Chapter 6

Temperance and intemperance

For many years in Stewarton, one word was written and spoken more than any other. The word was temperance.

   There were "temperance lectures" in local halls and in schools; school-children were asked to write "temperance essays" and prizes were sometimes offered for the best efforts.   Local organisations which promoted temperance included the British Women's Temperance Association, the Band of Hope, the Foundry Boys, the Little White Ribboners, the Rechabites, the Y.M.C.A., the Good Templars, and the Salvation Army. And temperance was preached by the kirks.

   The feelings were so strong in Stewarton against "the demon drink" or intemperance that in 1917, the local Town Council submitted a motion to Parliament: "That this Council resolve to intimate to the Prime Minister and members of the Government that we are firmly convinced that it is only by prohibition of intoxicating liquors during the war and after demobilisation that the highest efficiency can be ensured and the welfare of the nation be promoted to the utmost."

     The cause of the furore is not difficult to discover. In the second half of the 19th century there were seventeen taverns and three inns in Stewarton so it stands to reason that there must have been sufficient customers to enable each of those establishments to remain in business. In other and plainer words, Stewarton must have had more than its fair share of heavy drinkers, imbibers, boozers, and alcoholics, as well as those who just liked, to quote that peculiar Scottish term, wee refreshment."   In the letters he wrote around 1860 to his son in Australia, James Jamieson of Rigg Street, a reformed drinker himself, wrote about his cousin and her husband who were often "for days lying in a state of beastly drunkenness." He advised his son to "avoid strong drink as you would a plague," and mentioned some Stewartonians who had "the cursed love of strong drink."

   Stories from the pre-1920 era have been told and retold of local men, and the occasional woman, who "went oan the fuddle" or "oan the batter" for days on end, in times when the public houses opened their doors at eight o'clock in the morning.   By the early part of this century the number of fully licensed premises had decreased to eleven and they were situated all over town. Those with a good thirst, it has been said, might start a "pub crawl” at Minnie Cochrane's in Dean Street ;( now a small garden site). Next stop would be at the Eagle Inn in High Street which still stands today as a dwelling house in that dip in the pavement. Then along to Bertie Gilmour's Palace Bar, which is now a butcher's shop, and after refreshment there, the Horseshoe Bar in Brown Street might be the next port of call.  (It later became Meg Donaldson's Horseshoe Cafe.)

   The "crawl" would then continue to John Newlands' hostelry in Main Street and then down the street to the Balmoral Bar at the Cross.   Up Rigg Street to the Station Hotel would be followed by a short stay in the Railway Hotel back down at the other side of the Cross, where proprietor Gabriel Cochrane dispensed his own brands of whisky  —  Cochrane's  Special  and Cochrane's Strathannock at sixpence "a hauf" (Small measure.)

   A dauner "doon the bey" would then lead to the Annickvale Tavern where, I have been told, many of the young men of Stewarton savoured (or otherwise) their first taste of strong drink. Mrs Wishart served them in the back room and presumably she was told: "See what the boys in the back room will have." Then it would be back up to Lainshaw Street to the Auld Hoose, about a hundred yards from the Cross and finally, for those still  standing,  down  to  the  Standalane Corner to the public house owned by Peter  or "Punt" Welsh. Some people still refer to the site as Welsh's comer. 

   But time was running out for the publicans and their droothy customers. Plans were .afoot to end their activities and the drunkenness on the streets, which was commonplace. Wives were bitter because their men were spending their wages in the pubs before staggering home half-cut and half-skint. It came as no surprise when the local   temperance   organisations,   the churches, and the women of the town rebelled. Action was taken under the Temperance (Scotland) Act of 1913 and in November, 1919, Stewarton went to the poll. 

   To drink or not to drink, that was the question, and during the weeks preceding the poll there were numerous local meetings when both sides stated their cases, especially the temperance campaigners. The publicans, however, did not fight too strongly as they felt that Stewarton would never be voted "dry." Strangely, considering the stand of the local clergy and their commitment to the temperance cause, a minister came from Dairy and spoke for the "wets."

   Schoolchildren also entered the fray and in a temperance essay one lad wrote: "I hope that it will be as difficult to obtain a drink in Stewarton as to get a banana at the North Pole."   In November, 1919, the poll was duly held when the result was an emphatic "NO!" This came into effect in May, 1920 when all the publicans went out of business and had to find other ways of making a living. Some were able to remain open by converting their public houses, which were in the main, crude drinking dens, into cafes and sweet shops.

   Two further polls were held, in 1923 and 1926, and on both occasions the "No licence" vote was not only maintained but the majority was increased to 210.   Although the hotels remained open, business was drastically reduced and Gibb y Cochrane of the Railway Hotel extended his taxi service, at first by horse and carriage and then by car.

    Licensed grocers too were affected as they were barred from selling alcoholic drinks, at least over the counter. However, there was one  shop where weel-kent customers with a thirst asked for "ham in a boattle" and came away with a bottle of whisky, well wrapped in brown paper.  This arid state of affairs did not prevent Stewarton's tipplers from having their refreshment and the only wagons they went on were the ones heading for Kilmaurs, Kilmarnock or Dunlop where the publicans gladly welcomed their new patrons.

   Surprisingly, after their third defeat in 1926, the "wets" never fought back and Stewarton became known far and near as "the dry toun." It has been suggested that local business was affected but this was never proved; but the ban on boozers certainly assisted in the downfall of the local junior football club because visiting supporters refused to follow their team to a town in which they could not get a drink.  Over the years there were murmurings of discontent among the drinking fraternity about the situation, although nothing was done as no one seemed to have the courage to force another poll. Yet although Stewarton was "dry," it has been said that there were more drunks corning off the buses and on to the streets on a Saturday night than there ever were when the town was "wet."

   After World War H, when the servicemen, many of whom had become used to enjoying a drink in other parts, were demobilised, there was some talk of holding a poll but it was not until 1961 that this eventually took place when a few local citizens organised a petition demanding a ballot. This took place on December 7th, 1961, and result on this occasion was a definite "wet."  The following June, the Millhouse Hotel, owned by Hugh Wilson, a former mill owner, became the first fully licensed premises in Stewarton for over forty years (it had held a "table licence" for a short time previously). The Bonnet in Brown Street, the Stewarton Arms in Avenue Square, and the Smugglers Inn in High Street followed in 1964 and the David Dale Restaurant opened in Rigg Street.

   Later, part of R. Mackie's old factory in Holm Street was converted into a hostelry called the Fairmount, which changed its name to the Annick Mill, now known as Far Pavilions. Today, there are also licensed hotels outside the town, the Wardhead Park and Chapeltoun House. The local supermarkets and grocers are licensed and four clubs have licences.  Licensing hours, which once were very restricted, were altered drastically a decade ago and now many establishments are open from II a.m. until II p.m. or midnight, and even into the small hours at weekends. And special licenses for dances and other functions in halls are easily obtained.

   Back in the bad old days, Stewarton's drinkers were mainly men and very few women dared to enter that exclusive man's domain, the public house. In fact, females were not allowed into most pubs. Since the new era came into being in 1961, customs and customers have changed and it is now common for man and wife to go out for a drink together. Children are even permitted to accompany their parents for "bar lunches," which have become very popular.  The old, dull, gas-lit pub with sawdust and spitoons on the floor has long since disappeared and has been replaced by modern, comfortable and bright premises, although some have tried to capture the "old tyme" atmosphere by incorporating wooden ceiling beams and other effects of yesteryear.

    In   recent   years, certain bars in Stewarton have undergone further changes and are now catering for the fads and fancies of a younger clientele by the installation of juke boxes, space invader and electronic fruit machines, television sets, plastic plants and piped pop music. Traditional pub games like dominoes and darts have given way to pool, an American table game similar to snooker. The habit of going on the fuddle has, for financial and social reasons, ceased, and a drunken man is rarely seen in Stewarton streets, despite the longer licensing hours. The Community Council and others, however, are perturbed about under-age drinking in local parks, etc. and drink-related crime and vandalism have increased.

   Today in Stewarton there is a branch of Alcoholics Anonymous but the word temperance is never heard. And although some residents still banker for a return of prohibition, it is unlikely that Stewarton will ever again be called "the dry toun."