46 Great Victoria St, Belfast BT2 7BA
In my opinion, the most interesting pub in Northern Ireland is undoubtedly The Crown Liquor Saloon, one of the more exotic properties owned by The National Trust. It was a courageous step by them when they decided, in 1978, to purchase it. (Sir John Betjeman, the late Poet Laureate, played a crucial role in the Trust’s decision.) In 1981, the Trust carried out a sympathetic restoration, and it took a sum of approximately £400,000 to restore it to its full Victorian splendour. They are to be congratulated on a job well done. It is now managed by Bass Ireland. It is unique, and really is a visual gem, a veritable masterpiece in bar architecture, which has the unique distinction of being known to millions the world over. If you for one moment doubt this statement, come and verify it for yourself; in fact, it is the finest example of ornate Victorian Gothic decor to be found anywhere.
The pub dates back to 1826, when the first train ran from Belfast to Lisburn. It was then known as The Railway Tavern, and was owned by Felix O’Hanlon; he sold it to Michael Flanagan, but it was Michael’s son, Patrick, who was destined to make it famous. A student of architecture, he travelled widely and was impressed with what he saw. He arrived home with ideas to brighten up the old family bar. The year is 1885, an era of emancipation in Ireland, which saw a sharp increase in the building of Catholic churches. Skilled craftsmen from Italy were brought into the North, and Patrick persuaded some of these to supplement their income by moonlighting on the building of his saloon. These Italian craftsmen were responsible for the tiling, glasswork and rich ornamental woodwork which turned Patrick’s dream into reality, and gave The Crown its distinctive character. No wonder, at times when the sun beams strongly through the stained glass windows, you would think you were standing in a church. I think this is because of the wonderful combination of snugs, which look at times like confessional boxes, and the stained glass, of course, suggests a baroque church interior, rather than a bar.
The exterior facade of the bar is a riot of polychromatic tiles, which clearly hint at the box of delights to be found within. At first sight, the outside is so exotically overwhelming that one has difficulty in registering the fine detail work.
Some people find The Crown gaudy, but for me it’s unbelievably rich in colour and design. Each time you go in, you will find something new to catch your eye that you had missed before. Where would you find a lovely burnished primrose yellow, red and gold ceiling, a floor laid in a myriad of mosaic tiles, brocaded walls, ubiquitous highly-patterned tiles, vigorous wood carving throughout, ornate mirrors, wooden columns with Corinthian capitals, and feather motifs in gold? Painted and etched glass is everywhere you look, vivid in amber and carmine . . . painted shells, fairies, pineapples, fleurs-de-lis and clowns . . . incidentally, the colourful decorative windows fronting the bar were originally intended to shield customers from inquisitive passers-by. The long Balmoral red granite-topped ‘Altar’ bar is divided by columns and faced with gaily coloured tiles and heated foot rest. Look out for the huge casks with their polished brass taps. In this many-coloured cavern all you have to do is stand and look. Save for the inscriptions in English on the mahogany cabinet behind the bar – “High Class Whiskey – Direct Importers – Special Wines” – it might be something out of the Arabian Nights, or a Bohemian setting reminding one of Balfe’s Marble Halls. Yet the glittering exuberant feeling, in all its detailing, still remains within the bounds of good taste. Only a colour TV and ugly spirit optics intrude on a scene that otherwise has remained unchanged for over a century.
Another great delight in this magical place is the 10 different-shaped, cosy and elaborately carved wooden boxes, lettered from A to J. These private booths, or snugs as we Northerners call them, have, guarding them, quaint little mythical beasts surmounting the boxes, the grim-beaked griffin, or the lion rampant, each holding armorial shields inscribed with Latin inscriptions, like ‘Verus Amor Patria’ (Love Your Country), and ‘Audentis Fortuna Juvat’ (Fortune Favours the Brave). In the snugs you will find gunmetal plates for striking matches, and an antique bell system (this used to be very common in Victorian houses, where servants were employed) which alerts bar staff to your liquid needs. Drinking snugs, according to old records, were not originally built for comfort, but to accommodate those people who preferred to drink quietly and unseen. ‘To slip in for a quick one’ obviously referred to those reserved or shy individuals who may have held certain opinions on public houses, but at the same time still liked a drink, provided no-one saw him or her taking it. Those people are few and far between now; nevertheless, the ‘snug’ habit very much remains with us and even in the most modern bar you will still find a version of this quaint drinking department, but it is still a snug, or box – to use the colloquial name. It is no wonder that much revolutionary conspiracy and many clandestine meetings took place in these little snugs. Everybody finds the snug conducive to an exchange of confidences, private talk and drink.
The Crown provided the compelling location for the finale of Carol Reed’s excellent film thriller ‘Odd Man Out’, in which James Mason, playing the part of an injured Republican gunman, staggers in to seek sanctuary from a cold and hostile Belfast night. Although filmgoers saw the exterior of The Crown in the 1946 film, the interior of The Crown was faithfully reconstructed back in Denham Studios in England. The book of the film was written by a struggling English writer, F.L. (Laurie) Green, who came to Belfast on holiday in 1933 and liked it so much he stayed for a further 18 years. He lived in Ulsterville Avenue, just off the Lisburn Road, and seemingly his local was the Four-In-Hand.
He returned to England in 1951, where he died 2 years later at the early age of 51. James Mason, the star, always considered it his finest performance, but he was well supported by Kathleen Ryan and Robert Newton as the mad artist. Do you remember him in the bar, grabbing the snivelling Shell (played brilliantly by the great Abbey actor F.J. McCormack)? Other parts were played by Cyril Cusack, Noel Purcell, Joe Tomelty, Albert Sharp and Min Milligan. Carol Reed also scored with his use of children (his last film was the Oscar-winning film ‘Oliver’). He was an expert at getting good performances from youngsters. The bands of barefooted street urchins, getting in the way with their cries of ‘Gi’s a penny, mister’, were played by the boys of the old Milltown Industrial School. They provide more than one truly lifelike street incident. Incidentally, some of the exterior scenes of the film were shot around Boomer Street (off Divis Street), Cupar Street and Queen’s Square.
A separate entrance from Amelia Street will lead you up to the new Britannic Lounge Bar, called after The Britannic, one of Harland and Wolff’s famous trio of White Star liners (the other two being the Oceanic and the ill-fated Titanic). The Britannic was ordered in 1927 as a luxury liner, but by the time it was built and being fitted out, war was looming and instead they fitted it out as a troop carrier. Not long into the war, it was sunk. Architect Alistair Cairns has incorporated decorative artefacts from the ship herself (when she was being fitted out as a luxury liner), such as distinctive pilasters, columns and panels (featured behind the bar area). Some of these were found by accident in the upper rooms of a city centre garage prior to demolition. One of the original embossed doors is used along with black and white and coloured prints of the ships. All have been skilfully designed into integral working parts of the decor. You would call this a theme bar, for the architect here has attempted to give the flavour and comfort of an ocean-going liner. Luxurious drapes, brass rails, and a large needlework picture by local lady Karen Fleming, and textile hangings, reflecting the era of the Britannic, complete the picture.
The Crown is both ageless and priceless, a gem of Victoriana, and without doubt one of the great bars of the world.