If I owned a
pub, I would know all about the history of the place.
When I asked the bar staff at the Eastcote Arms for
some information, printed or otherwise, they just
said, “Here is a business card, it has a picture
of the pub on it.” Well, that did not help much.
Don't they realize
that the village pub beats the drum of time? Don't
they understand how today's pubs pump blood through
the social bloodstreams of rural England? This pub
had welcomed the villagers since 1670! Over four hundred
years! If a generation fails to remember, how can
the next generation learn? Write it down and send
it to me!
Anyway, they were
friendly enough and we certainly felt more welcome
in this pub than in the last one, but it had something
of a sterile feel to it, compared to other country
pubs. Compared to some city pubs, it was at least
competitive in that regard. There seemed a lot of
floor space for a few chairs, which in some cases
is a sign that some nights the locals like to dance,
but in this pub, it seemed more like they rarely filled
enough seats to justify the expense of furniture purchases.
Beer was moderate, the cider at least drinkable.
If this was in
the village where I lived, or was the next village
over, or we had walked to it, the Eastcote Arms would
receive our ‘Acceptable’ stamp. As it
was we had meandered our way through tortuous country
lanes through the most obscure parts of Northamptonshire,
so it is unlikely that we would return in the foreseeable
future.
We again had the
discussion on music in pubs. These are pubs, not bars
and people do not come to pubs to listen to music.
Hearing music in the background is one thing, but
having the choice forced upon you by having speakers
hanging over the tables blaring obnoxiously is simply
not in the spirit of pubs. The White Horse plays a
little background music, but it does nothing more
than smooth out the general noise of the pub. The
loudest was probably the Rat & Parrot in Woking,
or maybe the Volunteer in London. Technically the
loudest was the Thwaite Arms in Horsehouse, but that
was only because the landlord was actually listening
to some classical music over the pub=s speaker system
before any punters arrived.
Northamptonshire
always has be a good place for hunting down pubs.
When the first formal count of pubs (actually ‘Inns,
Taverns and Alehouses’) was carried out in 1577,
it was found that there were over 2,100 inns in England,
and Northamptonshire accounted for a disproportionately
high 15% of those.
So what exactly
is the difference between these inns, taverns and
alehouses, now collectively lumped together as ‘pubs’?
The historical writer Peter Clark categorizes them
thus: Inns were large, fashionable establishments,
serving wine, beer and ale with elaborate offerings
of food and extensive accommodation, catering mainly
to the upper-classes; Taverns served mostly wines
and spirits but offered no accommodation; while Alehouses,
by far the most widespread type of drinking establishment,
were generally small premises, serving ale, beer and
basic food, as well as offering rudimentary accommodation,
and mostly serving the lower classes.
Part of these
descriptions holds true today, with new titles being,
respectively; Inns, Wine Bars, and Pubs. The significant
change of course (and one that will be mentioned again
in this text) is that the businesses are no longer
so class-conscious, or at least as indiscriminating
as they can be in a class-based society like England.