Friday’s ad is for Schlitz, from the 1950s. Featuring a decked-out woman of leisure relaxing by the pool, appointed with fashionable digs and seemingly expensive accessories on the table in front of her and, most importantly, drinking a Schlitz. The tagline, “one of the finer things of life!,” tells you everything you need to know about why her hand is on her hip. She definitely a “have,” not one of those “have nots.”
Thursday’s ad is for Rheingold Beer, from 1959, featuring Miss Rheingold for that year, Robbin Bain. Showing great form on the bowling alley, and with the tagline “and follow through with Rheingold!,” as the bowls begins its journey down the lane. A strike? A gutter ball? Who knows, get me a beer.
I found this entertaining infographic about the effects of Prohibition, entitled “Prohibition Did What?!”
Click here to see the infographic full size.
Wednesday’s ad is from around 1897, and appears to be a poster known as “The Beerometer.” It was created by a J.H. Clifton, though I’ve been unable to find any information about him or the Beerometer itself.
Here’s an interesting historical piece, from 1819-20. It was a four-volume set of books known as “Remarkable Persons,” though its full title was “Portraits, Memoirs, and Characters of Remarkable Persons From the Revolution in 1688 to the End of the Reign of King George II” and was subtitled “Collected from the most authentic accounts extant.” The full collection is available digitally at the Villanova University’s Farley Memorial Library, who describes the work as follows:
This collection contains the four volumes of: Portaits, memoirs, and characters, of remarkable persons: from the revolution in 1688 to the end of the reign of George II collected from the most authentic accounts extant by James Caulfield. “Caulfield’s ‘remarkable characters’ are persons famous for their eccentricity, immorality, dishonesty, and so forth.” — Dict. nat. biog. This work contains 155 engraved plates including work by engravers: George Cruikshank, W. Maddocks, Henry B. Cook, Robert Graves, and Gerard van der Gucht.
Another sources claims that it was a “collection of portraits and stories about the eccentrics of Britain in the 18th century by James Caulfield was issued by subscription in 1819 and 1820 to great success. It promised to satisfy the public fascination with ‘true stories’ about exceptional feats, physical peculiarities and notorious acts. The extent to which it actually contained ‘true stories’ is a matter for conjecture.” The one that caught my eye was a 19th century publican.
Plate 19 in Volume 3 depicts “Cornelius Caton, (Of the White Lion Richmond),” followed by his story on pages 173 through 175. Here’s his colorful story:
This little whimsical publican, having passed through the several gradations of pot-boy, , helper in the stables, and other menial offices attached to a public inn, at length rose to the important place of principal waiter: being of a complaisant temper, and possessing a species of low wit and pleasantry, he rendered himself so acceptable to the humour of the different guests which frequented the house, as to derive considerable perquisites from his ready desire to serve and accomodate the various description of persons whom business or pleasure drew to the place.
Caton carefully treasured up the money he obtained from time to time; until he had saved a sufficient sum to enable him to take the White-Lion public-house, at Richmond, in Surrey. The drollery of the landlord brought him considerable custom, which his attention to business so far improved as to make his house the most frequented of any in Richmond; and he became a general favourite with most of the inhabitants.
In person, he was one of the most grotesque appearance; and might have gained a livelihood bu exhibiting himself as a dwarf; this, joined with a certain oddity of manner, rendered him so conspicuous a character, as to bring him into great notice; and Cornelius Caton, and his house, found visitors from most parts of the adjacent villages in the neighbourhood.
He was well known to many persons in London; and, among others, George Bickham, the engraver, who deemed him of sufficient importance to speculate on engraving and publishing his portrait. This did not tend to diminish the number of Caton’s friends: and many have made a journey from town to Richmond, merely from curiosity of seeing the landlord of the White Lion.
A few years since, an equally singular personage, named Davis, a true son of Sir John Barleycorn, kept the Load-of-Hay public-house, on Haverstock-hill, near Hampstead; the eccentricity of whose personal appearance brought a considerable number of persons, particularly on a Sunday afternoon, and made the house a place of great trade.
Cornelius Caton was living at the time of his present majesty’s ascension to the throne, but the print of him was engraved in the reign of King George the Second.
You can see the original pages at Villanova digitalLibrary. Click on Volume 3 and scroll down to just before page 173, which is Plate 19.
Tuesday’s ad is for Schlitz, from 1951, showing a man who’s quite literally painted himself into a corner. But given that the title of the ad is “Situation well in hand!” I think he meant to do that, specifically so he could stop and enjoy a beer, or more, while he waited for the floor to dry. Good plan, don’t you think?
Monday’s ad is for George Younger’s Alloa Brewery in Scotland, from 1953. It uses a great illustration by an artist from Edinburgh identified as “MacKay,” depicting a scene from Tam O’Shanter, a poem by Robert Burns. Here’s what one source had to say about the ad:
There were at least nine breweries in Alloa during the 1900s producing a variety of ales for home and export trades. Alloa was well positioned, with a good water supply, close to local supplies of barley and good sea transport links. Alloa ale was sent to London and George Younger had an extensive export trade in the West Indies, Egypt and the Far East. Alloa was also famed for its lager, Alloa Brewery Co developing Graham’s Golden Lager in 1925 and renamed Skol in the 1950s. Closures and mergers in the 1950s and 1960s reduced the number of breweries to 2 and by 1999 there was one, The Forth Brewery.
Anchor Brewing has a fun new video up about the artist who’s drawn nearly all of their Christmas Ale labels, Jim Stitt.
Anchor Brewing Company tells the story of our label artist Jim Stitt. Jim has had a hand in nearly every Anchor label since the 1970’s and hand draws a new tree each year for the Anchor Christmas Ale Label. Jim Stitt, Fritz Maytag, and Dave Burkhart collectively tell the story of a huge part of Anchor’s history.
A few years ago, the San Francisco Chronicle had an article about Stitt, as well.
I love seeing which tree is chosen for the label each year and seeing the new poster showing all of the ones done since the beer debuted in 1975.
This year’s tree is a Norfolk Island pine. According to Anchor, “Captain Cook discovered this South Seas isle and its native tree in 1774. These tropical-looking conifers, which thrive in sandy soil and coastal climes, were first planted in California in the 1850s.”
Friday’s ad is one of the later in the “Beer Belongs” series, after they stopped numbering them, created by the old Brewers Association. Just like right now in Northern California, pouring rain stopped then from working outside so they decided to just sit awhile and enjoy some beer. Good decision.
Thursday’s ad is for Spaten, from the 1920s. It’s a simple ad with a beautiful illustration. I’m getting thirsty just looking at it.
