord Lytton's pub and the almshouse are long gone, but when a new pub was created on the new housing estate Dickens' name still had the power for the pub to be called "Our Mutual Friend".
Although it seems to have been Dickens' general fame and local activities which led to all this, he did in fact love pubs. Dickens (like Shakespeare too) was fascinated by English inns, taverns and pubs, their drink, food and culture. He wrote endlessly about all these things; it has been calculated that 166 public houses of all types from grand to extremely seedy appear in his writings, some inventions of his imagination but many of them real places- we will meet at least two later on in the Odyssey.
Pub Odyssey 13
Tuesday 29 March: THE HORNS, Bulls Green (Chris Haden, Gerry Murphy, Bob Polydorou, Andrew Swift, Roger Toms)
COMMENT: I missed this one, walking the Thames Path with Anne (lots of nice pubs on that too). The Horns is a really ancient pub, probably the oldest we have yet been to. It's dated to 1543 (roughly the same age as the George and Dragon, Watton) but details of construction of the building suggest it is 100 years older than that. It is relatively upmarket now, but for much of its long life seems to have been the lowest form of pub life, far below inns and taverns, a simple beer house serving the hamlet of Bulls Green. Like many such, it also doubled, or trebled or quadrupled, as an auction room, traders meeting and bargaining post, livery stables, farmhouse. Its basic nature is suggested by the fact that as recently as the 1920s there was a hayloft over the main bar, and until the introduction of piped water to the parish in 1915 most of the water used daily would have come from the nearby moat (the last remnant of which is the small pond opposite). In such grim and often unhealthy suroundings our rural ancestors lived their lives and took their pleasure. The Horns is a pleasant place now where our team enjoyed their food (getting in just ahead of a big crowd of punters, always a pleasure to see); a hundred years ago it might have been a somewhat different story.
COMMENT: I missed this one, walking the Thames Path with Anne (lots of nice pubs on that too). The Horns is a really ancient pub, probably the oldest we have yet been to. It's dated to 1543 (roughly the same age as the George and Dragon, Watton) but details of construction of the building suggest it is 100 years older than that. It is relatively upmarket now, but for much of its long life seems to have been the lowest form of pub life, far below inns and taverns, a simple beer house serving the hamlet of Bulls Green. Like many such, it also doubled, or trebled or quadrupled, as an auction room, traders meeting and bargaining post, livery stables, farmhouse. Its basic nature is suggested by the fact that as recently as the 1920s there was a hayloft over the main bar, and until the introduction of piped water to the parish in 1915 most of the water used daily would have come from the nearby moat (the last remnant of which is the small pond opposite). In such grim and often unhealthy suroundings our rural ancestors lived their lives and took their pleasure. The Horns is a pleasant place now where our team enjoyed their food (getting in just ahead of a big crowd of punters, always a pleasure to see); a hundred years ago it might have been a somewhat different story.
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