Higson's - a former Liverpool legend, fondly remembered

Here’s a photo that will appeal to old readers in particular, but this trio of bottles is a recent purchased picked up from my local Home Bargains store before Christmas. Confused? You ought to be, especially as the name Higson’s was at one time synonymous with the city of Liverpool. When was that, I hear some of you ask, well the brewery of Daniel Higson Ltd was first registered in Liverpool in 1888 before moving to the Windsor Brewery, in Upper Parliament Street, in 1914. Nine years later, Higson’s acquired the Toxteth brewery of Robert Cain & Sons Ltd.

A number of other breweries were acquired during the years that followed, but in the main, these were relatively small, local concerns. Then, in 1983, a new brew-house capable of brewing lager was constructed. Unfortunately, this new asset attracted the interest of Manchester based Boddington's, who bought the company and its 160 tied houses in June 1985. It wasn’t long before an even bigger fish appeared on the scene, in the form of brewing giant Whitbread. The latter bought the combined Boddington’s group in 1989 and promptly closed the Toxteth site a year later.  

I now want to turn the clock back to 1973, which was the year when, amongst other things, I first became acquainted with the name of Higson’s. It’s quite a convoluted story so please, "bear with", as they say. In the autumn of that year, I was a “fresher”, (hate that term), at the University of Salford,  I lodged with my aunt Pat (my mother’s sister), for a number of reasons, but all relating to the acute shortage of student accommodation in the Manchester area at the time – as well as Salford University, there was Manchester University, UMIST (a subsidiary of the latter) and Manchester Polytechnic (now known as Manchester Metropolitan University). I was admitted to Salford University through UCCA clearing after failing to get the necessary grades for Warwick, but with space on my chosen course not confirmed until late September, finding somewhere to live was proving difficult, to put it mildly. 

This was where my mother intervened, and after speaking to her sister, my aunt kindly offered me the use of her spare room, until I found somewhere more permanent. My aunt and uncle, plus my two cousins, who were both younger than me, lived in Romiley, a pleasant workaday town, in the foothills of the Pennines a few miles outside Stockport. Romiley is a fair distance from Salford but well connected to central Manchester by train. So, a 20-minute walk to Romiley station, a train ride into Manchester Picadilly, and then a bus through the city centre, to Salford Crescent, meant I usually arrived in plenty of time for the first lecture of the day. 

As an aside, I hadn’t realised, at first, that there were two rail routes between Romiley and Manchester, the main, and most direct one being via Bredbury and Belle Vue. The second, and slightly longer route was via Hyde and Guide Bridge, and I nearly freaked out the first time I boarded this service, as I thought I’d caught the wrong train. There were no, in-train, announcements back in the mid-70’s, and no helpful maps showing rail routes either. Passengers were just expected to know these things, so you can perhaps understand my initial panic. 

At weekends, many of my friends and fellow course-mates either lived on the other side of Manchester or returned to their parents' homes, as they resided within commuting distance of Salford. This left me at a loose end, on Saturday and Sunday, so most Saturdays I took the bus into Stockport, just for something to do. This involved a look around the shops, a visit to the town’s colourful market, and then a quick pint or two, but where to go? There were no beer guides, or lists of recommended pubs in those days, so it was a simple question of picking one at random, or rather picking one that looked both friendly, and potentially welcoming. It's not always easy to get those things right, but let’s not forget that north country folk generally have those qualities in greater abundance, than their more reserved southern counterparts.

But what about the beer? Again, I knew very little about the region’s beer, apart from there being a dozen or more local breweries whose names I’d never heard of. Prior to me going up to Salford, a school friend who was much more interested in beer than I was, told me to try Boddington’s. There didn’t seem to be many Boddington’s pubs close to the university, and the “cream of Manchester” as it was later called, seemed thin on the ground in Stockport, as well. As might be expected, local brewer Robinson’s were well represented in their home town, and as there was a Robbie’s pub a short walk from my aunt’s place, I soon put their beers to the test.

I can’t remember the name of this pub, despite trying to locate it on a map, so I get the impression it is no longer trading.  The road layout seems to have changed as well, although Barrack Hill, where my aunt lived, is still shown on the local map.  So, if any Stopfordians reading this, can remember an unassuming Robinson’s pub, in a corner location on the road heading north out of Romiley, towards Bredbury, then please let me know.

Back to Stockport, and opposite Mersey Square Shopping Centre, just across the busy A6 Wellington Road, was the now sadly closed, George. This large, pub with a prominent position on a street corner, was a lone outpost for Higson’s - a brewery that back in 1973, I had never heard of. But after walking past this substantial, two-storey pub, my interest was piqued, and I summoned up the courage to venture inside. I’d already discovered that the Vault, was the equivalent of the Public Bar, back home, so I pushed open the door to one of the other two bars. This was probably the Lounge, and on a busy Saturday lunchtime (no all-day opening back then), it was packed to the gunwales.

With nowhere to sit down, I stood at the bar, feeling like a pork pie at a Jewish wedding. Now this is where after 53 years, my memory fails me, although whether or not the George had traditional hand pulls, or the metred electric dispense that was common at the time, in most areas north of Watford, isn’t really that relevant to the narrative, but Higson’s Mild and Bitter were available, alongside Draught Bass. Again, relying on memory, the latter may well have been labelled as Worthington E – a common practice in the Bass empire at the time. As for a Bass beer on sale, at a pub belonging to an independent brewer, I’m guessing this must have been some long-standing trading arrangement. 

I ordered a pint of Higson’s Bitter, and found its taste most agreeable, but I’ve no idea whether I had another pint, or perhaps tried the mild, but given the amount of customers in the pub, the Merseyside brewer’s beers were certainly very popular. The following term, I’d found some lodgings, “digs” as they were politely referred to, closer to the university. Situated just off the Eccles New Road, almost opposite Salford’s famous Hope Hospital - now renamed, Salford Royal, the rooms at Mrs Pierce’s left a lot to be desired, and the food served up, doubly so. Students, back then, were made of sterner stuff, so I had no real problem sharing a room with a final year student, who snored profusely, but who also had a van. I paid him, whatever the going rate was, for a ride into the campus, most mornings, although I usually took the bus back to the lodgings.

During my final year, I moved in with a group of friends, who were renting a slightly tumbledown, Victorian cottage, on the edge of Kersal Moor – an area of moorland in northern Manchester. Known as Church Cottage, the property was owned by the church, and rent paid to the local vicar. To cut a long story short, the property was occupied by six of us students, with numbers fluctuating slightly depending on which of the resident’s partners (male of female), was around at the time.  Two of the residents were members of a rock group, called Quasar, including their lead guitarist, a "scouser" called Dave. Dave introduced us to a couple of his Liverpudlian mates, both of whom were studying at Oxford. The pair were also budding rock musicians, so it was natural there should be not just contact, but some mixing between the Salford and Oxford contingents, with other house members such as me, acting as hangers on.

There were various meet ups, in both Oxford and Liverpool, and it was during a visit to the latter that myself and the other non-scouser’s became acquainted with the Crow’s Nest. This was a deservedly popular, three-room, former Higson’s pub, in the Crosby area of the city. Although I only made a couple of visits, the Crow’s Nest struck a chord with me, and I am pleased to report that the pub is still trading under local community ownership of the. It is also Grade 2 listed and is classed by English Heritage as a two-star public house, with late 19th century origins, with an interior of very special national historic interest. The photo here is lifted from What Pub, and I’m sure you will agree it’s a fine-looking building that is obviously an asset to the surrounding community.

Regrettably, the George in Stockport has not fared anywhere near as well and the closed pub is currently awaiting demolition. The site is due to be redeveloped with plans for a substantial multi-storey building containing a large number of apartments. A sorry end for this former, lone outpost for Higson’s ales, but what about the Higson’s beers I found on sale at Home Bargains?  

The historic Higson’s brand was originally revived in 2017, by Love Lane Brewery, who were based in Liverpool's Baltic Triangle district. Love Lane entered administration but was acquired by TJ Morris, the Liverpool-based company behind Home Bargains. An abandoned warehouse was converted into an 18,000-hectolitre brewery with the capacity to produce 3.2 million pints, along with a gin distillery, bar, and eatery. Hence, the Home Bargains connection. The three beers I purchased – Bitter Ale, Brown Ale and Golden Ale are new recipes inspired by the original Higson’s brews, using modern ingredients and brewing technology. 

As it’s 40 years, or so since I drank the original Higson’s beers, and bearing in mind that the Toxteth brewery ceased production in 1990, any taste comparisons between old and new are meaningless. The original company was well-regarded among drinkers in Merseyside, and many expressed disappointment and frustration when the brewery closed. I trust you have found this lengthy and rather self-indulgent look back, at a former Liverpool institution, interesting and entertaining. I certainly enjoyed piecing it together, even if it did mean deep into the memory well, a task which, admittedly, wasn’t easy after the best part of half a century!

What happened next on Pub Friday

You left me departing from the Red Lion at Rusthall, and heading for the nearest bus stop. My intention was to catch the 14:27 service from Rusthall Church, which would safely see me back in Tunbridge Wells ahead of the school rush. Not only did I achieve this, I also managed to jump off the 291 Metrobus outside Tunbridge Wells station, and then hop onto an Arriva bus service that would take me back to Tonbridge. Talk about a seamless connection, and hardly a school kid in sight! Arriving back in Tonbridge, my first task was to find something to eat, and this I achieved by popping into Gregg's. 

There wasn’t a lot left on the filled roll front, which was hardly surprising given the time of day, but a ham and (admittedly) rather tasteless slice of cheese, shoved into a roll, along with a flat white coffee was sufficient to satisfy the inner man. But where to next? The choice was either the Nelson Arms or Fuggles, and it was the latter that won. A convenient bus stop, just five minutes’ walk away from Fuggles, swayed the day, as it seems to have done on a number of recent occasions. I’ve been making good use of my “old gits” bus pass, and whilst I’m all for exercise and walking in the fresh air, it’s an uphill slog back to Bailey Towers, which isn’t what I need at the end of a day out.

There was also the chance of getting another stamp on my cask, “loyalty card” – a stamp for each pint purchased, followed by a free pint once all 10 spaces have been filled. I’ve taken quite a shine to Tonbridge Fuggles, over the past few months, having paid it more visits than any of the other local pubs. I like the easy-going, relaxed atmosphere associated with Fuggles, plus the mixed, and appreciative crowd this beer café attracts. The other reason is that on Thursdays, which is the day when I’ve got some genuine free time available to me, the Nelson doesn’t open until 3pm. Hence Fuggles usually wins over the Nelson.

That’s not to say I haven’t got a soft spot for the latter, as it’s a proper and genuine, traditional back-street local. With regards to beer range, the Nelson stocks up to 10 cask ales, compared to the four normally available at Fuggles, but here’s the rub, many are often from small breweries most of us have never heard of.  This is fine for beer tickers, and also for those who enjoy a bit of variety, but the main thing I’ve noticed is that when a popular beer appears amongst the line-up, it will normally disappear quite rapidly, sometimes almost overnight. Examples include Bonfire Boy and Christmas Ale from Harvey’s, Larkin’s Porter, Adnams Old and virtually anything from Lowestoft-based, Green Jack Brewery.

By contrast, some of the less well-known beers, often hang around for ages, proof if it was needed, of the attraction and pulling power of certain well-known beers, compared to that of their less well-known counterparts. I am able to check which beers are on tap at the Nelson, thanks to the Real Ale Finder App that I installed on my phone. It's not all one-sided though, as the Nelson has a thriving food trade, which not only includes legendary Sunday lunches, but also encompasses themed food deals, such as Curry Night, Pie Evening and several other specialty evenings. Live music, is another feature at the Nelson  although such performances aren't that frequent and are not necessarily everyone's cup of tea.  

Back to the story, after leaving Gregg's, I walked the short distance along to Fuggles, pausing to check the bus times on the way. I already knew, after looking online, that a strong, dark mild from The Kernel Brewery was on sale, and after ordering a pint, and getting my card stamped, the 5.6% Victorian Mild did not disappoint. It was rich, dark and malty with a tremendous depth of flavour that also included raisins and chocolate notes. A couple of days previously, I enjoyed a bottle of Baltic Porter at home. This 6.4% abv beer was also from Kernel, and it is here that I’d like to say something about their bottle labels.

I’m sure many of you are familiar with Kernel’s unassuming plain brown labels, which resemble brown, paper packaging. Underplayed and unpretentious, and presumably deliberately designed, to not detract from the beer itself, but for me, these plain, boring labels do the beer a huge disservice, as they say absolutely nothing about the beer, as well as the brand itself. Crazy really, because whilst I’m rarely disappointed when I crack open a bottle of Kernel beer or enjoyed a perfectly pulled pint of cask from the same brewery. Unfortunately, the brown paper labels tell me nothing about the beer, apart from that it will surprise me!

Before ending this piece, there’s one final attraction that draws me along to Fuggles on a Thursday, and that is the reduced price of the hotdogs on that particular day. £6 Hot Dogs make the perfect lunch offering at Fuggles, was the piece I wrote about this offer, six months ago, and this coming Thursday, after a visit to the barbers, plus a spot of shopping, that is where you will find me.