Dave Richardson delves into namings and renamings of Oxford pubs
The furore that greeted Dodo Pub Co’s decision to rename the White House the Slow & Steady, and the Angel & Greyhound reverting to its former name the Oranges & Lemons, got me thinking about the different names many of our pubs have enjoyed, or otherwise. Sometimes the new names are either banal or just silly, whereas the old names usually have a link with history that many people feel is worth preserving.
And indeed, Oxford has many examples. It is of course usually open to the operator to call the pub whatever it wishes, and you can’t argue too much with that if they feel it would attract customers in these difficult times. But how many people are put off, on the assumption (possibly mistaken) that the renamed pub would be full of…… well, banal or silly people? But at least Oxford hasn’t suffered the fate of a pub in Liverpool which was renamed into something vulgar and/or offensive – more of this later.
Probably the most renamed pub in Oxford currently rejoices in the moniker Cow and Creek, which for me conjures up images of bovines wading into water and possibly leaving behind traces of their presence. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t been in, but then again I didn’t go in when it was called Que Pasa? and the Bell & Compass, both identities it has had in the last 20 years. A pub first occupied the site in 1764 as the Blue Anchor, later becoming the Anchor, purchased by Oxford brewery Morrells in 1779 and being renamed the Westgate in 1977. In 1997 it became the O.X. ONE. I make that seven identities, five of them in less than 50 years.
Nautical themes seem popular in Oxford and although we’re far from the sea, we do at least have a river. But does that excuse another much renamed pub taking on the name Lighthouse a few years ago? According to Marston’s (which also owns the Cow and Creek), it has a “Steampunk” interior. Its previous identities have included the Duke’s Cut (named after a branch of the Oxford Canal that finishes nearby), Rosie O’Grady’s (an Irish-themed pub) and, until 1995, the Queen’s Arms.
In the 1980s and 1990s over 40 pubs in the UK were owned by Firkin Brewery, and many of these were brew pubs which were renamed the (Something) and Firkin – these included the Red Lion in Gloucester Green (Fuggle and Firkin, and before that Bakery and Brewhouse), what is now the City Arms (Philosopher and Firkin) and the Jericho Tavern (Philanderer and Firkin). Firkin had disappeared as a brewery and pub chain by 1999, but some of the names lasted much longer. Some Firkin pubs eventually became part of the Mitchells & Butlers (M&B) pub company, once a brewery, which operates under various brands including Nicholson’s, Ember Inns and faux Irish chain O’Neill’s.
Probably the most banal and unimaginative renaming in Oxford – or anywhere? – befell the Cape of Good Hope, on The Plain, which at one point became The Pub Oxford. Fortunately this didn’t last long, but it then became It’s a Scream!, with a sign showing Edward Munch’s famous painting The Scream, as part of a chain of student-oriented pubs. It was certainly a striking sign, attracting the “right” audience perhaps, but reverted to the Cape of Good Hope before long.
Three pubs were operated by Wychwood brewery when it was independent, the brewery being closed last year by Carlsberg Marston’s, and these were named after Wychwood’s stand-out beer, Hobgoblin. These were what’s now the Cowley Retreat, previously the Ampney Cottage, and what is now St Aldates Tavern. A pub had stood on the St Aldates site since 1380, becoming the New Inn in 1716. That name endured until 1965 when it was renamed the Bulldog, not after a breed of canine but after the bowler-hatted university officials known as bulldogs.
After Hobgoblin it became St Aldates Tavern, but now it becomes even more confusing as the pub first known as St Aldates Tavern was further down near the road by the law courts. The Morlands Artist plaque still adorns the wall of this building, at 61 St Aldates, which is part of an educational establishment. But even this name was relatively new – from 1866 until the 1990s it was known as the Apollo, becoming a Mexican restaurant before closure.
Other renamings in Oxford are almost too numerous to mention, but include (original names in brackets) the White Rabbit (Gloucester Arms), Oxford Retreat (Nag’s Head, Antiquity Hall), OXO Bar (Welsh Pony), Angel and Greyhound (Burton Ale Stores, Oranges and Lemons, Parker’s, and soon to be Oranges and Lemons again), James Street Tavern (Red, White and Blue), Big Society (Elm Tree), Library (Brickworks, Rats Wine Bar), Rusty Bicycle (Eagle Tavern), Up in Arms (Somerset), Jude the Obscure (Prince of Wales), Rickety Press (Radcliffe Arms), Porterhouse (Kite Inn), Punter (Waterman’s) and the Wolvercote (Red Lion, Jacobs Inn).
Others to have reverted to their original names include the Castle (Paradise House, Culture Vulture, Baby Love), and the Berkshire (Crooked Pot, Hubble & Home, Home). Will more follow?
The Slug and Lettuce, a new-build bar at Oxford Castle, is part of the UK’s largest pub group, Stonegate, and could be considered the most successful of the “silly” names. The Rat and Parrot chain is no more (although I did spot the Apple and Parrot in Torquay recently), but did you know that the Three Goats’ Heads, a Sam Smith pub in central Oxford, is not in the “silly” category? Apparently this is the sign of the Shoe Makers Guild, and a shoe maker may have once stood there.
But to return to the White House/Slow & Steady, Dodo can point to three apparently successful renamings as with the Rusty Bicycle, Rickety Press and Up in Arms mentioned above. After a while, do people really care what a pub is named after? Diehards may protest, but many people don’t have a sense of history which so many pub names allude to.
J.D. Wetherspoon has named most of its 800 pubs after something historically significant to their location, and that is true of the three in Oxford – with the Four Candles, for example, recalling a sketch by comedian Ronnie Barker who went to school nearby. But some Wetherspoon names are a mouthful, such as Chief Justice of the Common Pleas (a former courthouse in Keswick) and Captain Ridley’s Shooting Party (close to Bletchley Park).
Slow & Steady refers to Henry Hare, the pub’s Victorian architect, with a logo showing a hare and a tortoise. Even if you make that connection, won’t people start to expect slow service, or moan about the dreadfully slow traffic along Abingdon Road? And it does stand on the corner of Whitehouse Road, named after the pub – should that be renamed too?
And that vulgar and offensive pub name I mentioned at the beginning? Stop reading now if easily offended…..!
Around the corner from my old school in Liverpool was a pub called the Doric (named after a type of classical architecture) where we drank occasionally (we start young in Liverpool!) A few years ago it became the Cock and Seaman, which caused a tabloid and social media storm, but the company running it pleaded that all its pubs were called Cock and (Something), and its location Seaforth was near the docks. People have probably been sniggering over the name Cock Inn for centuries, but the new name didn’t prevent the old Doric closing a few years ago and becoming housing.
Oxford once had the short-lived Cock and Camel, but hopefully we’ll be spared anything worse. We wish the Slow & Steady every success now it is up and running, and it would appear to be doing well. Even I question the relevance of some historic names, such as the Port Mahon, named after a naval battle in 1708, two years before the pub was built. But I somehow can’t imagine the Bear Inn, Turf Tavern, Lamb & Flag, Rose and Crown and even Eagle and Child, when it finally re-opens, ever being renamed, at least under their current owners.
Or am I being naïve? See you down the Cock & Bull!
For more on Oxford pub history, check out my book Oxford Pubsin which I acknowledge previous books by Derek Honey (An Encyclopaedia of Oxford Pubs, Inns and Taverns, 1998), and Oxford Pubs Past & Present (1978), by Paul J. Marriott.
What’s in a name?
Dave Richardson delves into namings and renamings of Oxford pubs
The furore that greeted Dodo Pub Co’s decision to rename the White House the Slow & Steady, and the Angel & Greyhound reverting to its former name the Oranges & Lemons, got me thinking about the different names many of our pubs have enjoyed, or otherwise. Sometimes the new names are either banal or just silly, whereas the old names usually have a link with history that many people feel is worth preserving.
And indeed, Oxford has many examples. It is of course usually open to the operator to call the pub whatever it wishes, and you can’t argue too much with that if they feel it would attract customers in these difficult times. But how many people are put off, on the assumption (possibly mistaken) that the renamed pub would be full of…… well, banal or silly people? But at least Oxford hasn’t suffered the fate of a pub in Liverpool which was renamed into something vulgar and/or offensive – more of this later.
Probably the most renamed pub in Oxford currently rejoices in the moniker Cow and Creek, which for me conjures up images of bovines wading into water and possibly leaving behind traces of their presence. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t been in, but then again I didn’t go in when it was called Que Pasa? and the Bell & Compass, both identities it has had in the last 20 years. A pub first occupied the site in 1764 as the Blue Anchor, later becoming the Anchor, purchased by Oxford brewery Morrells in 1779 and being renamed the Westgate in 1977. In 1997 it became the O.X. ONE. I make that seven identities, five of them in less than 50 years.
Nautical themes seem popular in Oxford and although we’re far from the sea, we do at least have a river. But does that excuse another much renamed pub taking on the name Lighthouse a few years ago? According to Marston’s (which also owns the Cow and Creek), it has a “Steampunk” interior. Its previous identities have included the Duke’s Cut (named after a branch of the Oxford Canal that finishes nearby), Rosie O’Grady’s (an Irish-themed pub) and, until 1995, the Queen’s Arms.
In the 1980s and 1990s over 40 pubs in the UK were owned by Firkin Brewery, and many of these were brew pubs which were renamed the (Something) and Firkin – these included the Red Lion in Gloucester Green (Fuggle and Firkin, and before that Bakery and Brewhouse), what is now the City Arms (Philosopher and Firkin) and the Jericho Tavern (Philanderer and Firkin). Firkin had disappeared as a brewery and pub chain by 1999, but some of the names lasted much longer. Some Firkin pubs eventually became part of the Mitchells & Butlers (M&B) pub company, once a brewery, which operates under various brands including Nicholson’s, Ember Inns and faux Irish chain O’Neill’s.
Probably the most banal and unimaginative renaming in Oxford – or anywhere? – befell the Cape of Good Hope, on The Plain, which at one point became The Pub Oxford. Fortunately this didn’t last long, but it then became It’s a Scream!, with a sign showing Edward Munch’s famous painting The Scream, as part of a chain of student-oriented pubs. It was certainly a striking sign, attracting the “right” audience perhaps, but reverted to the Cape of Good Hope before long.
Three pubs were operated by Wychwood brewery when it was independent, the brewery being closed last year by Carlsberg Marston’s, and these were named after Wychwood’s stand-out beer, Hobgoblin. These were what’s now the Cowley Retreat, previously the Ampney Cottage, and what is now St Aldates Tavern. A pub had stood on the St Aldates site since 1380, becoming the New Inn in 1716. That name endured until 1965 when it was renamed the Bulldog, not after a breed of canine but after the bowler-hatted university officials known as bulldogs.
After Hobgoblin it became St Aldates Tavern, but now it becomes even more confusing as the pub first known as St Aldates Tavern was further down near the road by the law courts. The Morlands Artist plaque still adorns the wall of this building, at 61 St Aldates, which is part of an educational establishment. But even this name was relatively new – from 1866 until the 1990s it was known as the Apollo, becoming a Mexican restaurant before closure.
Other renamings in Oxford are almost too numerous to mention, but include (original names in brackets) the White Rabbit (Gloucester Arms), Oxford Retreat (Nag’s Head, Antiquity Hall), OXO Bar (Welsh Pony), Angel and Greyhound (Burton Ale Stores, Oranges and Lemons, Parker’s, and soon to be Oranges and Lemons again), James Street Tavern (Red, White and Blue), Big Society (Elm Tree), Library (Brickworks, Rats Wine Bar), Rusty Bicycle (Eagle Tavern), Up in Arms (Somerset), Jude the Obscure (Prince of Wales), Rickety Press (Radcliffe Arms), Porterhouse (Kite Inn), Punter (Waterman’s) and the Wolvercote (Red Lion, Jacobs Inn).
Others to have reverted to their original names include the Castle (Paradise House, Culture Vulture, Baby Love), and the Berkshire (Crooked Pot, Hubble & Home, Home). Will more follow?
The Slug and Lettuce, a new-build bar at Oxford Castle, is part of the UK’s largest pub group, Stonegate, and could be considered the most successful of the “silly” names. The Rat and Parrot chain is no more (although I did spot the Apple and Parrot in Torquay recently), but did you know that the Three Goats’ Heads, a Sam Smith pub in central Oxford, is not in the “silly” category? Apparently this is the sign of the Shoe Makers Guild, and a shoe maker may have once stood there.
But to return to the White House/Slow & Steady, Dodo can point to three apparently successful renamings as with the Rusty Bicycle, Rickety Press and Up in Arms mentioned above. After a while, do people really care what a pub is named after? Diehards may protest, but many people don’t have a sense of history which so many pub names allude to.
J.D. Wetherspoon has named most of its 800 pubs after something historically significant to their location, and that is true of the three in Oxford – with the Four Candles, for example, recalling a sketch by comedian Ronnie Barker who went to school nearby. But some Wetherspoon names are a mouthful, such as Chief Justice of the Common Pleas (a former courthouse in Keswick) and Captain Ridley’s Shooting Party (close to Bletchley Park).
Slow & Steady refers to Henry Hare, the pub’s Victorian architect, with a logo showing a hare and a tortoise. Even if you make that connection, won’t people start to expect slow service, or moan about the dreadfully slow traffic along Abingdon Road? And it does stand on the corner of Whitehouse Road, named after the pub – should that be renamed too?
And that vulgar and offensive pub name I mentioned at the beginning? Stop reading now if easily offended…..!
Around the corner from my old school in Liverpool was a pub called the Doric (named after a type of classical architecture) where we drank occasionally (we start young in Liverpool!) A few years ago it became the Cock and Seaman, which caused a tabloid and social media storm, but the company running it pleaded that all its pubs were called Cock and (Something), and its location Seaforth was near the docks. People have probably been sniggering over the name Cock Inn for centuries, but the new name didn’t prevent the old Doric closing a few years ago and becoming housing.
Oxford once had the short-lived Cock and Camel, but hopefully we’ll be spared anything worse. We wish the Slow & Steady every success now it is up and running, and it would appear to be doing well. Even I question the relevance of some historic names, such as the Port Mahon, named after a naval battle in 1708, two years before the pub was built. But I somehow can’t imagine the Bear Inn, Turf Tavern, Lamb & Flag, Rose and Crown and even Eagle and Child, when it finally re-opens, ever being renamed, at least under their current owners.
Or am I being naïve? See you down the Cock & Bull!
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