Burton upon Trent’s remarkable expansion to become the acknowledged beer capital of the world in the 1880s was due to its remarkably mineral-rich water and its proximity, initially, to the canal system and then the railway system, enabling it to move its products, famed for keeping its taste after enduring long journeys, to the nation’s ports and beyond, principally India. Even though the railways offered a quicker form of transport than canals and the network was expanding as quickly as it could to meet demand, the railway companies struggled to cope with the volume of beer that the town’s brewers were producing.
To ease the problem, brewers started buying up or renting premises dotted around the country in which to store their barrels. Some still exist, one belonging to Bass Breweries is located in the undercroft of the Forth Banks Goods, south of Newcastle city centre. Travellers using the Eurostar service from London’s St Pancras may spot some iron columns in the waiting area which belonged to a beer storage area opened in 1868.
However, the problems associated with success were soon to be overshadowed by an almost existential threat. The water that had made Burton’s beer so distinctive had a particular whiff about it, known as the “Burton snatch”, which clearly indicated the presence of sulphur. The chemist, C W Vincent, after analysing the town’s water, concluded that its calcium sulphate was responsible for accentuating the bitterness of the hops which made Burton’s Indian Pale Ale so characteristic.
This discovery opened the door for other brewers not based in the environs of Burton to emulate the hoppy bitterness of the town’s ale by a process known as Burtonisation. By adding mineral salts, particularly calcium sulphate or gypsum to brewing water accentuated the hop bitterness, lowered the mash pH, and added clarity to the brew, enabling brewers anywhere in the world to replicate the quality and keeping properties of Burton’s beers.
By the early 20th century Burton’s pre-eminence as the brewing capital of the world was under threat. By 1911 the number of brewers in the town had shrunk to 17 and the First World War, with its drain on men to fight on the front line, the shortage of raw materials and the onerous regulations imposed on the wartime drink trade added to the strain, even though women were drafted in to make up the labour shortage. The decline continued and by 1950 only five brewers were left.
Even the brewers who had withstood the competition had to adapt quickly, introducing more automation and moving from wood to steel, resulting in the need for fewer labourers and skilled craftsmen. Ancillary business that fed the brewing industry were also affected. Perhaps the quickest and steepest decline was experience by the town’s coopers because within the space of five years breweries had switched from wooden to steel-lined wood to steel barrels. Many buildings were demolished, although the Bass water tower in the centre of the town still remains, and others were converted into industrial premises.
Burton, though, still remains a significant brewing centre, the Canadian-American conglomerate, Molson Coors, operating their producing beers such as Carling, Grolsch, and Coors, while a healthy number of microbreweries have sprung up in recent years, operating out of heritage brewing premises, such as Burton Bridge, Black Hole, Tower, Thornbridge, and Outwoods amongst others.
Burton beer also made its mark in another way. The phrase “gone for a Burton”, popularized by World War Two pilots to refer to a colleague who had gone on a mission but had failed to return, referred to the town’s ale. The poor unfortunate went for a pint but failed to return, making light of something that was, sadly, all too commonplace.
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