A Very Short History of Pubs!

Pubs! Boozers! Tafarndai! Alehouses! The local! Whatever you call them, they're places you can go for a drink, a chat, and some warm convivial company. Maybe you go to a pub quiz, or an open mic night, or a gig at your own local.
But the history of the pub goes back literally thousands of years, all the way to the Roman Empire and Britannia's occupation.
Through the Anglo-Saxons to the Medieval Age, to the Evils of Gin, the Victorians and the Industrial Revolution, all the way up to the gastropubs and free house pubs of the modern day, grab a regulation pint (that's 568ml for those of you who are metric!), pull up a stool at the bar, turn down the tv, and join me on a whirlwind history of the boozer!

Iechyd da! Cheers!

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Insta: @littlewelshviking

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The Welsh Viking,
PO Box 821,
YORK,
YO1 0PY,
UK

Editing software: DaVinci Resolve
Camera: Panasonic Lumix GH5
Intro design by @anttimation

[treeflamingo]

This kind of “put me on in the background to learn a thing while you do something with your hands” content is my favorite

[Loweene_Ancalimon]

Obligatory algorithm comment. Will be eating pasta and knitting a slipper, while procrastinating doing the dishes and hanging up laundry. This video was perfectly timed, thanks Jimmy !

[skjaldulfr]

"Think of Barliman Butterbur, " "Think of Jonathan Harker." You know me too well.

[anarchodolly]

The secret to spotting the best pubs is in the quality of the random tat behind the bar. Plenty of pubs are decorated with picturesque but generic junk: old violins and jugs and whatnot, but that means nowt. The good ones are loaded with a selection of weird and idiosyncratic small stuff that the regulars have put there: holiday souvenirs, photos and odd mementoes. My local has, among much else, a tin of Pek processed meat, an Anti-Fascist Action pin-badge, Niall Quinn's autograph, and a stuffed monkey. A plaque at the bar commemorating a deceased regular is also a good sign. It's all the little signs of the place still being the hub of a functional community, and I suspect that is really where pubs are struggling today: local communities are in terminal decline. Between the collapse of heavy industry and the domination of supermarkets the fabric of community has been shredded. Now everyone drives to work somewhere miles from where they live, and then drive to the supermarket for the weekly shopping instead of popping down to the local shops. There's been a lot of complex changes that have resulted in a declining sense of community cohesion and pubs have been a victim of that. Forty years of wage stagnation certainly hasn't helped either.

[badger-]

As a kid I was very confused about having to pay for anything in a pub that said freehouse, I assumed everything would be free. No one could explain what it actually meant and I forgot about it but now I finally know

[martinpfeilsticker]

According to Bill Bailey quoting Chaucer
Three fellowes wenten into a pubbe,
And gleefullye their handes did rubbe,
In expectatione of revelrie,
For 'twas the houre known as happye.
Greate botelles of wine did they quaffe,
And hadde a reallye good laffe.
'Til drunkennesse held full dominione,
For 'twas two for the price of one.
Yet after wine and meade and sac,
Man must have a massive snack,
Great pasties from Cornwalle!
Scottishe eggs round like a balle!
Great hammes, quaile, ducke and geese!
They suck'd the bones and drank the grease!
(One fellowe stood all pale and wan -
for he was vegetarianne)
Yet man knoweth that gluttonie,
Stoketh the fyre of lecherie,
Upon three young wenches round and slye,
The fellowes cast a wanton eye.
One did approach, with drunkene winke:
"'Ello darlin', you fancy a drink?",
Soon they caught them on their knee,
'Twas like some grotesque puppettrie!
Such was the lewdness and debaucherie -
'Twas like a sketch by Dick Emery!
(Except that Dick Emery is not yet borne -
So that comparisonne may not be drawn).
But then the fellowes began to pale,
For quail are not the friende of ale!
And in their bellyes much confusione!
from their throats vile extrusione!
Stinking foule corruptionne!
Came spewinge forth from droolinge lippes,
The fetide stenche did fille the pubbe,
'Twas the very arse of Beelzebubbe!

Thrown they were, from the Horne And Trumpette,
In the street, no coyne, no strumpet.
Homeward bounde, must quicklie go,
To that ende - a donkey stole!
Their handes all with vomit greased,
(The donkey was not pleased,
And threw them into a ditche of shite!)
They all agreed:
"What a brillant night!"

[michellebyrom]

Lots of interesting comments on a great topic. I have to stop reading them due to the lack of self discipline on the replies.
A Japanese friend once asked an Irish friend and myself what's the difference between an English and an Irish pub? We'd both lived in both countries and were hard pushed to find it. Then he pointed out that people talk to you in an Irish pub. I have to agree. English reticence with strangers means that you can be left alone to read a book by the fire. Here in Ireland the book would be seen as an invitation to ask questions. Two very different interpretations of a quiet drink in a convivial atmosphere.

[patavinity]

Something interesting to me is that the rest of the world is full of British- or Irish-style pubs, but they're never quite right. It's just not the same vibe.

[eldorados_lost_searcher]

I've noticed that Editor Jimmy has been more informative and less snarky lately. Either you gave him a raise, or some wall-to-wall counseling may have been employed.

[katwitanruna]

Liked. Shared. Commented. Sent the algorithm to a pub.

[jacobparry]

‘Mae Cymro, taer gyffro twyll,
Yn rhodio yma’n rhydwyll;
Lleidr yw ef, os goddefwn,
‘Mogelwch, cedwch rhag hwn.’

O 'Trafferth Mewn Tafarn' gan Dafydd ap Gwilym

'There's a Welshman, fierce deceitful commotion,
roaming around here most cunningly;
he's a thief, if we allow it,
Watch out, keep clear of him.'
~ From Dafydd ap Gwilym's 'Trouble at a Tavern' (1300s)

The full poem, translated:

I came to a choice town
followed by my handsome page-boy.
Fine merry expense, an excellent place for dinner,
4 I took a pretty dignified public lodging,
I was a proud / fine young man,
and I had some wine.
I spotted a fair slender maid
8 in the house, my one fair sweetheart.
I set my mind entirely upon
my slender darling, colour of the rising sun,
I bought roast and expensive wine,
12 (not to show off) [for] me and the beauty over there.
Young men love playing games,
I called the girl, a modest maid, to [me on] the bench,
and we had a very grand dinner,
16 greater than a wedding feast.
I whispered (I was a bold diligent man,
that's for sure) two alluring words.
After the obstacle was cleared
20 by the whispering (close fate),
I made an agreement (love was not idle / easy)
to come to the lovely girl
when the crowds had gone
24 to sleep; she was a dark-browed beauty.

When everyone except me and the girl
had gone to sleep (exceedingly piteous),
I tried most adeptly to make my way
28 to the girl's bed, [but] it turned out disastrously.
I had a nasty fall making a commotion there,
there were no good feats.
I hurt my shin (my poor leg!),
32 I didn't jump safely, above the ankle,
on the edge of a stupid shrill stool,
because of the inn-keeper.
I hit my forehead (excessive desire is bad),
36 where I ended up, without any free leap,
frequent confusion of wild crashing,
on the end of the table,
where there was a loose basin now
40 and a noisy brass pan.
The table fell, a heavy piece,
and the two trestles and all the utensils.
The pan let out a clang,
44 it could be heard a long way behind me.
The basin boomed (I was a vain man)
and the dogs barked.

It's easier to get up awkwardly
48 (foolish wickedness) than swiftly.
I came up (it was a remorseful tale)
— Welshmen love me! —
by thick walls where there were
52 three Englishmen in one stinking bed
worrying about their three packs,
Hickin and Jenkin and Jack.
The churlish slobber-chops
56 (cruel hate) hissed to the [other] two:

'There's a Welshman, fierce deceitful commotion,
roaming around here most cunningly;
he's a thief, if we allow it,
60 watch out, keep clear of him.'

The inn-keeper roused up all the host,
and it was a woeful tale.
Nine at a time they searched for me
64 scowling all around me,
whilst I, covered in painful bruises,
kept quiet in the darkness.
I prayed, not in fearless fashion,
68 in hiding, like one afraid,
and through the power of dear sincere prayer,
and through the grace of Jesus,
I got back (sleepless confusion)
72 without any gain to my own lair.
I escaped (thank goodness that saints are close by),
I beg to God for forgiveness.

[inkymunster]

Drinking tea and enjoying this.
Diolch Jimmy, you are part of my life now, like it or not.
Note to overseas visitors ....
If you are in an inn on moorland in the middle of nowhere and the locals advise you to keep to the path, KEEP TO THE PATH. 🐺

[yobgodababua]

I've always loved the word "publican", for some reason. It's just a cool name for a profession.

[deehappy]

Love the old wood in that pub!! Having strong sense memory of old wood rooms smelling of barley and hops

[cennethadameveson]

Some pubs were used to hold inquests. I have a newspaper report of a relative being layed out in the bar while witnesses gave evidence to the coroner.

[jonathangoll]

I think CAMRA ( the Campaign for Real Ale) deserves an honourable mention. This has over the years acted as an advocacy group for better beer. I recommend its 'Guide to Real Ale ' to find pubs with good beer.
The George at Stamford, Lincolnshire was on the Great North Road. It was tremendously a travellers' Inn, and has a long line of available stables.
The Skirrid, in the Black Mountains (in Gwent?) is a classic case of a pub being used a courthouse. They even hanged people on the premises!
In the 1940s my mother lodged in a little pub in a small town near Manchester. She remembers her landlady having to make sure that occasionally somebody - apart from the lodger - stayed the night, to continue the establishment being able to be called an 'Inn'.
I live in the Black Country in the West Midlands. The men used to work in very labour-intensive industries, and they used to drink like fishes! So there was a pub round every corner.
Until about the 1980s or 1990s strong Methodist traditions made it difficult to open a pub on a new site in Birmingham.
The Vindolanda 'Tablets', such a wonderful guide to the everyday Roman life on Hadrian's Wall, often refer to 'cerevissa'. (Compare Spanish 'cerveza'.) This is a Celtic word, and is often translated as ' Celtic Beer'. Apparently all sorts of thingswere added to the Ale, such as Meadowsweet. Later the fruit of the service-tree was added; I'm told that an ale-house that did this was often called 'Chequers'.
I'm English, but I confess I hang on to every word Jimmy speaks in Welsh. It's so great to hear a native Welsh speaker.

[cuttwice]

Lloyds of London started out as a coffee house.

[roxiepoe]

It took my kind host a full week of evenings - including watching televised events - to explain Cricket to me. I find trying to explain the pub/bar/inn system in England, as I knew it 30 years ago, equally difficult! (I live in USA.) When you stir in the casual misinformation in television - it is almost impossible. Thank you for a clear and lucid outline.

[MissNemo]

I think this phenomenon is very much related to the debate over 3rd places. For those who don't know, in architecture the 1st place is your home, 2nd place your work and the 3rd place is where you go to have fun and where communities flourish. The disappearance of 3rd places are signs of failing communities and culture decay. Very interesting dive if you have a couple hours to spare. There are some great videos here on yt on this subject.

[ChristopherDraws]

In the section about pubs having lots of different community uses, another I'd add to that is celebrating weddings - there's usually a pub located close to a church (given both were central to village/town activity), so at least for the working class, the wedding party would end up at the pub to celebrate!
Also, you mention being able to smoke in beer gardens - correct at time of publishing, but likely not for much longer.
Thanks for the video.