Meanwhile the 19th-century Vulcan in Cardiff was shuttered, despite a campaign to save it, in 2012. Sadly, many of us also know of closed historic pubs, perhaps because their owners want to sell up and put up a bunch of flats or change the use to a restaurant.įor instance, Bristol’s ancient Llandoger Trow was closed by its owners and put up for sale in 2019, because it didn’t fit in with the rest of the company’s estate. Then there are the country pubs that have just grown and evolved down through the years almost taken root in their surroundings, becoming as comfortable as an old pair of slippers. Some pubs, such as the Albion in Conwy, North Wales, and The Grill in Aberdeen, have interiors that are untouched survivors from the Twenties, when breweries were making their pubs a lot more attractive to both men and women. When cock fighting was banned in 1849 it became The Fisherman and then changed back in 1872. The inclusion of Ye Olde in front of a pub’s name is not always a sign of antiquity – Ye Olde Fighting Cocks was originally called The Round House until the 19th century. Or the whoosh of beer, bright and foaming into the glass, placed on a weathered wooden bar, once a tree when news of Trafalgar travelled by horse? Or could it be the elemental furnishings, elegant survivors from interwar years, sombre wall panellings, or smoothed flagstone floors on which generations have walked?Ī historic pub doesn’t have to have been around since the Ark either, even though several, including Ye Olde Fighting Cocks in St Albans (11th century), Ye Olde Trip to Jerusalem (1189) and the Bell Inn (1437), both in Nottingham, vie for venerable status. What is the attraction of a historic pub? Could it be that serene tick-tock of the grandfather clock in the front parlour, the crackle and spit of logs in the fireplace or the gleam of well-polished architectural fittings put in place in the days of Victoria? Since it was first built sometime in the 15th century (the date of foundation is keenly contested), the George has had an unusual longevity in an area where pubs are lucky to survive a generation, and Brown suggests that this is partly a result of good fortune, and partly hard-headed commercialism certainly, its current incarnation, owned by the National Trust, is as much a tourist attraction as a place to get a drink.Our historic pubs are at the heart of national life, which Historic England recently recognised in awarding Grade I listed status to the Victorian gin palace, the Philharmonic Dining Rooms in Liverpool.Įven though it was estimated in 2019 that up to 14 pubs a week closed, this news indicates that a love for those establishments – more than just places where beer and locally sourced dishes are on offer – still stirs our emotions.
The approach that Brown adopts resembles Gillian Tindall's The House by the Thames, namely looking at how London and its people have changed over the centuries via the prism of one of the city's most famous and historic buildings. It was immortalised by Dickens, a frequent visitor, in Little Dorrit, and may have adjoined the Tabard, the tavern from which Chaucer's pilgrims embarked on their Canterbury jaunt. The capital's only surviving galleried coaching inn, it has seen all society pass through its doors, from highwaymen and prostitutes to royalty. P ete Brown's engaging and irreverent social history takes the George pub in Southwark, London, as its subject.