Friday 22 April 2022

The Story of Bass - The Rise & Demise of a Brewing Great

Saturday 16th April was National Bass Day, a day set aside to celebrate one of the UK’s most famous draught beers. Draught Bass is a copper-coloured traditional beer with a fine balance of malt and hops which, in its heyday, was one of Britain’s most widely available cask ales. At one time, brewing volumes were around 800,000 barrels a year, but today production has dropped to just 30,000 barrels per annum.

April 2022 also marks the 245th Anniversary of William Bass founding his brewery in Burton upon Trent, a venture which started as a small provincial brewery, but then went on to become one of the best-known, and most celebrated brewing companies in the world.

Until the year 2000, Bass Brewers Ltd were the largest brewing group in the UK, with a prestigious history dating back over 200 years, behind them, but following fall-out from the UK Government’s ill-fated Beer Orders, Bass decide to quit brewing altogether, and concentrate instead on their fast-growing Intercontinental Hotel Group – a move which came as a shock to many in the industry, and one which continues to surprise commentators today.

Many separate breweries and larger groups were absorbed into what originally became Bass Charrington, and the tale of how this all came about, makes fascinating reading. Those wishing to know more, need now to look no further for, hot off the press is a brand-new book that explores the history behind the creation of Bass Brewers Ltd.

The Story of Bass – The Rise and Demise of a Brewing Great, tells the story of the charismatic, and often driven individuals who played a pivotal role in drawing together the various threads that led to the formation of this brewing behemoth. These events took place against a background of changing economic conditions, different social attitudes, and continuing industrial developments.

The book's author is Harry White, who after joining Bass in 1977, went on to become Director of Quality Assurance, until the takeover of the company’s brewing assets by Coors Brewing in 2000. During his time with the company, Harry was a frequent visitor at all thirteen of the breweries that belonged to Bass at the time, including the mega-brewery at Runcorn, in Cheshire. The development of this 2.5 million barrels per year plant, was a corner stone in the company’s strategy at the time although, for a variety of reasons, it was ultimately to prove an expensive failure.

Harry retired from Molson Coors in 2007 and is now the chairman of the National Brewery Heritage Trust. His book, which is a real labour of love, is an essential read for anyone interested in the history of beer and brewing, delving as it does into hitherto unseen archives, whilst mixed with astute observations of the personalities behind the constituent companies.

Amberley Publishing, who commissioned and published the book, kindly sent me a copy to review, after I responded to a request on the British Guild of Beer Writers’ website. Having worked for Bass myself, for a two year spell, back in the late 1970’s, I was more than happy to carry out a review of Harry’s book, so please read on and learn more about the fascinating story of this former brewing giant and its world-famous trademark – the iconic Bass Red Triangle.

Now I don’t intend on telling the whole of the story behind the rise and fall of this brewing giant, as there would be no point in you buying the book if I did, but the significant steps and event that came together to create Britain’s largest brewing company are worthy of special mention. Put simply, a number of companies from Scotland, the north of England, the midlands, and London merged during the 1960’s to form what became Bass Charrington. But let’s start with the most famous of these, which of course is Bass itself.

From quite humble beginnings during the last quarter of the 18th Century, Bass grew to become the largest, and most successful brewing company, first in Britain, and eventually globally. This ascendancy as the largest ale brewer in the world was achieved by 1879, just over 100 years from the founding of the firm.

Together with their Burton rival, Samuel Allsopp, Bass dominated the growing market for pale ale, primarily for export to India, to keep the colonists, administrators and the troops, there to keep the peace happy. The strong and well-hopped India Pale Ales brewed by both companies, were sparkling, well-conditioned and had a reputation for consistency that enabled them to survive the long and arduous voyage to the Indian sub-continent. It wasn't long either, before these qualities began to be appreciated by an eager domestic market, as well.

Despite being the largest brewer in the world Bass, Ratcliffe & Gretton, as the firm had now become, was never really a pub owning company. Instead, Bass relied on its reputation and its ability to sell its beers through the free trade. It did acquire some public houses, following the takeover of Thomas Salt & Co, another famous old Burton brewer in 1927, but this had followed on from a far more significant merger, the previous year, with its major rival Worthington & Co.

The latter were the third largest brewery in Burton, but despite the merger, the two companies were never truly integrated. For those who remember the creation of British Airways, achieved by a merger of BEA and BOAC, the same scenario applied, as the first loyalties of many workers ended up being to their former employers, rather than to the new company, British Airways. For several years after the merger, many employees still regarded themselves as either BEA, or BOAC people.

Between the two world wars, the Bass management seemed content to rest on their reputation as free trade brewers, rather than commit to owning a large estate of pubs, but as more and more outlets came under direct control from other brewers, there was an increased reluctance on their part, to stock Bass beers. The merger that took place with Birmingham-based, Mitchells & Butlers, addressed this situation as the latter company had built up a large estate of tied houses, across the West Midlands. So, allied with the reputation of both Bass and Worthington, and the large cash reserves of the former, this coming together of two substantially different companies, was the perfect union.

The other links in the chain, that eventually came together to create Charrington United Breweries, in 1962, are rather more complex. Charrington’s were a successful London-based brewer, who had built up a substantial tied estate, primarily in the capital, but also within some of the surrounding counties. United Breweries had a far more convoluted history, and you will need to refer to the book to discover the exact details as to how this rag-bag collection of widely scattered breweries, came into being.

Author, Harry White has done a sterling job in piecing together the intricate takeovers and mergers that led to the creation of United Breweries, but one individual stands out, more than anyone else in the story and that person was Edward Plunkett Taylor. The latter individual was a brash, but very successful Canadian businessman, who, following the creation of Canadian Breweries Ltd, in his own country, wanted to create a national brewer in Britain, that would take his company’s premium product, Carling Black Label lager.

Taylor achieved his ambition in quite a round about way, which came about through the objectives of a man called Tom Carter, CEO of Sheffield based, Hope & Anchor Breweries. In 1951, Carter was visiting Toronto trying to interest the Canadian market in his company’s Jubilee Stout. The latter was a sweet, dark, bottles “milk stout,” which wasn’t particularly suited to the North American market, but Carter was persistent, if nothing else.

Whilst in Toronto he met E.P. Taylor who, as already noted, was keen to launch his company’s bestselling beer, Carling Black Label. Taylor struck a deal with Carter, whereby his Canadian Breweries would brew Jubilee Stout for the Canadian market, whilst Hope & Anchor would brew Carling in Sheffield, and sell it through their own tied houses with a view to expanding sales into other brewer’s pubs as well. The deal went ahead, and the first brew of Carling in Sheffield, took place in 1953.

It wasn’t the best arrangement for either party, as a sweet, dark, and heavy beer, such as Jubilee Stout, was totally unsuited for the North American market. Taylor, for his part, was dissatisfied by the low sales volumes that H&A achieved for Carling, through their relatively small, tied estate. A new agreement was signed in 1958, which sowed the seed of Taylor’s desire to create a national brewing group within the UK.

Canadian Breweries became the major shareholder in H&A, and Eddie Taylor gained a seat on the board. The Canadian entrepreneur's foot was now firmly in the door of the hitherto paternalistic, and closely-knit British brewing industry, and whilst his presence was at first unwelcome, there was little these old-school brewing families could do in order to thwart Taylor’s ambitions. The stage was now set for an almost whirlwind round of takeover and mergers, all engineered by Eddie Taylor, that led to the creation of first Northern Breweries, which then morphed into United Breweries.

As mentioned earlier, United Breweries merged with Charrington’s in 1962, and became Charrington United Breweries in the process. Apart from Carling Black Label, the newly merged company still lacked a national brand; one that could be used to achieve dominance in the market place. The problem was solved five year later in 1967, by the mega-merger between Charrington United and Bass, Mitchells & Butlers. The latter group had two ready-made, well-known, and highly-respected brands, in then hugely important draught bitter market; the brands of course being Bass and Worthington!

The merger was the largest that the UK brewing industry had ever experienced, and the company became known as Bass Charrington. The group continued with this name until 1979, when it was simplified to Bass plc. So, the name of the company, founded by William Bass in 1777, was the one which survived, and the one that transcended the names of all the other famous brewing companies that were absorbed over the years, into the new group.

We are getting very near the end now, but it’s worth noting that Carling went on to become the UK’s best-selling beer. I’m not certain whether it still holds that title, but Carling’s success was sufficient for Eddie Taylor to retire to the Bahamas, in 1972 having seen his persistence and optimism in building the UK’s largest brewing group, finally come to fruition.

The final chapter in the story is rather a sorry one, even though a further 33 years were to pass before Bass finally decided to quit brewing and become a hotel owning chain. Four years previously the company had agreed in principle to purchase 50 per cent of Carlsberg-Tetley, one of the other major players in the UK brewing industry, and a competitor of Bass.

The deal was blocked by the Secretary of State for Trade & Industry, on anti-trust grounds, and was undoubtedly the reason for Bass leaving brewing altogether and abandoning over 200 years of history and tradition within this sector. For someone like me, who had worked for the company, it was very sad to see the name Bass disappear.

I only worked with the group for two years, and was employed in Bass’s wines & spirits section, Hedges & Butler, which was based in London’s East End. They were a good company to work for, and they looked after their workforce,  and reading Harry White’s book has not only brought back some good memories but has also opened my eyes to the history and the fascinating stories behind the rise and fall of Britain’s largest brewing company.

Background and disclosure:

The Story of Bass, by Harry White, is available from Amberley Publishing, priced at £15.99. The book consists of 96 pages and contains 150 illustrations, many of them previously unpublished.  The publishers have kindly allowed me to use a selection of them, to illustrate this review. The photo of young drinkers, enjoying a few beers, dates from the Swinging 60's. It appears on p 90 of the book, and as it reminds me of my youth, I have included it as a piece of pure nostalgia.

I received a complimentary copy of the book, in respect of providing a review, and the thoughts and observations contained therein, are my own, and to the best of my knowledge remain unbiased and uninfluenced by my receipt of the review copy.

With grateful thanks to Philip James Dean, Publicity Officer at Amberley Publishing.

 

 

9 comments:

T'other Paul said...

A fascinating episode of brewing history.
Bass had rejected suggestions in the late nineteenth century of moving towards a very pale beer such as was drunk on the continent and so the likes of Carling Black Label came a good half century later than it might have done.
Also worth reading is Roger Protz's "The story of Brewing in Burton on Trent" which I remember reviewing for What's Brewing just over ten years ago.
Though Bass was the company name to last longest I understand that M&B had been the more successful half of what became Bass, Mitchells and Butlers.

Paul Bailey said...

Stafford Paul, I have quite a few of Roger Protz's books in my collection, but not the book on brewing in Burton on Trent, that you refer to. I will have to look out for it.

I also didn't realise that Bass had adopted such a stance on very pale beers - lager, presumably? I imagine they saw no need to change, given their dominance in the pale ale market at the time.

Mitchells and Butlers were definitely more successful than Bass, prior to the merger of the two companies. They had a large number of pubs, several breweries, which as well as the large Cape Hill plant, also included the Springfield Brewery in Wolverhampton and the Highgate & Walsall Brewery - famed for its dark mild.

They also had a formidable CEO, in Alan Walker, who saw the benefit of a merger with Bass, and who was also instrumental in the formation of Bass Charrington, just six years later.

Bass enjoyed tremendous loyalty from their employees, and also possessed substantial cash reserves - probably as a result of them not having a large, ties estate of pubs to maintain and support.

As you said, it was a fascinating period in brewing history.

retiredmartin said...

The history of Bass is complex, so your post is very timely, Paul.

When I lived in Hertfordshire in the '90s I saw Bass as a guest in McMullens pub, but rarely elsewhere, and never in Cambridge. It popped up quite a bit when I started visiting East Midlands pubs, but it's the last few years when I've seen it more than ever, put on by good licensees across the Midlands and further.

Paul Bailey said...

Hi Martin, if the story of Bass as a company is complex, the story of Bass beer has a few complications of its own.

When I first became interested in breweries, Bass Charrington were selling a cask version of Worthington E, primarily in their West Country pubs, although I do recall seeing it on sale at the famous Anglesea Arms, in South Kensington. I also remember trying a pint there, as well.

The rumour that was going around at the time, was it was the same beer as Draught Bass, although the two had once been different brews. The brewery stuck with the Worthington E name in certain areas, because that was the beer that drinkers in those regions, preferred and were familiar with. Eventually they switched the name to Draught Bass, and reserved the Worthington E name for their best-selling keg brand.

I don’t know how true this story was, or whether it was just an urban myth, but apparently they did the same with bottled Red Triangle Bass and Worthington White Shield. This time around they stuck with the Worthington name for White Shield, which was bottle-conditioned, and discontinued Red Triangle Bass, in favour of the filtered and pasteurised Blue Triangle version.

The latter story is true, as it was mentioned in the Story of Bass book, that I recently reviewed. Finally, before I knew anything much about beer, I must have consumed quite a few pints of keg Worthington E. I’m allowed to confess this, now that I’m no longer a CAMRA member!

T'other Paul said...

Paul,
I never thought it a 'rumour' or 'urban myth' but understood it as fact that in the early 1970s Bass Charrington had both Bass and Worthington names for each of three beers.
CAMRA giving keg Worthington E a bad name ( though not quite as effectively as to Watneys for Red ) encouraged them to drop that name for the cask beer that was mainly sold as draught Bass. Similar rationalistion saw bottled Bass red triangle only sold as Worthington White Shield and bottled Bass blue triangle only sold as Worthington E.

T'other Paul said...

Sorry, Bass Charrington had both Bass and Worthington names for each of FOUR not three beers, keg Worthington E also having been sold as Bass Special.

Paul Bailey said...

Stafford Paul, thanks for the confirmation. The memory can sometimes play the odd trick, especially after 40 plus years, and all the shenanigans that went on in the brewing industry.

Looking back, I thought that Bass Charrington shot themselves in the foot by producing both a cask and a keg version of the same beer (Worthington E), but they weren’t alone in the practice.
Things are turning full circle again, with cask and keg versions of beers such as Wainwright, Pedigree and London Pride, available in both forms.

In many respects, despite their huge size, Bass Charrington were quite an old-fashioned company, although some of this was down to inertia, rather than a reluctance to change. For example, the company with the largest number of pubs with handpumps, in mid-1970’s London, was Charrington’s. This wasn’t because they were passionate about real ale but was much more the case that they simply hadn’t got round to converting their pubs over to keg and top-pressure beer.

“The Story of Bass” describes the group, prior to the publication of the government’s infamous “beer orders,” as a number of vertically integrated local operating companies, and that is how I best remember Bass, as both a brewer, and a pub-owning company. Pubs in the south-east were Charrington’s, those in the West Midlands were M&B, whilst those in the East Midlands, were Bass Worthington.

This brings us back nicely to the Bass or Worthington debate. Here again, inertia played a strong part, and as mentioned in the book, the two former companies were never completely integrated, despite their merger in the late 1920’s. Worthington E was one of a range of cask beers produced by Worthington, and whilst the name may well have represented quality, the name didn’t quite match the trendier, and sometimes gimmicky monikers adopted by other Big Six brewers for their keg beers (Tavern, Tartan, Tankard, Red etc).

Finally, Martyn Cornell sums up the whole Bass-Worthington saga nicely, in this article from 2012. https://zythophile.co.uk/2012/10/26/worthington-e-is-not-a-burton-ale/, Martyn confirms that following the merger Worthington ‘E’ and draught Bass continued to be sold in competition to each other as premium draught beers, despite being exactly the same brews. Fascinating stuff!

T'other Paul said...

"that they simply hadn’t got round to converting their pubs over to keg and top-pressure beer" was largely how it was with Bass Charrington in the Midlands as well as the London area.
"Pubs in the south-east were Charrington’s, those in the West Midlands were M&B, whilst those in the East Midlands, were Bass Worthington" and I remember them badged as "Welsh Brewers" or "Bass Yorkshire" in those parts and "Tennents" in Scotland.
I recently got confused about when I heard 'Life On Mars' in Lichfield's King's Head and yesterday I got the two former Doxey pubs mixed up on the Stafford Forum and that reminds me that we should strive for accuracy as best we can. I remember a few errors in books I've reviewed and that's why I appreciate the thoroughness of the likes of Boak and Bailey and Martyn Cornell.

T'other Paul said...

I've just noticed on his 'Protz on Beer' site a rather scathing review of this book by Roger.