The Plough at Leigh

The Plough at Leigh Powder Mills is a pub which has been on my radar for a long time; in fact I have been visiting it on and off for the past 30 plus years. It is an attractive, part tile-hung, 16th Century building, set on a bend a mile or two from Leigh village. It has gone through several changes of ownership over the past three decades, but has always been a popular place to visit for the people of Tonbridge and the surrounding area.

I don’t know that much about the Plough’s history, but I do know that up until the mid-1970’s, it was a simple country ale house, of the type which was once very common in this part of Kent. My wife remembers it from that time, as her parents used to walk out there with her and her siblings for the occasional drink in summertime. I recall that when I moved back to Kent in 1979, the Plough was one of several pubs in the area stocking Samuel Smith’s Old Brewery Bitter, and it was worth a visit for that alone.

Sam’s pulled out of Kent a couple of decades ago, and now confine their sales in the South-East, to the area within the M25 motorway; but the Plough was always well known for its beer, and was a regular lunchtime haunt for my colleagues and I when I first worked in Tonbridge.

Getting to the pub is easy; especially for those who are walking or cycling. The initial stage of the route follows the path across Tonbridge Sportsground and on towards Haysden Lake (see previous post), but by turning off to the right, along a tarmac path, one eventually comes out in the area known as Leigh Powder Mills.

From the middle of the Napoleonic Wars until 1934 the Leigh Powder Mills site was used for the production of various types of gunpowder and other explosives. Production at what became known as the "Tunbridge Gunpowder Works", reached its maximum output during the First World War, and in the 1920’s the business was acquired by ICI. The following decade, the company moved all its explosive manufacturing to the west coast of Scotland, where there was far less danger to the local population, from explosions.

The mills used to ground the powder were powered by water, and it was by water-borne barges that raw materials were brought to the site and the finished product shipped out. Little remains today of the former workings, although until five years ago, pharmaceutical giant Glaxo SmithKline (GSK), had their research laboratories and pilot-scale production facility on the northern part of the site. The final stage of the path to the Plough passes the former GSK site, which is now being developed for housing.

On this occasion though, I arrived at the pub by road; having cycled up through Tonbridge and then into Hildenborough. This was all part of my scheme to increase my fitness levels, and my original plan had been to cycle a fair way further, up to the Windmill at Sevenoaks Weald. I hadn’t bargained for temperatures in the mid-20’s though, and having left the house without any sun protection, I decided to divert to the Plough instead.

This was a smart move, as the lanes leading down to the Powder Mills are quite leafy, so there was ample shade, but even so I was quite parched by the time I reached the pub and looking forward to a beer. After locking my bike, I headed into the bar, eager for something cool and refreshing. The warm weather had obviously brought everyone out, and there was quite a queue to get served. I spotted Tonbridge Coppernob and Musket Trigger on cask, and was quite tempted to go for the latter until I saw the fount for draught Pilsner Urquell. I noticed several other people drinking it – easy to spot because of the distinctive barrel-shaped brewery-styled glass, so even at £4.90 a pint I opted for a beer which would really cool me down.

After being served I walked round to the substantial garden at the rear of the pub. Unsurprisingly, given the weather, all tables were taken; as were the tables at the front of the pub – or at least the ones with a bit of shade. I wandered back inside, and found a seat close to the massive, double-sided open fire place which divides one part of the pub from the other.

The Plough has the sort of low-beamed interior one would expect from a pub of this age, but I was just glad of the chance to sit inside, away from the heat of the sun. My beer was excellent, and just what I needed after my cycle ride. Being Sunday lunchtime, the pub was obviously busy with diners, and the food I saw being dished up, looked most appetising.

I decided to restrict myself to just the one pint, so after finishing my beer I paused to take a few photos, before retrieving my bike and heading for home. I followed the off-road route outlined earlier, which was not only much quicker than along the roads, but also much cooler. I’ve a feeling I’ll be calling back at the Plough this summer; now that my bike is back on the road.

The Way Forward?

Last Wednesday evening’s “Consultation Meeting” on CAMRA’s “Revitalisation Project”, was an interesting affair; even if I did arrive slightly later than planned. The latter was partially down to the all too familiar “signalling problems” which plague our over-crowded rail network. For me, this meant my train which, until then had been running to time, stopping at virtually every signal on the approach to London Bridge.

The other reason for my uncharacteristic late arrival was the trouble I had finding the venue. Now I can understand why a brewery might wish to maintain a degree of anonymity when it share’s its neighbourhood with the local scrap metal dealer and a boxing club, but for heaven’s sake, some sort of sign on the door would not go amiss! If Southwark Brewing Company’s delivery van hadn’t been parked outside, I might still be walking up and down the railway arches under London Bridge station, trying to find the place!

My late arrival meant I missed CAMRA Chief Executive, Tim Page’s introductory speech, along with that from Michael Hardman; one of the campaigns’s founding members. I know this because a friend from my local branch had arrived earlier; and on time!

The meeting in full swing

It was standing room only by the time I showed up, but I managed to find some space next to the bar where, not only did I have a clear view of the proceedings, but I could also order a beer anytime I chose. I would estimate there were around 30 people crammed into the front section of Southwark Brewing’s railway arch home. Perhaps not surprisingly, most attendees were middle-aged or older men, with just a handful of women. Two or three of the latter group were campaign staff from CAMRA’s head office, but by turning up, and I include myself here, all attendees proved themselves committed members keen to find out more about CAMRA’s plans and to make their views known.

The meeting took the form of a “Power-Point” type presentation, with bullet points displayed highlighting the various issues facing CAMRA today, and with the chance to vote on a number of them as well. Voting was achieved by issuing each person present with an electronic keypad. People could then vote, when asked, on a number of key issues. The beauty of this system was the results could be displayed, almost immediately, on the screen. This system is a really clever innovation called “clikapad”, and CAMRA will be making extensive use of it, as these consultations meeting are rolled out across the country.

CEO Tim Page, conducted the meeting well, using just the right degree of firmness to keep things on track. However, as is often the case, when some people are more vocal than others, there was a tendency to get bogged down in the detail, and to drag in technical matters when they weren’t really necessary. To my mind many there just weren’t grasping the bigger picture, but were instead focussing upon their own particular niche or interest.

A selection of  Southwark Brewing's beers

To use just a couple of examples, we didn’t really need to have a full-blown discussion on the merits, or otherwise of “Key-Kegs”, particularly when CAMRA’s Technical Committee has already sanctioned their use at CAMRA beer festivals, and when the thorny issue of “Cask Breathers” was raised, I had a distinct feeling of déjà vu.

The main thing which came across from the meeting was the issues which members had been asked to vote on back in April, either online or by post, still seem to divide opinion, with no clear consent emerging as to the way forward. I think the team behind the “Revitalisation Project” will certainly have their work cut out in trying to unravel information gathered so far, and to find a common thread.

Tim did say that information, and poll results, from all these consultation meetings (and there are 50 planned at venues across the country), will be collated and assessed by the project team. There will almost certainly be further surveys and ballots of members; although he did say these would be online only, due to the horrendous costs involved in mailing out packs to all 178,000 members, and the relatively poor response received. 

Tim Page and Michael Hardman

All I can say then is “Watch this space”. From a personal viewpoint I am glad I went along. It was an interesting and informative evening, and it was nice to see a few familiar faces. It was particularly good to meet Tim Page, in person, but the highlight of the evening for me, was introducing myself to, and shaking hands with Campaign founder member, Michael Hardman. 

Footnote: If you are a CAMRA member and there’s a consultation meeting taking place near you, do try and get along. I’m certain you will find it an interesting, and potentially rewarding experience. In the meantime, here is CAMRA’s press-release about the meetings and the electronic, key-pad, voting system being used at them.

“We’ll be bringing a system called “clikapad” along to the consultation meetings so the participants can let us know what they’re thinking as the session progresses - and at the end vote on the big question: who should CAMRA represent?

And to make things even more interesting, you’ll be able to see the results of the votes as the meeting goes on. We’ll be finding out why people join CAMRA, why they remain members, what they like to drink and where they buy their beer from.

We’ll also be asking them if CAMRA’s vision and purpose is still valid in the current beer and pub world and exploring what the threats and opportunities for both the industry and CAMRA might be.
Your opinions and ideas are vital to the Revitalisation Project. As well as the results from the voting being fed back to the Revitalisation Steering Group, we’ll be taking notes of the discussions between the voting and using that as well.”

Looking Ahead With an Eye to the Past

I mentioned in a previous post that I was due to attend one of the consultation exercises set up by CAMRA as part of its Revitalisation Project. Well on Wednesday evening I duly found my way to the railway arch premises of the Southwark Brewing Company, a short hop away from London Bridge station, and listened to CAMRA Chief Executive, Tim Page and Michael Harman, one of the campaign’s founder members, present some of the reasons why CAMRA has launched this exercise. The evening also afforded the opportunity for attendees to debate some of the issues raised, and to vote, electronically, on the more important ones.

There is a fair amount of material to relate; along with some slightly disturbing side issues associated with Wednesday’s meeting so, as soon as time allows, I intend to produce a rather more comprehensive report. For now why not sit back and enjoy this YouTube clip about the Red Lion at Snargate.

The clip was sent to me by a CAMRA colleague, and shows recently deceased landlady, Doris Jemison, and her daughter Kate,  in happier times, nearly a quarter of a century ago. Apart from Doris’s sad passing, nothing much about the Red Lion seems to have changed, since the film was taken, back in 1992. Enjoy!

A Brief Update

My trusty steed

It’s been a bit quiet on the beer and pub front over the past couple of weeks, mainly because I’ve been busy on the home front, working to get a number of projects off the ground.I’ve also been steadily working on improving my fitness levels. It’s long been my habit of going for a stroll at lunchtime, and thanks to a clever App on my phone, I can now record things such as distance walked, number of calories used, pace, route and elevation.

Over the course of last month, I upped the distance I walk from a mile to a mile and a half.  Occasionally I follow a two mile route, but that involves dodging traffic along a busy road which some motorists regard as a racetrack. In addition the two mile walk means there is precious little time for a cup of tea and to eat my sandwiches, when I get back to the office. I pass two pubs on my normal route. They are the Little Brown Jug and the Greyhound. I wrote about them here, but it is very rare that I call in, as lunchtime drinking doesn’t make for a very productive working afternoon.

I overhauled my bike at the end of last autumn, and after some finishing touches and a few last adjustments, I’m mobile on two wheels again. I like cycling, as you can cover far more ground than on foot. The bike allows me to nip down to the centre of the town, pick up a few bits and pieces and then have a cycle around the excellent park we’ve got in Tonbridge.

Haysden Lake

Tonbridge Racecourse Sportsground, as it is correctly known, is located right in the heart of the town, next to Tonbridge’s 12th Century Castle, and is set between two meandering branches of the River Medway. It is a large 69 acre site that benefits from a large open area and a wide range of sports and leisure facilities. There are lengthy hard-surfaced paths circling the whole of the park; both along the banks of the river and through nearby woodland. The Eden Valley Walk and the Weald Way Walk national trails pass nearby the site, making the park the perfect base for longer walks out into the countryside, including the nearby Haysden Country Park.

The path out to the latter forms part of the Tonbridge to Penshurst Cycle Route, and this section is one of my favourite cycle rides. On Sunday, I took my newly re-vamped bike for a ride out to the Country Park; an old gravel pit which has been landscaped and partially returned to nature, since the local council first acquired it in 1988. There are paths around the lake, and also further along the River Medway – right up to the Leigh Flood Barrier; a combination of defensive earthworks and sluice gates designed to protect Tonbridge from flooding.

The sun was shining as I rode through the Sportsground, and it was good to feel some warmth at last, following the cold north-easterly winds which have been plaguing us for the past two weeks. As might be expected, there were lots of people about enjoying the belated, but very welcome spring sunshine.

The former Royal Oak - now private housing

It felt good to be back on the bike, and pleased with my efforts after cycling to the far end of Haysden Lake, I decided it was time for a pint. Less than a decade ago, the Royal Oak pub, a short distance away from the road entrance to the country park, would have been the ideal spot for a welcoming beer. Unfortunately this late Victorian public house closed some time around 2010, and has since been converted into two private dwellings. The landlord claimed that not enough people were using the pub, and whilst he may have been right the Royal Oak was ideally situated to capitalise on its proximity to Haysden Lake, so I can’t help feeling an opportunity was lost, somewhere along the line.

Instead I turned around and headed back into town, and made for the Humphrey Bean; Tonbridge’s JDW outlet. With its garden overlooking the river and with the backdrop of the castle walls on the other side, I could think of few pleasanter places to enjoy an al fresco drink in Tonbridge.
 
This was my first time inside the Bean in ages, and fortunately I timed my visit just right, as I was served more or less straight away. There was a range of different beers on; several of which I was unfamiliar with, but the two which caught my eye were from Tenterden-based Old Dairy Brewery. I opted for the 4.1% Copper Top; a highly quaffable best bitter which isn’t as widely available as the 3.8% Red Top, which was the other Old Dairy beer on tap.

The Humphrey Bean - formerly the town's main Post Office

I took my pint out into the garden and managed to find a seat in the sun. The lunchtime rush was over, which explained why I was served so quickly, but there were still plenty of families, and other groups enjoying the sunshine. I only had the one, as I didn’t want to wobble around too much on the cycle ride home. Besides, it’s all uphill to where I live and I remembered, from my experiences of walking the South Downs Way, that too long a lunch stop, and one too many pints, makes it very hard to get going again!

I’m heading up to London after work on Wednesday, to take part in one of the consultation exercises set up by CAMRA as part of its Revitalisation Project. The venue is the Southwark Brewing Company; a fairly recent (2014) arrival on the burgeoning London Brewing scene, house in a railway arch close to London Bridge station. The company’s range of beers looks interesting, especially as there’s been some involvement from legendary former Rooster’s Brewery Brewmaster, Sean Franklin. 

The meeting has a serious side to it though. I have already submitted my views regarding the way forward for CAMRA electronically, and as the online consultation exercise is now closed, it will be interesting to see what form the meeting takes.

That’s about it for the moment. With no overseas trips due until August (European Beer Bloggers & Writers Conference in Amsterdam), I will be knuckling down and getting stuck in with the various projects which are planned on the house and garden fronts. Until next time, then.

Doris Jemison - Red Lion, Snargate

Doris last year, receiving her GBG 30 year certificate

I am sure that many lovers of traditional and unspoilt pubs will know by now, that Doris Jemison, the legendary and long-serving landlady of the Red Lion at Snargate, sadly passed away last Sunday. Her daughter Kate has advised that the pub will be closed until further notice, and our thoughts, of course, are with her and the rest of the family.

As an infrequent visitor to the Red Lion, I don’t feel qualified to write much about Doris, apart from saying that she was always there. Sometimes she would be serving behind the bar, but more often than not she would be sitting in a corner, close to the bar, either reading or knitting, but still with time to chat to the customers. On my last visit to the Red Lion, Doris's daughter Kate was behind the bar, but later on the lady herself put in an appearance, although she left the serving to Kate and her partner. Wherever she happened to be, her presence was always there, so it is no wonder the pub was known far and wide, simply as Doris’s.

Doris was an ex Land Girl, originally from London. After joining the Land Army when she was 18, she was posted to a farm near Snargate. She met her future husband in the village, where his father was landlord of the Red Lion. Doris and her new husband eventually took over the running of the pub, keeping it much as it had been since the beginning of the last century. When Doris’s husband died 30 years ago, she decided to keep the place just how it was, and today it serves as an example of a pub where time really has stood still.

My last visit to the Red Lion - March 2010

The Red Lion features on CAMRA's National Inventory of unspoilt Heritage Pubs. It has been run by the Jemison family since 1911 and, except for the odd lick of paint, has not been redecorated since 1890. It is situated on the busy B2080, close to the 13th Century St Dunstan’s Church in Snargate; a small village on Romney Marsh. The church was one of the many mediaeval churches on the Marsh that were involved with smuggling; their isolation making them good places for the smugglers to hide their contraband goods before their distribution.

Romney Marsh is a flat and sparsely populated wetland area which just out into the English Channel. The majority of the Marsh is situated in south-east Kent, although a small section to the far south-west lies in East Sussex. Romney Marsh covers about 100 square miles. The Marsh has been built up over the centuries, with land gradually being reclaimed from the sea. Because of its situation it is sometimes known as the “Fifth Continent”. "The world according to the best geographers is divided into Europe, Asia, Africa, America, and Romney Marsh" from the Ingoldsby Legends, written by Reverend Richard Harris Barham (Rector of Snargate).

Bar counter - Red Lion

The Red Lion is believed to date back to 1540, but unlike many old pubs of a similar age, the inside has not been modified and there are a series of inter-connecting rooms. The walls are decorated with a series of original World War II posters, and other memorabilia, and the rooms are also home to a selection of traditional pub games, such as "Devil Amongst the Tailors" and "Shut the Box". Although there is a set of three hand pumps on the marble bar top, they have not been used for many years. Instead all beers are served direct from casks stillaged behind the bar. Local beers feature prominently on the menu, with Maidstone brewer's Goachers being a firm favourite.

Apart from crisps and nuts, the Red Lion doesn't serve food, but Doris was always quite happy for people to sit in the games room and eat their own sandwiches and in summer time, there was always the sheltered garden behind the pub. The other thing for lovers of traditional pubs to note is the toilets are outside!

I have known the pub for many years, and whilst I don't visit it as often as I’d like, I do so whenever the opportunity arises. An excellent pub like this is not the sort of place to drive to, (for obvious reasons), but equally it is not somewhere which is readily served by public transport, because of its isolated situation. However, with a little forethought and slightly more effort, it is entirely possible to enjoy more than a few pints in the Red Lion without getting behind the wheel and breaking the law.

The Marsh-Link rail-line runs from Ashford, across Romney Marsh, down to Rye and eventually on to Hastings. I have walked to the Red Lion from both Ham Street and Appledore stations; sometimes across country from the former and along the road from the latter. However, the 30 minutes walk, from Appledore station, along the busy B2080, is not particularly recommended and sometimes requires quick-witted action to avoid speeding motorists who seem to regard the road as a race track. An OS Map though, will allow the keen walker to take the far more pleasant and scenic cross-country route from Ham Street station.

Games room - Red Lion

Although I am an infrequent visitor to the pub, there are plenty of tales I could recount of my experiences at the Red Lion. It’s the sort of pub where everyone gets drawn into the conversation, and like as not you will meet some real characters there.In view of Doris’s passing I will save these tales for another time, as for the moment thoughts must be with Kate and other family members and friends. As I mentioned earlier, the Red Lion is currently closed, but I am sure CAMRA’s WhatPub website will provide details of when it eventually re-opens.

In the meantime why not raise a glass to a lady who was one of the longest serving licensees in Kent, and whose name will live on as the unofficial title of the wonderful pub she ran for so long.

Photos - Ashford, Folkestone & Romney Marsh CAMRA; http://theromneymarsh.net; Paul Bailey.

My First London Pub Crawl - Part Two

In this concluding part of my tale about the London Pub Crawl a friend and I undertook 40 years ago, we catch up with the pair of us snoozing in Hyde Park, after a rather heavy lunchtime session. With just two pubs to go I look back and reflect on how awful the first beer of a renewed session always tastes, after an enforced afternoon break!

The name "Queen's Elm" can just be seen on the stonework.

"Six or seven pints is enough for anyone at lunchtime, and would absolutely slaughter me today, but when you're 19 years old, with  the world still at your feet, you can abuse your body in this fashion from time to time and get away with it! We adjourned to nearby Hyde Park for a lie down on the grass, to sleep off our surfeit of ale. Presumably we also ate at some stage during this interlude, although I don't recall anything about this.

I obviously don’t over-indulge to such an extent these days, but I do remember similar past occasions, before the advent of all day opening. The trouble is when you start drinking again the first pint always tastes atrocious. If you have been asleep as well, this effect is exaggerated, and the first pint will taste doubly foul. Whether that was the case back then is lost in the mists of time, but after waking up, we caught the tube to South Kensington and found our way to the Queen's Elm; a Courage pub, known for its literary connections.

My friend and I were used to Courage beers as our home town of Ashford was rather awash with that particular brewer's ales. However, the chance to sample them in their "real" form was a rare treat, as all our local Courage pubs used top-pressure as a means of dispense. We had another reason for visiting the Queen's Elm; namely the opportunity to sample Courage Directors, a beer which was extremely rare in any form, and rumoured to be on the verge of extinction. Unfortunately this legendary ale was not on sale when we arrived at the pub, so we were disappointed in that respect. According to CAMRA’s first (1974) Good Beer Guide, real ale was re-instated at the Queen’s Elm, “By popular demand; aided by a boycott”. The Guide also described the pub as “Basic and smoky”.

We were not disappointed with the Queen’s Elm, and I don’t remember it being excessively smoky. It had bare wooden floors and was decorated with a large collection of pipes mounted on the wall. Unfortunately this attractive old pub ceased trading in the 1990’s, and has now been divided up into a number of retail outlets. The artists, writers and actors who at one time or another frequented the pub; luminaries such as Laurie Lee, Francis Bacon and Richard Harris, would be turning in their graves if they knew that the Queen’s Elm is no more.

Whilst in the pub, we sat at the bar, planning our next move, which was to be a short walk up the road to the Anglesea Arms. The Anglesea was probably the first free house in London to capitalise on the growing interest in "real ale", by offering a selection of beers which could not be found anywhere else in the capital. It was certainly a pioneer in this field, leading the way where others could only follow.

The Anglesea Arms became a regular place of pilgrimage over the next few years and, certainly during my student days, no visit to the capital was complete without a trip to South Kensington in order to see what was on offer there. To walk in through its doors and be greeted with a new set of pump clips was always a pleasure.

Eventually, other London pubs followed suit and the capital became awash with ales from all parts of the country. Possibly for this reason I began to frequent the Anglesea less and less, eventually stopping altogether. I made a point of visiting the Anglesea on a trip to London, a few years ago. The pub remained unspoilt, and the splendid old mirror, advertising Thomas Salt & Co.’s Pale Burton Ales, was still hanging on the wall. There was a selection of comfy chairs to sink into and, of course, the famous outside terrace, scene of many a happy summer’s evening spent enjoying fine ale and good company.

Back in 1974, my friend's guide informed us that the Anglesea Arms had a good selection of hand pumped ales available, including the revered Abbot Ale from Greene King. It was this latter beer that we were particularly keen to sample. Because of the constantly changing variety of beers on offer I am unable to remember which particular beers were on sale at the time of our visit, but I do remember, that Abbot Ale was not on tap that particular day. As it was a warm summer's evening we sat outside in order to enjoy our drink. We hadn’t been there long before my friend got it into his head that we should drink up and take the tube up to High Barnet where, according to his guide, Greene King's one and only London tied house was situated. There we would finally be able to try a pint or two of Abbot Ale!

Interior Anglesea Arms - slightly different 40 years on

 

Time though was marching steadily on and, even in my rather inebriated state, I reckoned that the time necessary to make the journey to this unknown part of London, plus the time it would take to find the pub, would take a good hour or more. On top of this we would probably end up spending at least a further hour in the pub. This, coupled with our return journey to central London, would almost certainly lead to us missing our train back to Kent.

My father was due to collect us from Ashford station that evening. I was certain that he would not appreciate turning out after midnight - even assuming we managed to catch the last train home. In addition, both my friend and I were due at work the following day (we were working as cleaners at a local hospital). My companion took a little more convincing than myself of the folly of his plan, but after a further pint he agreed that our best course was to drink up, make our way via the District Line, to Charing Cross and then take the train back to Kent.

When I finally reached home, I collapsed into bed - the day's excesses having finally caught up with me. Both my friend and I made it into work the following day, although I had the most horrendous hangover imaginable! It was a splendid day out though, and the trip definitely wetted my appetite for further such visits. My interest in exploring the pubs of London had thus been awakened in a big way; an interest which I am happy to say remains to this day."

Why I Won't Be Supporting CAMRA's Mild in May Campaign

We’re fast approaching the month of May, and as many CAMRA members, particularly the older ones, will know “May is a Mild Month”. I’m not talking about the weather here, especially as temperatures are below the seasonal average for the time of year; instead I’m talking about CAMRA’s longest running campaign, “Mild in May”.

According to the Campaign’s own website - “CAMRA promotes Mild throughout May. This year we are asking the active CAMRA branches to encourage at least one pub in their area to stock at least one Mild during May for the local pub-goers to try. We would also encourage non-active members to speak to their local licensees to see if they would be willing to try some Milds during May”. Well, that’s going to make a huge impact, or not as the case may be!

The idea behind “Make May a Mild Month”, is to draw attention to a style of beer which went into terminal decline during the latter half of the last century, and which despite the successful revival of other once popular styles, such as porter and milk stout continues to be shunned by beer drinkers and enthusiasts. This is despite over 30 years of effort by the Campaign for Real Ale to try and raise the beer’s profile.

I wrote a lengthy article on this very subject, around this time last year, and my views on mild, and CAMRA’s almost obsessional efforts to save it, have not changed. If anything my stance against this ineffective campaign has hardened. The message is not getting through to St Albans and CAMRA blindly churns out the same failed campaign, year after year, without pausing to consider that perhaps the drinking public don’t actually LIKE mild. “Mild in May” is now a totally superfluous campaign which continues more due to habit than anything else.

Whilst not denying that, in their day, some UK milds were very good, many were not, and this is undoubtedly the reason for their decline. Back in the 1970’s quite a few independent family brewers openly admitted that their mild was little more than their ordinary bitter with added caramel. It was also common practice, and one of the brewing trade’s worst kept secrets, that in many pubs, slops from the drip-trays, and other left-over beer were filtered back into the mild barrel! Ugh, no wonder drinkers began deserting the drink in their droves.

Fortunately such sharp practices have ceased and the majority of the surviving milds are brewed to carefully-crafted individual recipes designed to showcase the best aspects of the style. So really these beers should be standing on their own merits and not needing a special campaign to promote them. 

Are images, such as this, really going to persuade drinkers to try mild?

CAMRA of course thinks otherwise, yet is in denial that they are “flogging a dead horse”. Part of the problem, of course, is the poor keeping qualities of mild ale which, given its low ABV and equally low hopping rates, is not really surprising. A cask of mild really needs to be shifted in around three days; otherwise the quality starts to really suffer. This isn’t a problem where a pub puts a cask on specifically for a CAMRA event, but at other times of the year the interest in mild ale just isn’t there.

However noble these local campaigns by individual CAMRA branches might be in raising the profile of mild ale, they are only having a temporary effect, and as soon as the promotion ends, sales slump back down to their previous levels. This is why campaigns such as “Mild in May” are, in the end, doomed to failure. It is not possible to create a demand for a product if the demand isn’t there all year round. CAMRA really would be better off dropping this long-running, out-dated campaign and concentrating its efforts elsewhere. It really is time to recognise that the drinking public has voted with its feet and deserted mild in its droves. Why then should it be worthy of special promotion?

Needless to say, I shan’t be imbibing much mild this May or indeed any other month. Not that there’s much chance of stumbling upon the beer in these parts. Local revered independent Harvey’s do produce small volumes of their Dark Mild throughout the year, and also brew a seasonal 3.0% ABV Light Mild, called Knots of May during this month. However, I find Knots of May pretty insipid, and I am sure I am not alone here. One of two smaller independents also produce the odd drop of mild, but that’s about it, as this part of the country has never been mild territory; at least not since the Second World War.

To me “Mild in May” is nothing more than a habitual and irritating campaign, attempting to revive a style of beer which the drinking public have lost interest in. But then CAMRA loves these sorts of campaigns because it looks as though the organisation is doing something.  Surely it’s time for the penny to drop and realise that over three decades of running a yearly campaign for this beer, which nobody but the most diehard of members wish to drink, have failed to arrest its decline. Talk about the Emperor’s new clothes?

Final word; if a campaign of this nature IS going to be run, why confine it to a specific month? If it wasn’t for the alliteration of “Make May a Mild Month”, then it could be run at other times. March has the same alliteration, of course, but perhaps not the mild weather, but if past years are anything to go by, neither has May!