Nothing is more English than the village pub, except perhaps a game of cricket. To have the pub facing the cricket field is sheer heaven, although if its wall provides the players with a boundary, ‘regulars’ would do well to park their cars out of the line of fire if damage and harsh words are to be avoided.
Tradition, or a handing down of customs from generation to generation, is strong and deep in this country. The tradition of a seat under the trees watching cricket with a glass of beer is far more, though, than a sentimental picture of continuing village life. Pubs have provided atmosphere, hospitality and fellowship for many hundreds of years; today’s meat and potato pie or fish and chips may be traditional, but that menu goes back a very short time compared with the days of the first drinking houses.
In the earliest days brewing was a domestic activity, mainly carried out by women, or ‘brewsters’. Local applications at ‘brewster’ sessions for the granting of licences in the twenty-first century recall this early custom of the brewing and selling of ale.
Of course, some brewsters’ products were more popular than others, attracting more customers to their homes where villagers could meet, drink and socialise. From this came the ‘public’ house as we know it, at a pub which is also a home, with the publican as a host and the customer a guest.
The brewing of ale from barley had been going on for centuries before the Romans came in 55 BC, but the brew did not develop into beer containing hops until after 1400, when the first hopped version arrived in England from Flanders. Gradually, as its popularity grew, the ‘new’ beer was brewed more widely and hops were being grown in England for beer production. Today the terms ‘ale’ and ‘beer’ mean much the same, although strictly speaking ale is a brew containing just a small trace of hops.
We have good evidence to suggest that when the Romans came they established drinking places in their settlements and particularly on their military roads, which were both long and hard. These tabernae (from which our ‘tavern’ comes) must have been a very welcome sight; they identified themselves with a bush in the form of a bundle of vine leaves hanging outside. Wine was a universal drink, although ale was also usually on sale.
As well as the bush outside, travellers might see the ‘chequers’ sign on a board or wall, which showed that games like draughts could be played there. It is a commonly used sign today; in Yorkshire we have it for example at Bilton in Ainsty near Wetherby and at Ledsham just north of Castleford. Bush and vine are both hard to find, although the vine sign can be seen on the Headrow in Leeds. Rare too is a painted bunch of grapes kept on display over the front wall of a pub; look for it on the front of the King’s Head in the Market Place at Richmond.
Roman tabernae on military roads must have served quite small numbers of travellers, but in later centuries, as the movement of people began to increase, the need for places for rest and refreshment became more and more important and encouraged the setting up of inns for those on the roads. Places of pilgrimage such as Canterbury attracted large numbers of pilgrims who needed rest on the way; it became a profitable business for the monasteries ready and able to open inns for those on pilgrim routes or on Church business.
One of Yorkshire’s fascinating examples is the Bingley Arms at Bardsey near Leeds. Mentioned in Domesday Book, it was known as the Priests’ Inn from AD 953 until 1780, when it was renamed. The inn was connected with Kirkstall Abbey and offered rest and hospitality for monks travelling to St Mary’s at York. A priest’s hole in the chimney is on view, an exciting glimpse of the past life of the building. We even know the name of the brewer here in 953: one Samson Ellis.
The growth of trading centres and markets brought drovers and merchants across the country and even from overseas. To meet the growing need of wayfarers on foot or on horseback, inns in market places and out in the countryside grew in number and quality. Large country estates also provided places of refreshment for their workers whose earnings often included ale; many village pubs today recall this with their signs showing the arms of the lord of the manor or important landowner, such as the Yorke Arms at Ramsgill in Nidderdale, now advertising itself as a restaurant with rooms.
The Kings Head in the Market Place at Richmond with the bunch of grapes above the main entrance.
But of all the influences on the development of pubs, the most outstanding was the introduction of coach services: from 1657 onwards the growth of such travel was enormous, encouraged by the establishment of turnpike trusts that improved roads and charged vehicles for their use. Coaching inns not only had to provide food and accommodation for passengers, but in addition needed to organise stabling for horses, which had to be changed about every 15 miles. All the activity would have taken place in a courtyard, access being through an archway alongside the inn. This pattern becomes quite familiar on important routes such as the Great North Road, where the Golden Lion at Northallerton was a well-known stage. After Thirsk it was the next stop northwards, serving both private coach services and the mails. More remote routes needed stage stops too, and these inns became popular as a result; an example is the King’s Arms at Askrigg in Wensleydale. It served as a coaching inn on the Richmond to Lancaster run and more recently played as the Drovers’ Arms in All Creatures Great and Small.
The golden age of the coaching inn inevitably came to an end with the development of the railways, but it was not to be too long before car travel opened up new opportunities for well-managed country pubs, while town pubs also changed to meet changing social needs. Eating out has become increasingly popular and menus show the influence of foreign travel. The power of the large breweries has meant the loss of independence of many pubs and the closure of some, unable to cope with competition and rising costs. No doubt the extension of licensing hours has played a part in this and has added pressure on landlords.
Pub signs and their meanings
Going back to the Middle Ages and beyond, few people could read or write and had to depend on sign language in many ways for even their most basic needs. Shopping was a good example: signs were necessary to tell the public what a shop had for sale and streets in towns were lined with symbols of various kinds. Visit Half Moon Court at York Castle Museum to see some of these. The barber’s pole has survived in many places and occasionally one still sees a so-called American Red Indian standing outside a tobacconist’s shop.
While the bush, or bundle of vine leaves hanging outside, identified drinking places in this country in Roman times this did nothing to meet later needs when travel developed and the number of ale houses or pubs began to increase. It became important for publicans to be able to distinguish their houses from those of competitors by a prominent sign easily recognised by everyone, the more colourful and eye catching the better. Some signs became ‘standards’, like the Red Lion and the Rose & Crown; many have fascinating connections or origins. Some have become landmarks and are listed as bus stops.
The majority of signs are painted on hanging boards or are fixed to the front wall; much skill and imagination are required on the part of sign painters to capture the spirit of the chosen name of the pub. There are many framed in decorated wrought iron; the most extravagant of these is at the Three Swans at Market Harborough in Leicestershire.
The Old Starre Inne at Stonegate.
Spectacular, but all too rare examples are the strangely named ‘gallows’ signs that extended right across the whole road. Their drawback was the danger they created for passers by; eventually the law forbade new ones from being erected. One timber arch that stood the test of time for many years crossed the A140 Norwich road at Stonham in Suffolk outside the Magpie. The bird stood on the centre of the cross bar, but in recent years it was wrecked by a large goods vehicle. After a long delay and much bureaucratic discussion its restoration was agreed and tradition triumphed; it looks magnificent again. York has a famous and handsome version in Stonegate at Ye Olde Starre Inne. A glimpse of York Minster can be detected in the distance.