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WRITER, CONSULTANT AND BROADCASTER SPECIALISING IN BEER, PUBS AND CIDER. BEER WRITER OF THE YEAR 2009 AND 2012

What's new?

What's new?
More new events added in Bristol, London and Edinburgh over April and May
I had a big piece in the Guardian this week about why publicans are unhappy
Click here to hear me talking about craft beer on this week's radio 4 Food Programme!
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Tuesday, 30 October 2012

Dickens, Chaucer, Scoundrels, Scallywags, Sugababes and a lock-in involving Princess Margaret: the astonishing history of one legendary pub.


Here's the official press release for my new book, out next week.  At the bottom is a list of talks and readings I'm giving over the next six weeks or so. Amazon is already shipping the book.  It's also available on Kindle, but you miss out on some seriously beautiful design work - just ask the first reviewer...

Dickens, Chaucer, Scoundrels, Scallywags, Sugababes and a lock-in involving Princess Margaret: the astonishing history of one legendary pub.


Pete Brown, author of three best-selling social histories based around beer, returns to the pub with his latest book Shakespeare's Local, which hits the shelves on 8th November. It has also been selected as BBC Radio 4’s Book of the Week in the week before Christmas, guaranteeing its place in the stockings of book-lovers around the country.
Shakespeare’s Local: Six Centuries of History Seen Through One Extraordinary Pub is the story of the George Inn, Southwark, the last surviving galleried coaching inn in London.  It reveals how the pub, as well as playing a key role in the development of Elizabethan theatre, was also close to the birth of English literature (Geoffrey Chaucer's Tabard stood just next door) and has its own dubious poetic claim, having been immortalised by the leading (possibly only) exponent of Stuart-era Fart Poetry.  The George also counted Charles Dickens among its many fans.
"At a time when pubs are getting shafted from all sides, I wanted to write a perfect case study of how important pubs have been throughout our history," says Brown.  "This was helped by the fundamental truth that a good boozer always has a few interesting characters propping up the bar.  Take a look at five or six hundred years in the history of one pub, and the characters you discover pretty much do the job for you."
However, it’s a small miracle the book got finished at all. In a stroke of supreme irony, Brown was nine months into the project, with 25,000 words written (but not backed up) on his laptop when it got stolen – in his local pub.  "I had to start again from scratch with four months left before my deadline," says Brown. "People ask me if having to rewrite every word to that point has made it a better book.  Being chosen as Book of the Week suggests it has, but I still wouldn't recommend leaving your laptop unattended in a busy pub for four hours as a technique for any aspiring writer."


About the book
Sit down for a pint with Chaucer, Shakespeare and Dickens in the most extraordinary pub in British history with ‘the beer drinkers’ Bill Bryson’. 
Welcome to the George Inn near London Bridge; a cosy, wood-panelled, galleried coaching house a few minutes' walk from the Thames. And consider this: who else has stopped to drink, gossip, do business and relax here over the last 600 years?
Chaucer and his fellow pilgrims probably drank in the George on their way out of London to Canterbury. Shakespeare will have popped in from the nearby Globe for a pint, and Dickens was a regular. Mail carriers changed their horses here, before heading to all four corners of Britain -- while sailors drank here before visiting all four corners of the world...
The pub is the ‘primordial cell of British life’ and The George is the perfect case study. This pub has seen it all, from murderers, highwaymen and ladies of the night to gossiping pedlars and hard-working clerks. Pete Brown takes us on a revealing historical tour as buildings and the capital’s fortunes rise and fall around this one extraordinary local and its colourful cast of regulars.

About the author
Pete Brown is an influential drinks writer and commentator, with columns for London Loves Business, the Publican’s Morning Advertiser and Just-Drinks.com. In 2009 Pete was named Beer Writer of the Year by the British Guild of Beer Writers.  He has recently been a judge for the BBC Food & Farming Awards and the Great Taste Awards, and this year has appeared on a number of high profile radio and TV programmes including Great Train Journeys with Michael Portillo, Radio 4’s Food Programme, Sky News and BBC4’s Timeshift. He’s the author of Man Walks into a Pub: A Sociable History of Beer; Three Sheets to the Wind and Hops and Glory, which saw him dubbed ‘The Beer Drinker’s Bill Bryson’ by both the TLS and The Independent.  Pete’s award-winning blog is at http://petebrown.blogspot.com.


For further information please contact Dusty Miller on 020 7014 6188 or email d.miller@macmillan.co.uk




Tour dates confirmed so far: more to follow

Monday 5th November - Windsor & Eton Brewery
As part of the Thames Valley History Festival, in association with Waterstone's, we're doing an event in this excellent brewery, which I'm sure will be offering some of their brilliant ales and lagers to taste.  
7.30pm. Tickets £6

Tuesday 6th November - Stoke Newington Bookshop
My N16 launch at my local bookshop.  Hope to see the crowd from the Jolly Butchers and White Hart at this one!  There may be beer.  And we'll carry on afterwards in a local hostelry.
6.30pm.  Free admission.

Sunday 11th November - The Free Trade Inn, Newcastle
A late Sunday afternoon gathering in one of Newcastle's best pubs.
Final details TBC

Monday 12th November - The Rat Inn, Anick
A chat in this beautiful pub near Hexham, Northumberland, with New Writing North.
7pm. £5, fully redeemable against book purchase.

Tuesday 13th November - The Portico Library, Manchester
In association with the Urmston Bookshop, I'm told this is a stunning venue.  And I love Manchester.
6.30pm. Tickets £7 

Wednesday 14th November - Caught by the River at Rough Trade East
I love Caught by the River and everything they stand for.  Ditto Rough Trade East.  Thrilled to be doing an event with them in this amazing music shop just off Brick Lane.
7pm. Free admission

Thursday 15th November - Big Green Bookshop
Delighted to be finally doing an event with one of London's coolest independent bookshops.
Final details TBC.

Wednesday 21st November - Richmond Literary Festival
An event in a beer shop.  And not just any beer shop - realeale.com's HQ is beer paradise.  Very proud to be doing this as part of the Richmond Literary Festival.
7.30pm. £10 (includes beer tasting)

Thursday 22nd November - Exmouth Arms with Clerkenwell Tales
Another great pub in conjunction with another wonderful, inspiring independent bookshop.  
Final details TBC

Monday 26th November - Institute of Historical Research, Senate House, University of London 
Proud to be asked to be part of a series of lecture's on people's history.  I think mine may be a little more frivolous than some of the others.
5.30pm.  Free admission

Thursday 29th November - Literary Death Match!
This is not a normal reading.  This is authors fighting to the death.  Literally!  Well, literarily.
Final details TBC

Tuesday 4th December - The George!
And finally, I bring the book home.  This one will be special - talking about the book inside the pub itself, with a somewhat Dickensian Christmassy theme
Free admission on the door

Wednesday 12th December - Romford Library
Only just confirmed so no details as yet, but this library is passionate about author events and has hosted some great people - more info asap.
£3.

Sunday, 21 October 2012

'Shakespeare's Local' and the Austrian Tyrant - preview and extended scene from my new book.

It's just two and a half weeks now till my new book, Shakespeare's Local, hits the shelves.

Officially out on 8 November, you might get it a few days earlier if you pre-order on Amazon.
It came back from the printers yesterday and I'm very excited.  Whatever you think of the writing, it's a beautiful object, with wonderfully reproduced maps and plans, some of which I'll post here soon.

I'm also overwhelmed that BBC Radio 4 has chosen the book to be Book of the Week for week commencing 17th December.  The week before Christmas, there'll be an abridged 15-minute reading from the book each day of the week.  For a book that we all hope will make a nice gift, it couldn't be better timing.  I'm waiting to hear who will be doing the reading!

I'm lining up more dates when I'll be reading it at various events around the UK.  Additional ones will be announced shortly.  In Ilkley a couple of weeks ago I debuted an illustrated, scripted hour-long talk about the pub and the book, which seemed to go down very well, and I'm looking forward to polishing and refining this over the next few weeks.

The only problem with the talk is I need it to be 45 minutes long and I got cut off, nowhere near the end, after an hour.  This is a common problem for me: I overwrite.  My two previous books were 50% too long.  The first time I tried to cut words out of Hops & Glory, I actually managed to increase the word count by 5000.

I wasn't nearly as bad with Shakespeare's Local - five opinion columns a month for the last couple of years has taught me to write to length much better, but there were still a few flabby bits.  And while this is a book that is based on the principle of pub-style conversational digression, some of these digression, while interesting, were taking us too far away from the main thread for too long.

To whet your appetite for the book, I wanted to post one of those here.  The George Inn, the subject of Shakespeare's Local, was for much of its existence within spitting distance of the famous Anchor Brewery, and in my first draft I ended up writing a detailed history of that brewery, most of which has rightly been edited out of the finished book.

My favourite story from this history is about what happened when a murderous authoritarian bastard turned up for a brewery tour and got more than he bargained for from the good people of Southwark.  This story is still in the book, but it was originally about twice the length, so in the hopes of whetting your appetite, here's the full length version.

A bit of background: the Anchor brewery, now better known as Barclay Perkins, was so vast and successful that it had become one of the most famous breweries in the world.  It was a tourist attraction regularly visited by heads of state - among others...



By 1810 the Anchor Brewery was churning out a whopping 235,000 barrels a year.  Victorian authors couldn’t resist pouring the brewery’s celebrated porter into their books. There are many references to Barclay's beer in the novels of Charles Dickens, for example: In The Old Curiosity Shop Dick Swiveller claimed that there was ‘a spell in every drop against the ills of mortality’, and in David Copperfield Mr Micawber had a job at the brewery in mind when he was ‘waiting for something to turn up.’

Although heavily damaged by fire in 1832, the brewery was impressively rebuilt and thereafter became a notable London tourist attraction.  Dr William Rendle commented: ‘Except perhaps the very centres of government and trade, no spot in London might so worthily excite feelings of curiosity and wonder as these few acres.’  Nineteenth century visitors included the Prince of Wales (the future Edward VII), Napoleon III, and Otto von Bismarck.  But in 1850, one visitor was given a reception that fell somewhat short of traditional British hospitality. 

In 1848, political revolution swept through Europe as people started demanding troublesome things like democracy, basic human rights, and freedom from tyranny.  One such revolution happened in Hungary, where the populace rose up and demanded independence from Austrian rule.  They almost achieved it until Austria called in Russia’s help, quashed the uprising and received the formal surrender of Hungary’s thirteen top generals, who were then executed by the Austrian Marshal Haynau.[1]  Haynau hated the revolutionary cause, so he had no problem with overriding the conventions of war and butchering officers who had surrendered in good faith.  He went on to hang well over a hundred people, despite orders to show leniency from his superiors and outrage from the international community. Neither did Haynau have a problem with flogging women: he brutally put down an uprising in the Lombard city of Brescia, leaving maimed and wounded men lying in the streets.  He ordered that any women going to the aid of the wounded should be whipped.  Even his own army hated him.  A former commander of his wrote that Haynau ‘knows the rules of military service but seeks glory in sharpening those rules so that he could proceed against men he doesn’t like.  These men he torments with calculating hatred… Because of his moral failings everybody in contact with him wishes to see him go, for no one likes to be in his company on military service.’

Bastard.
When the army finally succeeded in getting rid of Haynau, he decided to do a bit of travelling.  This was to prove a bad idea for possibly the most hated man in Europe.  After narrowly avoiding being lynched when he was recognised in Brussels, he came to England and on 4th September 1850, paid a visit to Barclay Perkins with an aide de camp and a translator. 

Accounts about what exactly happened next are mixed and conflicting.  An eyewitness account in the London Daily News the next morning said that ‘a rather unusual crowd’ had gathered outside the brewery gates, because word had spread that Haynau was inside.  When he emerged, after being ‘entertained with surprising forbearance by those who task it was to receive his visit’, he was greeted by a chorus of boos and hisses from the assembled crowd.  ‘The gallant woman flogger looked about him in evident surprise,’ writes our correspondent, ‘forgetting probably that he is now in a land which, with all its faults, bestows on its citizens the privilege of free thoughts and speech, and teaches them to denounce the tyrannies of a butcher like Haynau.’  When the writer left the scene, the marshal was being followed down the street by the mob and he eventually took refuge in a stable yard.   

But directly below this is another account ‘from other sources’, which is far more sensationalist and dramatic.  Perhaps inevitably, it is this unattributed account that was picked up and repeated word for word by newspapers across the country the following day.

According to this source, the three visitors arrived, one of them sporting very long moustaches, and signed the visitors’ book before being escorted across the yard for the start of the tour.  The brewery clerks looked at the book, and saw that the fellow with the long ‘tache was none other than Marshal Haynau.  Word spread around the brewery in less than two minutes, and ‘before the general and his companions had crossed the yard nearly all the labourers and draymen ran out with brooms and dirt, shouting out “Down with the Austrian butcher,” and other epithets of rather an alarming nature to the marshal.’  The men gathered around him as he was inspecting the mash tun, continuing to hurl abuse.  And when one man dropped a bale of straw on his head, this acted as a signal for a more physical attack.  Haynau was flogged with brooms so hard that one broke across his back.  His clothes were torn from him.  His companions ‘defended themselves manfully’, but the brave marshal fled, only to find that the aforementioned mob had gathered in the street outside.  They surrounded him and dragged him down the street by the moustache.  A woman threw a pair of scissors out a window to cut off his famous whiskers.  He tried hiding in a dustbin, but was dragged out of it by the beard.  He was pelted and struck ‘with every available missile’.  And worst of all, some cad ‘struck his hat over his eyes’.  Finally, he managed to run and hide… in the George.

Imagine my surprise and delight, dear reader, upon discovering that the George Inn had a starring role in this caper.  Imagine my incredulity that no previous chronicler of the old inn had placed this account front and centre in their work.  And imagine my inconsolable grief when I read: ‘He ran in a frantic manner along Bankside until he came to the George public-house where finding the doors open he rushed in and proceeded upstairs into one of the bedrooms, to the utter astonishment of Mrs Benfield, the landlady’. 

The George Inn isn’t on Bankside (though if you Google ‘George Inn Bankside’ you do get our George).  And the George Inn never had a landlady called Mrs Benfield.  But census data from 1851 shows Mr and Mrs Benfield running the George public house on Bankside. 

There was another George in Borough.  Right next to the Anchor on Bankside. 

And it was in this George that the ‘Hyena of Brescia’, the ‘Hangman of Arad’, frightened Mrs Benfield (“I thought he was a madman”), asked Mr Benfield for a brandy via his translator (“I’ll be damned if he have any brandy here!”) and cowered in a bedroom until Inspector Squires of the Southwark police came to rescue him, borrowed one of Mr Benfield’s old hats in a lame attempt to disguise him, and rowed him across the Thames in a police boat to the safety of Somerset House, jeered by the crowds on Bankside.

How the Illustrated London News covered the brave Marshal's retreat.
The public flogging of the Austrian Butcher instantly became both an international incident and a touchstone for the emerging class warfare of the Victorian era.  The Austrian ambassador demanded an apology.  The Foreign Secretary, Lord Palmerston, refused, defending the brewery men whom he felt ‘were just expressing their feelings at what they considered inhuman conduct by a man who was looked upon as a great moral criminal.’  Only after the intervention of a furious Queen Victoria was a more conciliatory letter sent, but the Austrians remained so offended that they sent no representative to the Duke of Wellington’s funeral in 1852.

The day after breaking the story, the editorial in the Daily News read:
We rejoice that he escaped without serious injury, but we do also sincerely rejoice that such a manifestation of British feeling, so honest, so popular, and so spontaneous, as well as so energetic, goes forth to the world of Europe to mark in what estimation the deeds of Austria in Hungary are regarded by the intelligent of our industrious classes.

The Morning Post, however, took another view.  ‘There can be but one feeling in the breast of every Englishman worthy the name, as to the outrage perpetrated on the Baron the other day at the brewery of Messrs Barclay and Perkins,’ it thundered.  The mob that accosted him on the street was ‘reinforced by the all the choicest specimens of the rascalry of the Borough’, who shouted things to the poor man ‘which are wont to garnish the conversation of low Liberals.’  Yes, the whole thing was a left-wing plot, because ‘British Liberalism is determined, as far as it can, to divest Great Britain of its long-standing reputation for hospitality.’  The paper expressed its hope that that nice Mr Haynau wouldn’t judge us all by the standards of those ‘dastardly ruffians who assaulted him in the Borough’.

The Times also expressed the view that the whole thing must have been a leftist conspiracy.  Why, we were talking about stupid brewery workers, the thick working classes.  Ignoring the steady rise of both the international workers’ movement and the tales of woe told by terrorised Hungarian refugees who, like all refugees, had settled safely in Southwark, the Times believed that these people were too stupid and ignorant to have even known who the Marshal was without the sinister organising influence of ‘foreigners’ – a euphemism at the time for socialists.

The Standard pointed out that Haynau’s greatest injury was to his pride.  He escaped the flogging with no serious physical injuries, despite being dragged through the street.  If the crowd had meant him serious harm, as the right-wing press claimed, they ‘had the opportunity of inflicting serious injury, and they that they did not inflict any such injury, is proof that they designed none.’

A week later, a public meeting of the ‘National Democrats’ was held at Farringdon Hall, for the purpose of celebrating ‘the noble conduct of the workmen employed at Barclay and Perkins brewery, in having given expression to the feeling of detestation felt towards the assassin and woman-flogger, Haynau, by all true Englishmen’.

Hundreds were turned away because the room was so crowded, and there were even ‘a sprinkling of women present’. The Italian Marsellaise was sung by some Hungarian refugees. Messages of solidarity were received from as far afield as Paris and New York.  At one point, the crowd was addressed by Friedrich ‘Citizen’ Engels, a man delightfully described in the report of the meeting as ‘one who has fought for freedom in many lands, and wore a long beard’.

Fourteen years later, when the Italian national hero Giuseppe Garibaldi visited England, he insisted on going to Barclay Perkins to thank personally ‘the men who flogged Haynau’. 

Even the lovely Dr William Rendle, a man so kind-hearted he hardly killed anyone in all his years as a surgeon, remember, said it was ‘a cruel punishment no doubt,’ but that it was also the perfect example of the term vox Populi, vox Dei.  ‘Moral homeopathy’, the ‘cure of cruelty by cruelty, or more mildly, that which is know as poetical justice, administered by a mob’. 

A plaque marking the incident stands in Park Street on the site of the Anchor Brewery.





[1] If you’re ever drinking in Hungary (which I can heartily recommend) never try to clink glasses with the locals – it’s a social faux pas.  As the Hungarian generals were being murdered on Haynau’s orders, the Austrian officers were allegedly drinking beer and toasting each other by clinking their mugs together.  Hungarians declared that they would therefore never clink their own glasses together again.