EARLY HISTORY OF BEER—CONTINUED.
With the close of the preceding chapter we had intended to leave this
branch of the subject, but a paper of Hans von der Planitz, written
in German on the same topic, is so interesting that we cannot do
better than quote a considerable portion. It is written with genuine
enthusiasm and is valuable not merely for its facts regarding the early
history of beer, but also as a picture of customs and manners, often
given in the words of writers contemporary with the circumstances
described. The picturesque or realistic effect of the old German
has been as far as possible preserved in the rendering of passages
written in that style, and very often the original is added in a note
or otherwise, for the enjoyment of readers who are able to appreciate
its flavor. Quotation at such length has involved a trifling amount of
repetition of matter already stated, but it has seemed better to submit
to this than to mutilate an independent account, much of whose effect
depends on its manner of developing the subject. Commencing with the
ninth century the writer says:
“Beer brewing in England and Flanders is mentioned by Walafried
Strabo. (849 A. D.) It had been known from a remote antiquity and
continued in use partly, at least, through Celtic influence. In France
beer gradually gave place to wine, while in Germany it made good its
position, and lager beer was discovered as early as the thirteenth
century, that of the Mark being especially celebrated. In Bohemia the
earliest account of beer brewing dates as far back as 1086 A. D. Poland
and Prussia were addicted to the barley juice before the time of modern
civilization and honored a special god of beer, _Raugunzemapat_, whose
name is derived from _rugti_, to ferment, and literally signifies
the god of fermentation. In Bavaria, where, under Roman influence,
wine growing had attained an important place which it was destined
afterwards to lose, beer was commonly known within the first thousand
years of the present era and is mentioned by Voehrung, 816, and
others. According to Graesse it was a dull brown and reddish drink and
soured easily. In the more primitive districts oats were used as the
basis, and only “upper-ferment” beer was made. In the latter part of
the middle ages the process by “under fermentation” was discovered,
its origin, according to Professor Holzner of Weihenstephan, being
in one of the monasteries. From this point beer brewing increased
vigorously until Bohemian competition and Bohemian hops gave it a
staggering check. In the southern countries of Europe beer does not
easily give place to wine though hard pushed, while in Asia and Africa
the inhabitants use their traditionary drink from one generation to
another, and in Egypt especially, the Arabs acquired a taste for the
beer of the Copts. Such was the condition of things when the dawn of a
new age showed itself on the horizon.
“The characteristic of a period is found essentially in its variation
from the adjacent epochs, and that of the one under consideration has
been already indicated. But beside the scientific researches, that
had very little connection with trade, there grew up a descriptive
literature that stands in close relation to the first general empire
of beer. To suppose that the present age is the first time of real
triumph for the liquor of Gambrinus, shows a very superficial knowledge
of the history of civilization, for apart from the Egyptian and
Celtic-Germanic beer epochs, which were somewhat local, we have already
long passed the real first period of success which fell in the time of
the _Renaissance_. In those days the brown flood spread out not merely
over Germany, England and Belgium, but into the far corners of recently
discovered countries; in village taverns and _rathskellers_ peasants
and citizens drank themselves full and merry. At the high schools the
students already went to the _kneipen_ with their rapiers (_spiessen_)
and swords, studied and rioted behind the tin can, and in the banquet
halls of princes and the cabinets of noble ladies, the barley juice
was a favorite beverage, not swallowed hastily from tumblers, but
taken with deliberation and full enjoyment from deep, wide-mouthed
mugs or tankards. Seven maas a day was the allowance for a lady of
high rank.[2] About the end of the seventeenth century the increasing
use of brandy and coffee put a stop to this immoderate consumption,
as at the same time the influence of France and the colonies with
their new dishes and resulting change of tastes, brought about the
progress from middle age cookery to that of modern times, and as the
Gustavus Adolphus boots and wide-brimmed plumed hats gave place to silk
stockings and perukes. The present age witnesses the second triumph of
Gambrinus, a triumph perhaps even greater than the first, for though
the capacity of individuals is far from equal to that of the men of
the Renaissance, except in the case of some academic beer soakers and
Munich _Danaidenfaesser_ (bottomless vessels), yet the distribution of
beer is more extensive, more general and more uniform. The consumption
in Europe alone has increased tenfold within fifty years and grows
constantly. In the first quarter of this century the wave spread from
Bavaria farther and farther over the whole map of Europe, and about
twenty years ago a new source was opened in Austria, and the Vienna
beer flowed through the canals which the Bavarian product had opened.
[2] Sieben Maas Bier per Tag vors graefliche Frauenzimmer war
Vorschrift.
This first epoch stands in close relation with the general abounding
strength of that period of civilization. Adventurous sailors and
explorers had broken the bonds of the known earth, plain men had dared
to enter the lists with that hierarchy, to attack which had been held
profanation; art had thrown aside the old traditions and brought out
the old master-works, the world of scholars had torn itself loose
from petrified scholasticism and turned to the ancient classics,
and, as in most branches of science, so also in chemistry, there was
a genuine revolution, and it was studied in reference to medicine
almost as assiduously as it had previously been in the search for the
philosopher’s stone. New inquiries were set on foot, old problems
revived and attacked from a new point of view, and among these the
subjects of yeast and fermentation played an important part. Not
many decades have passed since the practical brewer found neither
interest nor profit in theories of fermentation, and especially all
chemical and physical discussion of his work and processes. The
purely scientific style which too often had very little reference to
the practical man, and the various contradictory views and learned
controversies were not calculated to attract the interest of the beer
brewer. Scholars discussed and disputed, the man of trade brewed and
coopered, and neither paid any attention to the other. Now the case is
very different. Intelligent and thoughtful brewers have been forced to
admit that an insight into the nature of the materials they use, and
the changes these undergo while in their hands will not merely enlarge
their intellectual horizon, but be of great practical use in their
business, and in consequence are found keenly alive to the progress of
scientific inquiry.
Some reference has already been made to the empirical knowledge of the
earlier ages. Even Pliny’s often quoted “_Palam est naturam (farinæ)
acore fermentari_” is merely a summary of the result of observation.
Noah’s wine making, the leaven[3] of the Jews and such like may be left
to special history. The word _fermentum_ as used by the alchemists
has no very definite meaning; in general their explanation is to the
effect that by means of the ferment a purifying and refining process
is set in action—and hence many efforts were made to discover a
general ferment by whose instrumentality it would become possible
among other things, to transform the baser metals into gold. For this
reason they often use the word _fermentum_ to indicate the anxiously
sought “philosopher’s stone.”[4] The indefinite character of the word
is mentioned by Petrus Bonus of Ferrara (1345): “_Apud philosophos
fermentum dupliciter videtur dici: uno modo ipse lapis philosophorum
ex suis elementis compositus et completus, in comparatione ad metalla;
alio modo illud quod est perficiens lapidem et ipsum complens_,” and
Raymond Lull’s definition, “_Fili, fermentum est corpus perfectum,
subtiliatum et alteratum per potestatem convertentium_,” has the
predicate so indefinite as to give no real information. We add another
quotation from the same author merely to show further the jargon these
men of learning were accustomed to use. He writes “_Fili, præparatio
istius est, quod illud sit transactum primo per naturæ principalia
controvertentia, antequam de isto facias fermentationem, quia illud
fiat principio pulvis calcinatus per coagulationem et quarto sublimatus
per separationem._” George Ripley’s consideration of the subject
calls for no special notice, but the views of Basilius Valentinus
who wrote in the latter half of the fifteenth century will be found
more interesting. He held fermentation to be a purification by means
of which the spirit of wine that already existed in a fluid was put
in condition to act, unfermented beer being dead, “because existing
impurities prevent the spirit from doing its work. Yeast induces in
beer an internal quickening that advances of itself and results in a
division and segregation of the clear and muddy elements, and after
this separation _puri ab impuro_ the spirit can accomplish its duty
successfully, as appears from the subsequent power of the liquor to
produce intoxication.” Valentine is the last in the series of scholars
who though belonging chronologically to a previous epoch must from
the nature and relations of their inquiries be reckoned as belonging
to the new era. It is not in the history of progress as in that of
politics where two adjacent periods can be sharply defined and their
limits assigned to exact dates. Progress goes on gradually, modifying
or adding to what has already existed, and we do not clearly notice
the transformation until it is complete or at least far advanced. So
it was in this case. Far back in the middle ages men turned their
attention to the “ferment” and to fermentation. Much was written, much
nonsense and humbug published; almost no results were attained, but
the beginning was made. Men of the later time grasped the collected
material, regulated and systematized the inquiry and vied with each
other in its prosecution. Struggle and activity were then so universal
that there was a disposition to consider fermentation a special branch
of chemistry, and after treating of the fermentation of wine, beer,
vinegar, etc., it was suggested that the whole vital process might be
nothing more than a continual fermentation.
[3] _Galliæ et Hispaniæ frumento in potum resoluto spuma ita concreta
pro fermento utuntur; qua de causa levior illis quam ceteris panis est._
[4] _De fermento, sine quo ars alchemiæ perfeci et compleri non potest._
[Illustration: View of a Brewery connected with a convent in Bohemia
(14th century), as described by Thaddeus Hagecius ab Hayek, 1585, in
his book, written in Latin, under the title, _De cerevisia_.]
Notwithstanding all that has been said it seems best to date the new
epoch definitely from the beginning of the sixteenth century, and this
although we can reckon no names or events of importance in the year
1501, and must pass over a number of decades to reach Libarius the
first theorist of the second epoch. The reasons for such a division
are various, partly to remove as far as possible all uncertainty from
the discussion, partly because at that memorable time the general
break with blind tradition and the development of new intellectual
and social conditions took place in such a manner as to have a direct
influence on the history of beer and so connect the general revolution
with the province of zymotechnic inquiry. If we date from Libarius we
commit an anachronism, for he stands in the full light of the new era.
In short, beer and its history are so intimately related to social
life and its development that we cannot consider the former alone
and without regard to the latter. The oldest book in this sort of
literature at present known, was published in 1530, under the title,
“An Excellent Little Book of the Making of Wine and Beer so that they
may be Useful and Wholesome to Man. Printed at Erfurt by Melchior
Sachssen at Noah’s Ark.”[5] In 1551, a scholar (Plocotamus) wrote “_De
natura cerevisiarum et de mulso_,” and somewhat later (1585) Thaddeus
Hagecius ab Hayek wrote in Latin a work with the title “_De cerevisia
ejusque conficiendi ratione, natura, viribus et facultatibus_.” More
important than any of these is a book written in German by Heinrich
Knaust, its value consisting not so much in historical deductions as
in a review, grounded on the personal knowledge of the author, of the
facts regarding beer in his time. It is chiefly through this volume
that we are able to form a clear conception of the high development and
actual power of beer at the end of the sixteenth century. On the first
page of the book the master wrote in a style thoroughly characteristic
of the period with its swelling, stilted bombast and magniloquence,
the famous title, “Five Books of the Divine and Noble Gift of the
Philosophical, Precious and Admirable Art of Beer Brewing. Also of the
names of the most Admirable Beers in all Germany, and of their Natures,
Temperaments, Qualities, Individual Characters, Wholesomeness, and
Unwholesomeness, whether wheat or barley, white or red beer, spiced
or not spiced. Newly revised and much Fuller and More Perfect than
the former edition. By Master Heinrich Knaust, Doctor of Law and of
Medicine. Published at Erfurt by George Baumann, 1575, in the twelfth
month.”[6] As a matter of curiosity we reproduce his view of the origin
of beer. According to this the men before the deluge ate herbs and
vegetables and drank water, and he thinks it strange that they should
ever have plucked up heart to become saucy on such a diet. “After the
deluge they received the gift of wine, and where no vines grew God
taught them to make a drink of wheat and barley that was both healthful
and agreeable and as well fitted to strengthen and support the human
system as wine itself.”
[5] Ein schoenes Buechlein von bereytung der wein und bier zu
gesundheit und nutzbarkeit der menschen gedruckt zu Erffurd durch
Melchior Sachssen zu der Archen Noe.
[6] Fuenf Buecher von der goettlichen und edeln Gabe der
philosophischen hochteuren und wunderbaren Kunst Bier zu brauen. Auch
von Namen der vornempstere Biere in ganz Teutschland und von deren
Naturen, Temperamenten, Qualitaten, Art und Eigenschaft, Gesundheit
und Ungesundheit, sey ein Weitzen oder Gersten, Weisse oder Rotte
Biere, Gewuertzet oder Ungewuertzet. Aufs neue uebersehen und in viel
wege ueber vorige edition gemehrt und gebessert. Durch Herrn Heinrich
Knausten, beider Rechten Doctor. Getr. zu Erfurt durch Georgium Baumann
1575 in 12.
When a well known physician of Berlin, Dr. F. G. Zimmerman, felt
himself compelled to declare beer a poison, it was Abraham A. Santa
Clara of Vienna who, in his “History of the Discovery of Beer,”
entitled “Something for All,” 1710, spoke as follows: “Noah planted
the first vineyard and the culture of the vine afterwards spread all
over the world, but as some climates are too harsh for the grape and
prevent its ripening, human ingenuity was forced to discover another
drink which should not merely quench thirst, but like wine excite the
brain.[7] Among the Germans it is called beer, and its brewing requires
a special experience, so that the men of this craft are not counted
least among workmen.” So said also Ehinger, Fritsch, Germershausen,
Gleditsch, Heuman, Hofman, Sensky, Solms and Trafenreuter. In all
this scientific and learned emulation in the matter of fermentation
(zymologie) we learn plainly enough that even the representatives
of science did not confine their attention to a purely theoretical
consideration of the barley juice, but hid the contents of many a can
and mug behind their wide stiff collars, the clergy taking their full
share in this part of the discussion. Luther’s fondness for beer is
well known, and on the evening of that eventful day at Worms, April
18, 1521, the Duke Erich von Braunschweig, sent him a pot of Eimbecker
beer, to which he was specially addicted. The students, whether of
medicine or theology, used every effort to follow faithfully the
illustrious example, whence perhaps it comes that the youth of the
high schools and universities, wedded to tradition, still delight to
hang about the inviting, wide-yawning door of the cool beer cellar.
In the Renaissance, however, the last trace of the _Biercomment_ and
_Bierspielen_ was finally lost.
[7] Der Noë hat zwar den ersten Weinstock gepflantzt welches Gewuechs
nachmals durch die ganze Welt ausgebreitet worden; weil aber etlicher
Orten der rauhe Luft dem Weinstock zuwider und folgsam, solcher in
dergleichen Orten nicht fruchtsam tuht, also hat der Menschen Witz ein
anderes Trunk erfunden welches nicht allein den Durst loeschet sondern
gleich dem Wein, auch den Tuermel in den Kopf bringt.
[8] The common people would not sober stay,
Could find to cup or mouth the nearest way;
Enjoyed their life, and of the barley’s blood
Swilled day and night the brown and foamy flood.
[8] Des Volks gemeine Horte blieb nicht hinten,
Es wusste Kneip’ und maul sehr wohl zu finden;
Im Hochgenuss des Seins, aus Schlauch und Fass
Soff’s Tag und nacht das edle braune Nass.
Beer was retailed in beer-houses and vaults, and in warm weather before
the door, and places which had the hereditary right of brewing also
sold beer occasionally in the living room of the house, and announced
the fact by a mat-weed stuck horizontally above the door. In this
custom we see plainly enough the origin of the later shop signs. In
Oberpfalz (the Upper Palatinate), in the Schwarzwald (Black Forest),
and elsewhere, even now when a privileged brewer wishes to give notice
that he will sell on draught, he hangs up a broom or a triangle of fir
boughs. The publicans of a later time simply exchange this primitive
advertisement for the more durable ones of tin and iron. Before the
windows of the pot houses were folding tables at which the wagoners
usually preferred to drink, and the wandering bands, of whom there was
then an immense number, were accustomed to seat themselves at these
same tables and pass the time in riotous talk and games of dice until
the “beer bell” of the place broke up the assembly and drove them to
their homes and to the inn.[9] When a fair was held the women dealers
in refreshments (Kretschenweiber) took possession of the benches and
sold their beer there in cups of tin, stone or wood, while bread, meat,
sausages, cheese, etc., were brought from the neighboring stands of the
butchers and bakers, for even then people liked to do their business
where wine and beer were close at hand. On any occasion of public
festivity beer booths were a prime necessity, bagpipes and fiddles
were not wanting and a lusty, merry throng danced in the open space
between the crowded benches and tables. The Netherlandish painters have
left us hundreds of cabinet pictures of these festivities and of the
manner and fashion in which they were carried on, and their delightful
and characteristic variations of the theme enable us to form a vivid
conception of what it must have been. Especially worthy of notice in
this respect are Teniers, (whose “Yearly Market”[10] in the Munich
Pinakothek contains 1138 human figures, 45 horses, 67 asses, 37 dogs,
etc., curiously crowded in a jovial throng,) P. Brueghel, the Ostades,
Brower, Jan Steen, who from a fancy for this sort of life himself
became a tavern keeper, and Rubens, whose sketches in this sort are
strikingly good. During the “Thirty Years War,” that is, at the very
culminating point of the epoch, tobacco came into use and the now
inseparable pair, “beer and tobacco,” played an important rôle together
even then. Barley and “mixed corn” (rye and wheat, barley and oats,
oats and rye,) were chiefly used for brewing purposes, but there were
always those who preferred plant beer. It is interesting to know that
pitch was supposed to give the product of fermentation a better keeping
quality.
[9] See the Civil Law of Erfurt.
[10] The picture is eight feet high and twelve feet wide.
We must not omit to mention that this beer worship was not so well
developed in South Germany where it is now best marked, as in North
Germany. Saxony, the Mark and Pomerania were mentioned as “the great
drinking countries.” There was a swarm of names celebrated in beer,
and Knaust’s book shows that it was held no small credit to have drunk
various noted kinds of beer where they were made. There was a Lubeck
Israel, an old Klaus (Brandenburg), a Goslauer Gose, a Hanover Braehan,
a Soltzman at Saltzwedel, a Rastrun at Leipsic, beer of Corvey, beer of
Harlem, Dantzic brew, Eimbecker brew, and many others.[11] Of English
beer, Hersford (Kamma) and the Yorkshire ale were chiefly esteemed.
Most celebrated of all, however, was the Braunschweig _Mumme_, named
for its discoverer, Christian Mumme (1492). By the side of these
brewing celebrities the old beer cities of the middle ages had retained
their character into the time of the Renaissance, as for instance,
Hamburg, with its wheat beer,[12] and others; and many places made
every effort to reach a similar position, partly by the adoption of new
methods, and partly by the enlargement and increase of beer breweries.
In Nuremberg, for instance, the first white beer was brewed in 1541; in
Vienna the brewery with a hundred towers was built in 1564; breweries
were erected at Gumpendorf in 1689, and at St. Marx in 1706; and in
1633 there were established at Freiburg six malt-houses and twelve
breweries.
[11] To these should be added the celebrated beers of Cottbus, and the
Karthuser of Frankfort on the Oder.—_Author._
[12] Wheat beer played an important rôle in the thirty years war.
Wallenstein himself was very much addicted to its use.
The important beer privileges that had been so eagerly grasped by
the monasteries and cities in the middle ages, were by hereditary
right brought over into the new era. The landed estates of the nobles
received back in 1517 the privileges which had been so long kept
from them, and by this means all obstacles were removed from the
beer traffic which had reached so hopeful a development during the
middle ages, and it became possible for it to develop to an extent of
which our own time need not be ashamed. Now it is no great matter to
transport beer from Vienna to Paris by rail and in iced compartments,
but we can not but admire the successful enterprise that in those
days and with such means of transportation as existed, could export
Eimbecker beer to Lombardy as described by the Italian Arnoldus of
Villanova in 1594, and even to Alexandria and Cairo. Nuremberg was one
of the great centers of the beer trade. Rostock and Lubeck supplied all
England and sent not less than 800,000 barrels yearly to that country
until the business was checked by a marked increase in the quantity
brewed by the English themselves. A number of the large English
breweries were founded about this time.
In the households of the reigning princes, there was a strong tendency
to supplement the native brew by imported products, and at such
festivities as marriages, christenings, target-shooting and hunting,
immense quantities of drink were swallowed. The cellar ordinance of
Duke Ernst the Pious, in 1648, allowed for ladies of noble rank four
_maas_ of beer a day, and three _maas_ for a “nightcap.” How much ought
in such circumstances to be the allowance for a man of similar rank,
and of his hangers on is left to the imagination of the reader.
Noble families that had no brew-houses were obliged to supply
themselves from the brewery of the prince. A beer tax also was levied
on vassals who brewed their own beer. An excellent illustration of
the condition of things is afforded by the celebrated Hofbrauhaus at
Munich, in whose whitewashed rooms every stranger still takes at least
one _maas_. As early as the time of Louis the Severe, there existed a
little court brewery at Munich near the _Burggasse_, but towards the
end of the sixteenth century, the demand increasing and the facilities
for production having long been inadequate, William V. proceeded to
the building of the present brew-house, which was at first intended
only for the making of white beer, the brown being still made in the
old quarters. In 1708, however, brown beer also began to be made in
the new establishment. This topic is treated in a stereotyped article
which appears every year in the May number of the Munich Beer Gazette,
under the title “Bock article,” and gives the worshipful bock-drinking
community a solemn and moving account of the court brewery and its
products down to the minutest particulars. As regards bock itself,
which is no longer an exclusive specialty of Munich, as a drink under
the same name is sold every year in various cities, Graesse places
its origin in the seventeenth century, and suggests that it was an
imitation of the Eimbecker beer,—the last rather in virtue of a general
theory and of a supposed play on words, Eimbeck, Aimbock Bock—than
as an actual fact.[13] He says that “the Munich Aimbock or Bock was
made before 1616, the same that is now sold at the beginning of May on
Corpus Christi day.” Now, however, it has been shown that all through
the second half of the sixteenth century (1553-1574) Aimpecker and
Eimbecker beer was spoken of, and that there was an import of beer to
Vienna from Eimbeck as late as 1771, while no trace of any play of
words on the name is discovered. Moreover, that the “bock cellar”[14]
(on the place of the present Restaurant Bonner) was in full operation
at the beginning of the present century, is shown by Chr. Mueller
who wrote under Max Joseph, and described the manners of the place
very nearly as they were to be observed recently, just before the
disappearance of this historical locality, and it is doubtless the
fact that the larger half of the reputation of Munich beer is due to
this specialty. Graesse, speaking of the high reputation of Bavarian
beer, in which he includes as a matter of course that of Munich, is
of the opinion that the general preference for it does not reach
back farther than the early part of this century, and produces some
important evidence to support this view of the case. On the other hand
it is to be claimed in opposition that in such a discussion a careful
distinction is to be made between Bavarian beer and Munich beer, since
the renown of the first is relatively new and hardly goes to the first
twenty years of the century, and its export did not begin in Munich,
and also because that city has not yet been able to attain to the first
rank as an exporter of beer. The reputation of Munich beer is older,
for Mueller (1816) speaks of it as celebrated, and complains that
the excellence of the native product is far surpassed by that of the
Toelzer and Dachauer beers, and that the latter prevail in the Munich
beer shops. This statement corresponds with the unfortunate situation
of the beer interest that was inherited from the previous century,
and that forces us to go back to the seventeenth century for a time
of unquestioned supremacy for beer. In connection with this subject
should be mentioned the successful founding of the Munich Court Brewery
by William V. at the end of the sixteenth century, and these same old
rooms should be regarded as the center and starting point where the
fame of Munich beer was born and nourished, and where even through
all the epoch of perukes and cues, after the fall of the monasteries
that had contributed so much to the reputation of Munich beer, it was
preserved from decay.
[13] The Munich “Fremdenblatt” has lately expressed the same view.
[14] In a coach house of the old _residenz_ in Munich, Bavaria.
In the seventeenth century, in the time of Louis XIV., all Germany fell
under the sway of French influence. There were French conversation,
prayers and oaths, French amusements and French sins, French eating
and drinking. An effort to imitate all the French fashions that the
cavaliers brought from Paris was a characteristic of the sad season
that followed, a time sad for patriots, sad for beer brewers and for
beer. Beer was _une boisson de commun_. The beautifully ornamented
mugs and beakers were put away in the lumber-room (_rumpel kammer_)
and champagne glasses from Paris took their place. At evening, where
formerly the jovial barons and their chief followers had encamped round
the carved-oak table and laid a strong grasp on the mug—there was now
a service of cakes and tea, and where formerly milk and pepper or beer
was used as a morning draught, the coffee breakfast constantly acquired
more use and repute. The common people, however, stood fast for the old
way, and were never better pleased than when the privileged beer came
to honor. At this time, too, the change of rôles took place, and South
Germany entered on its new and important course at the beginning of the
present century. (The brewery at St. Marx was built in 1710, and in
1732 there were three brew-houses at Schwechat.)
It is as if the minds of men slumbered long, only to come at once into
a never suspected activity. In the midst of the tumult we find Balling,
Dreher, Sedlmayer, Kaiser, Otto and many others. Everything in brewing
is changed. Laboratories spring out of the ground and discoveries and
inventions come in countless numbers, brewing journals are started,
schools opened, fairs and associations multiply, and all in the space
of a single half century.