Courage’s 1960s modernist pub building frenzy

Courage built a lot of new pubs in the period of economic rejuvenation after World War II, as documented in a volume held at Bristol’s central library.

A few weeks ago a special exhibition was laid on at the library on the subject of beer and pubs. Items from the reference collection were put on display in an ornate wood-panelled room and visitors were invited to shuffle round and have a nose about.

We visited and were drawn at once to a hefty hardback volume collecting together editions of The Golden Cockerel, the house magazine of Courage, Barclay & Simonds, formed in 1960 when Courage acquired Simonds of Reading.

These particular issues of the magazine were from 1962 to 1964 and seemed to include a remarkable number of pub openings.

The Treble Chance, Southmead, Bristol

The issue for winter 1962 contained news of the opening of The Treble Chance on the Southmead estate.

It was opened by G.H. Boucher, former director of Bristol United Breweries, and father of A.R. Boucher, the chairman of CBS’s West Country division.

“Mr G.H. Boucher remarked that, although he had been to a number of new houses and attended many openings, he had never come across a more attractive new public house than this one. He complimented the architects who had designed the house and Messrs. C.H. Pearce & Sons Limited who had built it, and was very confident that, in the Treble Chance, Courages had a winner.”

There’s something quite quaint in the traditions attached to the opening of new pubs, even very modern ones, on very modern estates. ‘Ale conners’ tasted the beer, an ale-garland was hoisted, the inn sign was unveiled, and a toast was proposed.

For the record, the architects were CBS’s own in-house team under the direction of N.E. Morley, DSC, FRIBA, and the publicans at the time of opening were Patricia Whiteford and her husband Maurice.

The Treble Chance is notable because it’s one of only a handful of post-war pubs that survives in Bristol. We drank there in March 2023 and, though it was quite friendly, it had certainly lost any trace of mid-century modernism.

Four new pubs in London and Kent

The spring 1963 issue of The Golden Cockerel has a bumper feature covering the opening of four pubs:

• The Diver, Holborn
• The Pill Box, Lambeth
• The Beauty of Bath, Sittingbourne, Kent
• The Crusader, Ashford, Kent

The Diver was in the ground floor of an office block owned by Pearl Assurance, hence the name. It had a glitzy saloon bar and a substantial food offer intended to appeal to office workers. Its manager was Mr G.W. Biswell.

It is now Bar Polski and, yes, when you look at it, you can see the building is a pure product of the early 1960s. (We also drank here in the noughties, more than once, at the height of Jess’s obsession with Poland.)

The Pill Box was part of the redevelopment of St Thomas’s Hospital and hoped to attract both doctors and MPs, with a Division Bell to be installed in the bar:

“The manager, Mr Pomerand, informs me that it is possible to get from the bar to the Lobby of the House of Commons in four minutes; as six minutes are allowed by Law this should give our member time to finish his drink before starting.”

We vaguely remember The Pill Box in its later incarnation as The Florence Nightingale. It was demolished in 2007.

The Beauty of Bath was named after a variety of apple but the licensee ran a pub on the estate of the Marquis of Bath and so wangled his presence for the opening ceremony. The publicans were one E. William and his wife. It’s apparently still trading.

The Crusader was quite a cool looking pub with an oversized gable and weatherboarding. It was named in reference to The Saracen’s Head, an older inn that stood in the town centre:

“Much as we hope that the future regulars of the Crusader will be proud of their house, we sincerely hope that their local pride will confine itself to darts matches with their traditional enemies of the twelfth century, the Saracens!”

Oh dear.

The Crusader is still trading, sort of, as The Fish Inn, with part of the pub converted to a kebab shop.

Intermission: ‘Launching a new public house’

If we’d had a copy of N.E. Morley’s essay when we were researching 20th Century Pub back in 2015-17, we’d have definitely quoted from it.

He was an architect and ‘properties technical director’ for CBS. The article was written for The Financial Times but reprinted in The Golden Cockerel in spring 1963.

He explains that building new pubs was challenging because costs had risen, and “customers are more discriminating and higher standards of finishes and decorations are required”:

“In both new and existing houses the constant problem exists in the standards expected by the general public in search of relaxation. In Victorian times the public house offered escapism from the dismal surroundings of overcrowded industrial housing by means of light, warmth, noise. These elementary necessities were sufficient in those days but the change of outlook brought about by better education and an improvement of living conditions has meant that the garishness must be replaced by comfort, the raucousness by an atmosphere of genial conviviality and the complete surroundings being as good as or better than the modern furnishings and fittings in the customers’ own home.”

How can that be achieved?

“Plastics in all forms such as synthetic fibres for upholstery and such materials as Wareite and Formica in the general internal decorative scheme provide not only hygienic surfaces, easily cleaned, but of a lasting quality requiring little maintenance.”

And you certainly have to admire his optimism:

“The new towns and housing estates provide the opportunity for the re-establishment of the public house as a social centre, a communal meeting ground where new inhabitants can get to know their neighbours. Although still not accepting the bar as being the place for all members of the family, garden facilities, good catering and rooms for private functions and parties take the English public house a stage nearer the ideal of being a centre providing for all the needs of a medium sized community rather than a mere drinking house.”

The Discovery, Cardiff

“A fascinating large-scale map of Antarctica with all the routes taken by the various expeditions makes an unusual ceiling in the ‘Terra Nova’ bar which also has on its walls photographs of Scott’s journey to the South Pole.”

So begins a double-page spread on the first CBS pub to be built in Cardiff, on a private housing estate near the Scott memorial in nearby Roath Park.

The architect was CBS’s own R.E. Southall under the guidance of Mr. Morley (above). It was opened by A.R. Boucher with various local dignitaries doing the ale-garland business and ale conning. The manager was Howard Selway, who learned the trade managing The Yew Tree in the new town of Cwmbran.

The pub is not only still trading but has quite a nice website.

Three pubs in ‘the central area’

The Turnpike at Booker, High Wycombe was originally to be called ‘The Happy Sandboy’ (meaning) but the locals protested that there was no local connection in the name.

More than 300 people signed a petition lobbying for it to be called The Turnpike, and so it was.

When this pub opened in November 1962, ‘Miss Harp’ was in attendance, along with a coachman in top hat and red coat tooting on a horn. The managers were a couple called Randall.

It is now a Tesco Express.

The Fir Cone opened on the Larchfield Estate in Maidenhead in December 1962. This time, CBS invited the public to suggest names, and 81-year-old Albert Dean won a cash prize and three dozen bottles of Courage beer for coming up with this one. The managers were the Sewells.

It was closed and demolished in 2004, having just passed its 40th birthday.

Finally, Cooper’s Wine Bar opened in the centre of Reading as “a comfortable meeting place for business men” with a “wide range of Kinloch wines… to go with excellent snacks, including oysters in season”.

It was decorated by Mr. R. Howie, the group furnishing consultant:

“He has aimed at an atmosphere of solid, sophisticated comfort, which is reflected in the mahogany bar counter, the original yet unobtrusive green and gold wallpaper and the Turner water colours hanging on the walls.”

The manageress was Mrs. W. G. Dewell.

The Double Century, George Green, Buckinghamshire

This pub was opened in April 1963 and was named to celebrate 200 years of Harman’s Uxbridge Brewery… which Courage had just taken over and would wind up in 1964.

It replaced a 300-year-old pub called The Green Man which was demolished during a road widening scheme:

“The house is well situated on the Slough-Uxbridge main road, and with its spacious car park and neat white appearance, relieved by gaily coloured awnings over the window, is sure to catch the eye of every passing motorist.”

The licensees were Fred Fisher and his nameless wife.

The Rugby Tavern, Twickenham

Courage had planned to build a new pub next to Twickenham station before the war, to replace The Rugby House, but those plans ended up on hold.

They were eventually asked to surrender the site for a new development and took, instead, a section of a large office block.

It was decorated throughout in honour of rugby club Harlequins F.C.:

“The downstairs bar has been named after the Harlequins and the carpet has been specially woven to incorporate the Club colours against a black background. The wrought iron screen which divides the bar counter also features the Harlequin motif and the counter has some Rugby footballs incorporated in the design… The striking mural in this bar depicts Sir Wavell Wakefield, the famous Harlequin and England international, scoring a try against Wales at Cardiff in 1926.”

The architect was R.E. Southall with interior decor by R. Howie and R. Hamblin of the furnishings department. The tenants were N.A. Dongray and his nameless wife, who moved across from The Rugby House.

It’s still there, in quite good nick for a post-war building of its age, and now called ‘Shack 68’.

The Maytree, Headley Park, Bristol

This pub opened in South Bristol in December 1963 and the occasion was marked with the planting of a tree by Douglas McMillan, superintendent of parks and gardens for the city.

It had apparently taken years to get permission to build a pub at Headley Park and A.R. Boucher – him again – said:

“We hope local people will like it, consider that it was worth waiting for and, of course, use it.”

The manager was Mr Bunting, who wore his old Bristol Grammar School tie for the opening ceremony.

The Maytree is still trading – another rare post-war survivor in Bristol.

The Minstrel, Finchley

This was another December 1963 opening. It was part of an eight-story office block built on the site of a Victorian pub, The Railway Hotel, and was provided to Courage as an empty shell.

Courage men E.H. Turner and W. Lister then fitted out the interior.

It had an open kitchen so customers could watch their steaks being cooked. Its floors were carpeted with lino surrounds, the walls were in Iroko wood, and the counters were finished with Parana pine.

The managers were A.I. Thomson and, of course, his nameless wife.

Two more for ‘64

A pair of new pubs opened within 11 days of each other in Courage’s West Country region.

The Mail Coach was a big modern pub on the edge of the Broadmead shopping centre in Bristol – nowadays, a notably publess part of town.

It was designed by the in-house team under N.E. Morley, and was managed by A.E. Walder.

It is long gone, demolished to make way for the new Cabot Circus shopping centre. Although a former manager commenting on Flickr suggests it would probably have fallen down anyway.

The opening of The Devon Yeoman at Whipton, Exeter, was attended by two gunners in period uniform and a 25-pound field gun:

“This was not fired, however, since the effect would have been to shatter every window in the vicinity.”

It was another Morley-supervised job, opened by A.R. Boucher, and managed by C. Reeve.

A pair of London pubs

The Cricketers opened in Feltham, West London, in June 1964 and was a particularly box-like modernist building that looked more like a carpet showroom than a pub.

It was part of the redevelopment of Feltham high street, with an upper floor that jutted out on mosaic-covered columns over an ornamental pool.

It had two bars, the Longstop and the Outfield, on the ground floor; a “foyer bar” and cocktail bar upstairs; and a restaurant capable of seating 145 people. It had moveable partitions that could be rearranged to create different spaces for events.

It was run by A.R. Lott and – gasp! – his wife Betty, who did have a name.

It is still there and now part of the Wetherspoon chain under the name The Moon on the Square, in faux Victorian style.

In central London, at Paddington, The Gondolier opened in July, as part of the London County Council’s Warwick Crescent redevelopment, near the canal and Little Venice.

The building is still there, converted into rather a cool looking modernist house in London stock brick.

The Harriers and The Antelope, Bristol

“What I like about Courages… is the way that they combine ancient and modern.”

Those were the words of Captain Douglas Wills, Master of the Clifton Foot Harriers – a hunting club – on the occasion of the opening of a pub on the then new Hartcliffe estate in July 1964

The Harriers was Hartcliffe’s fifth Courage pub and was named after Captain Wills’s club which used to meet on nearby Dundry Hill. The licensee was Leslie Goodman.

The very next day, in that same July, The Antelope opened at Hengrove. It was named after an old inn which once stood on the city centre site of the Broadmead shopping centre. Its tenants were Victor Shore and, yes, his nameless wife.

Both pubs were designed by the Courage Architects’ Department and both were demolished not long into the 21st century.

What a lot of pubs

That’s 19 pubs in just a couple of years, not including refits and relaunches. That’s not bad going.

What’s also remarkable is how many survive, including some we’d have betted any money would be gone before we checked.

Those that are gone, and their short lives, tell us something about the poor quality of some post-war construction.

As Mr. Morley hints at in his essay, they worked with the materials they could get, creating surface level shine on essentially flimsy structures.