Search This Blog

Monday, 3 June 2019

Behind the Bar - Barrels, Beer Kegs, and Bung Starters


How did small-town Saskatchewan hotels serve beer in the early 1900s? It started with the shipment of wooden beer barrels by train to the hotels, unloaded on the railway station platform. The Bulyea local history book, Between Long Lake and Last Mountain (1982), recounts a story about two local farmers who crawled under the train platform “armed with a brace and bit, a washtub, and several buckets.” When the hotel owner arrived to pick up his delivery, he was dismayed to find an empty barrel.

Barrel terminology. Source

Because they had to stand up to pressure and liquid (and the occasional tampering), beer barrels were lined with pitch and made of thicker, good quality wood. The barrel was filled by the brewery through a bung hole. Once filled, a plug was hammered into the hole, sealing the barrel. 

Source
 
Star-Phoenix, June 1, 1948
Opening the beer barrel presented a challenge to many a hotel barkeep. They used what was called a “bung starter” – a heavy wooden mallet – to drive the wooden plug, bit by bit, up and out of the bung hole. Bill Graham, head bartender at the Great West Hotel in Davidson during the pre-1915 days, told the Star-Phoenix on June 1, 1948 that he had driven many a faucet pump into a keg of beer with a bung starter. Unless you were quick, Graham recalled, beer sprayed all over the place. “I got pretty good with that old bung starter,’ he said. “People would stand around and watch me with their mouths open.” The heavy bung starter also served as an excellent weapon for a beleaguered bartender.

To keep beer cool, many small-town hotels used ice that had been cut from local lakes or rivers. For the hotel at Fairlight, for example, this meant replenishing the ice in the draft beer cabinet on a daily basis and checking the storage of beer kegs in the basement cooler two or three times a week. Other hotels kept ice in an icehouse, packed in layers of sawdust.

During Prohibition, it was not unusual for hotel owners to keep a barrel or two of booze hidden away in the basement of their establishments. In 1925, police raided the Cecil Hotel in Moose Jaw. As the officers entered the hotel, they saw the man behind the bar pull a string. “The officers darted to the basement and attacked a lock cabinet, where they found a small keg overflowing with water driven into it at high pressure,” the Regina Leader-Post reported on February 3rd. “There was, of course, a smell of beer about the place.” The hotel had installed a beer keg apparatus – alleged to have been invented to defeat liquor enforcement methods – consisting of a double spigot connected to the water main. The pulling of a string flooded the keg and removed the beer within seconds.

Regina Leader-Post, February 26, 1935

In 1935, when the Government of Saskatchewan permitted hotels to sell beer by the glass, Saskatchewan’s hotels scrambled to reopen their beer parlours. This required a major outlay of cash for the hotel owners to meet the government’s rigorous architectural and regulatory standards for licensing. In addition to building renovations and new furniture, hotels had to install new drawing systems for beer, refrigeration equipment, and draft beer cabinets. “A 25-table beer parlour will require the most modern beer pumps, a cooling system, and cabinets,” the Leader-Post wrote on December 4, 1934. “It will need 100 chairs, at least 400 glasses and an insulated storage cellar.” This equipment cost thousands of dollars per hotel. Saskatchewan suppliers did well. The Saskatoon Star-Phoenix reported on April 8, 1935 that Sterling Millwork Company and Cushing’s Limited had many orders for tabletops and refrigerators, and the John East Foundry was manufacturing $8,000 worth of table bases.

Ad in the Star-Phoenix, April 30, 1935

1935 was also a boom year for beer keg manufacturers. The Leader-Post reported on May 4 that one Regina brewery acquired 2,900 kegs for its new draft beer business. Of these, 800 were steel, “the newest wrinkle in the keg business.” The remainder were wooden kegs which cost the breweries about $8 apiece; the steel kegs, which had an insulated aluminum lining, cost around $12. “Handling of the empties by the breweries entails a lot of work, the newspaper wrote. “They must be sterilized and repitched each time they go back to the brewery.”

With the outbreak of the Second World War, metal beer kegs were prohibited due to the war effort, but metal hoops and fittings were still allowed on wooden kegs.

Eventually, bottled beer became popular and draft beer sales declined. Today, draft beer is enjoying a comeback thanks to craft breweries.

A 1980s bar set-up, with bartender serving draft beer. Leader-Post, July 2, 1987.

©Joan Champ, 2019

Thursday, 16 May 2019

Catastrophe at the Macoun Hotel


 This is an expanded version of an earlier post on this blog. Click here for Hotel Fires.


Macoun's hotel was built in 1905 by Len Youngberg. Source
Macoun Hotel, c. 1910. Source

Six weeks after purchasing the hotel at Macoun and getting his family settled within, Carl Hochhaus left town to see to matters on his Alberta homestead. He could never have imagined that when he returned home, he would find his hotel a smouldering mass of ashes with many dead inside, including his wife Gertrude and 23-year-old daughter Emma.

On April 20, 1914, one of the most tragic hotel fires in Saskatchewan’s history occurred at Macoun, located 28 kilometres northwest of Estevan. Eleven people (some accounts say thirteen) lost their lives as a result of the disaster and many more were injured, including three Hochhaus children, Gertrude, Carl Jr., and Bernard.

The Explosion


At lunchtime on that fateful April day, thirty people were inside the Macoun Hotel. Some were Hockhaus family members, some were staff members, others were hotel guests. Many were sitting down for lunch, and the hotel dining room was full.

James Towey, a ten-year-old witness of the explosion, provides his account in Plowshares to Pumpjacks: R.M. of Cymri: Macoun, Midale, Halbrite, (1984). Shortly after noon, Carl Hochhaus, Jr. smelled gas and decided to go down to the basement to investigate. “He had a lighted cigar in his mouth as he descended the stairs and opened the door to the basement,” Towey recounts. “Immediately there was an explosion which lifted the entire structure approximately thirty feet in the air, then the building dropped back down into the basement.”

The bank and drug store (seen from rear) were still standing after the fire, but the hotel, meat market, telephone office and a private house were destroyed. Source

Carl was blown several feet through a doorway on to the street and survived with only a few bruises, singed hair and eyebrows. Everyone caught in the conflagration was injured, perished in the fire, or died later as a result of their injuries. 

The hotel’s dining room was located directly above an acetylene light plant in the basement. The explosion caused the entire dining room to collapse into the cellar below. Wreckage from the walls and floors above fell on top of the diners and then caught fire. All of the people who were in the dining room at the time of the explosion were killed. 

The Victims 

 

Headline in the Saskatoon Daily Star, April 21, 1914.


In addition to the two Hochhaus family members, those killed in the Macoun hotel explosion were: four telephone workers, Daniel Egan from Moose Jaw, Harold George Clark from Estevan, Thomas Drake from Pipestone, Manitoba, and Peter Joyner from Estevan; Joseph E. Grant, carpenter from Macoun; James Dunger, buyer for International Elevator Company of Manitoba; and three members of the hotel staff, Clifford VanDer, hotel clerk from Vancouver, Ferdinand Schmidt, hotel bartender from Alberta, and Stella Peterson, hotel cook from Macoun.

Stella Peterson, the hotel’s young Icelandic cook, was terribly injured in the explosion. The building collapse caused her to be pinned in the kitchen for some time before she was rescued. Miss Peterson, the sole wage earner for her widowed mother and younger brothers and sisters, died in Winnipeg General Hospital on June 16th after weeks of suffering.

Bernard Hochhaus and his dog, Bismarck. From Plowshares to Pumpjacks
The most talked about incident in connection with the hotel explosion was, according to the Regina Leader-Post, the “miraculous escape” of Hochhaus’ youngest son, Bernard. The eight-year-old was playing with his dog, a large collie named Bismarck, in the lobby of the hotel when the explosion catapulted the two right out the door. Covered by debris, the collie dug its way into the open air but would not leave without little Bernard. “That the boy did not perish also,” the paper wrote on April 23, “is attributed by everyone to the dog.”

The day after the explosion, trains brought throngs of curious people to Macoun. The Leader-Post reported that visitors "formed a moving circle around the charred ruins of the wrecked building, watching silently the men of the Mounted Police, their red coats blackened and torn, delve into the debris, seeking those who were lost in the holocaust." Most remains were charred beyond recognition.

Crowds viewing the aftermath of the Macoun explosion, April 1914. Source

Acetylene Gas Regulations Needed


Small acetylene gas plants were one of the best lighting options in Saskatchewan in places where electric light was not yet attainable. But, after the Macoun disaster, there were calls for change. Saskatchewan’s fire commissioner, R. J. McLean, immediately appealed for safety measures in the installation of acetylene gas works in any home or public building. Acetylene gas can “do more harm than dynamite,” he stated, cautioning that no generators should be permitted in basements.
One type of acetylene gas plant, storage tank in centre, generator on right. Source

The Saskatoon Daily Star felt that more than warnings from the fire commissioner was needed. “One acetylene gas plant to one frame hotel equals one death trap,” an editorial stated on April 24. The newspaper advocated for laws requiring that gas plants be housed in separate buildings a safe distance away from inhabited buildings. The arrival of electricity in villages and towns during the 1920s, however, spelled the end of gas lighting in the province.

Final Resting Place 

Gertrude Hochhaus and her daughter Emma are buried at Tumwater, Washington, along with Carl Sr. and other Hochhaus family members.

Source: www.findagrave.com

©Joan Champ, 2019