A drink and a slip and a dry UK....

Archie Williams originally hailed from the valley’s of Wales. He knew all about temperance, he had grown up with it, had it stuffed down his throat at Chapel, leaflets brandished in his face in the street by the Band of Hope and the Salvation Army and lectured on it by his ma. Temperance was one reason why Archie had moved to London, because alcohol, was what got him through the day.

Archie needed alcohol because of his other reason for moving to London, the brewers dray that had run him over in the street, and maimed his legs, meaning that he wasn’t fit to go down the pit. His ma and da couldn’t have useless mouths at home so he had headed for London, eventually finding skilled work in the armaments industry, just as the tension was building up in the naval race with Germany.

Which is why, on the 2nd November 1916, Archie was comfortably ensconced in the Dog and Duck in Waltham Abbey, downing the watery pints imposed on him by a government that listened too much to the self righteous, prim and proper busybodies who tried to limit what he could drink, and who therefore were condemning him to a life of pain. Or they would be were not Ted the barman willing to slip in the odd gin or whisky chaser into his pint. He smiled to himself and eased down the warming mixture and the pain, a pain which he acknowledged had kept him out of the trenches unlike his brothers, one of whom he would now never see again and one who was supposed to be a prisoner somewhere. Suddenly looking up he saw a flustered figure in a bowler hat and brown foreman’s coat thrusting his way through the crowd at the bar, what on earth did Brewster want at this time of day, shift was over surely.



The honorable Herbert Asquith, or squiffy to his friends and enemies, looked at the paper in front of him waiting for the dancing words to calm down. The coalition was undoubtedly in trouble, he massaged his temple, had he got the resolve to keep going, he wasn’t sure, so he poured himself another whisky.


“It’s all those damn women Archie, they just don’t know what they are doing I’m at the end of my tether really, they can’t be trusted we need a man down there keeping an eye, especially now we are handling all that nitro”

Archie sighed, the diatribe was so familiar he probably could have delivered it for Brewster himself. Still a couple of beers seemed to have calmed him down.

“anyway you don’t mind do you”

“Mind what” said Archie startled as he realised that he had probably turned off and screened out what Brewster had been saying.

“Pulling another shift tonight, I’ve got no-one else I can rely on now Simkins has gone off sick, if only John Drew hadn’t been called up, anyway if you could go in for 8 and cover till midnight that would really help. I can’t leave those women without a man to keep an eye, God knows what would happen.”

There was a pause in which Archie took another big swallow, he wasn’t really keen and he didn’t like going in after he’d been drinking.

“They’ll be a couple of quid more in your pay packet on Friday,” said Brewster temptingly.

“OK, I’ll do it”.



David Lloyd George viewed Haldane with distaste across the green baize table. The two cabinet and party colleagues were almost polar opposites, Lloyd George the man of the people who was rapidly heading towards the conservatives and Haldane the aristocrat who was showing an alarming sympathy for organized labour.

“So if the tories pull the plug on squiffy, you’ll follow him into the wilderness?”

Haldane sighed, tugged his waistcoat and looked back firmly.

“I see no reason to replace the PM and I despise the way in which you and the conservatives and the press have been undermining him.”

“So you’d split the party”

“No you’re the one that’s doing that”

Lloyd George sighed and looked out the window, somewhere out there men were dying in their thousands while the Government was stuck with an incompetent drunk as Prime Minister. There needed to be a change.


“Mr Williams, its stuck again”

Archie looked up from his bench to see the diminutive figure of Mabel Carlow. Despite the pallor of her complexion, one shared by all the workers at the Mills, she managed to look alluring. Most shifts she came to see him with a problem that only he could sort out. He grinned, stood up and picked up his tool bag.

“Well I’d best see what can be done then lass, can’t have your figures going down can we”

She smiled faintly and he thought that the slightly smutty comment had been worth it. Perhaps she’d fancy a drink, perhaps something more you never know, in these upside down days even a cripple like him could get a bit of comfort now and again. He made his slightly unsteady way with happy thoughts on his mind, turning his head to make sure Mabel was following

It was just as he was passing shell stack number one, carelessly placed alongside the nitroglycerine store, that he slipped on the oil, a wild slip that sent his tools high in the air, the huge wrench flying towards the nitro cage…..



DAILY MAIL 3Rd November 1916 Late Edition

HUGE EXPLOSION AT WALTHAM ABBEY GUNPOWDER MILLS
BLAST TURNED NIGHT TO DAY
THERE MAY BE A THOUSAND DEAD
HUNDREDS OF FAMILIES HOMELESS
SHELL STOCKS LIKELY TO BE AFFECTED
PRIME MINISTER TO FACE EMERGENCY DEBATE IN THE COMMONS.
 
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“Ladies and Gentlemen, brothers and sisters, we have been saying for the best part of a century that the demon drink will be the ruin of this nation, and now”

Constance Jones paused for dramatic effect, laying her hand across her bosom and gazing out at the meeting with a steadfast glare, surely they would see the rightness of the cause, surely now something would be done, there were many more people than usual, it must be to do with Waltham Abbey, the sight of the faces in front of her emboldened her…

“and now, we will be asking for, no, we will be doing more than asking, for we are not supplicants but saviours, savours of our nation, our youth, our men and our women, we will be demanding the end of the sale of all intoxicating liquor, before ruin and destruction befall us”


“Order, Order, The Prime Minister will now be making a statement”

The speaker gazed across anxiously as the dispatch box. Herbert Asquith was there, but that was no guarantee that he would say anything, or anything meaningful. For a moment he worried that the man had fallen asleep but no, he was standing, gripping the sides of the dispatch box to steady himself.

“The members of this house have asked me to come here today and speak….” Asquith stopped and looked around, why was everything slightly out of focus, perhaps Margot was right and he should go to see about new glasses.

“to speak so that we may clearly, see clearly and clearly know what has gone on, I mean gone wrong, clearly with the current disaster”

a muttering and murmuring began swelling behind him, ahead his new conservative partners looked at him in stony silence, oh well it was better than the abuse they used to shout when he was reforming the house of Lords.

“the untimely, and may I say tragic events at Waltham Abbey are a sad reminder of the risks, the risks of ……”

“drinking at work” came a voice from behind him

“of drinking at work, no that’s not it, of war work, yes, of the work in which our men and women are engaged so that we can hope to see, clearly one day, the enemy, defeated and our young men once more at home”

“at the rate that your going with this war there won’t be any young men left” came a voice from the far side of the chamber, one of the labour members no doubt, uncouth thugs all of them. Asquith swayed slightly and then belched loudly.

“the preliminary enquiry can find no particularly reason”

“the man was drunk, the man who was working in the area the explosion began, he was drunk prime minister, there are witnesses from the pub who saw him a couple of hours before the explosion, he was drunk” another voice came at him, this time from his own side.

“as I shaid, we do not know a clear and particular reason or impediment”

“your drunk man, you shouldn’t be doing this sit down and let someone sober run the country for a change”

Asquith turned to locate the accusing voice from his own backbenches, in doing so his hand slipped from the dispatch box and he slipped and fell sideways, landing on his abdomen his stomach gave an heave and its contents deposited themselves over the chancellor of the exchequor’s lap.

“Order Order”, came the speakers voice, “this session is suspended”


DAILY MAIL 15th November 1916

DRUNK IN CHARGE NO LONGER
ASQUITH RESIGNS LLOYD GEORGE MAY TAKE OVER
WILL THE COALITION HOLD



Haldane and Lloyd George faced each other again across the green baize. The meeting had been going on for three hours and both men were tired, but coming to an agreement.

“Very well we will accept you, I will talk to Grey and the others. Churchill will be for it I know, he’ll go wherever you do anyway. But there will be a price”

“And what will that be” asked Lloyd George

“Temperance, what with Waltham Abbey and a soak as PM the mood of the country is for it, we need a bill to ban alcohol now.”

“I can’t agree now, the affect on morale”

“Well we want your assurance that it will be part of the peace, a land fit for heroes is what people are saying, well our nonconformists want that land to be dry and that my friend is the price for the liberals staying with you in the coalition.”

Lloyd George looked out of the window again. It was a small thing, and anyway promises were always easy to wiggle out of.

“Agreed”, he said, he lent forward. “shall we shake hands on it?”
 
Oh my god

So you are using temperance to replace Asquith with Lloyd George and keep the Liberals together?

I like the idea!
 
“It’s happened again.”

“Oh my, where”

“Silvertown”

“Where on earth is that”

“It’s in the east end maam”

“Oh”, Constance paused for a moment. Waltham Abbey had been such a dramatic place for a disaster to show up the evils of drink. Even with wartime propaganda there was no hiding the ruins of the ancient abbey and several hundred dead. But the East End, death was so commonplace there, still sometimes you just needed one more event. It took several stones to start an avalanche but once it was going it was unstoppable. She framed the question that came to her mind -

“Were there any witnesses, you know like last time, to workers drinking”

“No, none”

“Pity, well perhaps some can be found, anyway I shall go up to the house and talk to our political masters, they must see that something must be done this time”


The room at the front of number 10 Downing Street had been the source of many fraught discussions over the last 10 years thought Winston, many weighty matters had been decided here, much anguish had been expressed, and as a consequence much blood had been shed. But this, this was absolutely ridiculous. McKenna was on his feet speaking again, the passion in his voice carrying him away as if the were the common people at the hustings though Churchill disgustedly:

“can you not see the evil that we have among us, through drink, it wastes time, it wastes money and now we can see that it wastes lives, once more hundreds of innocents have perished because some drunken sot..”

“we don’t know that yet though do we” said Churchill, defiantly nursing his whisky sans soda,

“I doubt if we will ever know what the cause was”, muttered Balfour, “the place should never have seen a license for the production of munitions, but after Waltham Abbey and with our press” he raised a hand in half mock surrender.

“Yes why have they suddenly become so wedded to the pledge, I mean have you ever met a sober journalist” muttered Lord Robert Cecil, his worthy Elizabethan ancestor perhaps psychically egging him on to the kind of measures taken against papists and puritans.

“It doesn’t matter why or where its coming from the fact is that its here and we have to do something gentlemen,” said the Prime Minister. “Now I didn’t want to have this out in full cabinet without a more gentle discussion first so that we can come to some reasonable compromise, that will satisfy this agitation, without….”

“depriving me of my drink” boomed Churchill.

“well yes,”

“And you can’t touch the navy you know, that tot of rum keeps them going up at Scapa, you’ll have Spithead and Nore all over again, just what we need with the frogs starting to go all wobbly”

“Winston I wish you wouldn’t be abusive about our allies” sighed Lloyd George, “it’ll get back to them. So” he gazed at the rest of the room, “does anyone have a proposal”

It was the sole labour member, Arthur Henderson, who raised his head above the parapet, “as a matter of fact I do he said”


The managing director’s office at Truman Hanbury and Buxton in Brick Lane was normally a calm place. Well above the clamour of the yard below and the various sheds where the brewing took place. Not today. Angry voices were raised, tables thumped and feet pounded the floor.

“they are not really going to do this are they” demanded Arthur Wilkins, Head of Brewing.

“Looks like it, but least there are exemptions”

“Such as”

“Armed forces on leave, they will have special canteens in their barracks”

“And the house of commons as well I would guess”

“But from midnight on 30th June all public houses and places serving alcohol, apart from resturants that are still allowed to serve wine, will close”

“its barmy, and its prejudiced against the working class” that came from the union rep.

“Well your man in the government Henderson, proposed it”

That just produced a snort.

“So what are we going to do”

“Well at present its limited to England and Wales so we will just have to sell all the harder to the Irish and the Scotts”

“Could we export more to America”

“ What with all those U-boats, are you mad, beside they want to shut down the demon drink as well. Perhaps we’d better move into soft drinks like that guy from, who were they?”

“CoKa Koala I think it was”

“Yeah perhaps we should have listened to them”

"The managing director sighed, "at least people can still drink in their homes, we can still sell off licence, cut back on the barrels and get some more glass from somewhere we are going to be selling a lot more bottles I would guess
 
Do note that miners would head to the pub straight after work to drink the dust out of their lungs. Publicans would also sprinkle salt in their drinks to make up for all that lost working.

Miners drinking heavily was of course part of the reason that square temperance types wanted to impose their view in places like South Wales.

I don't know if I can see off-sales properly replacing the idea of the pub, or will they be expected to drink non-alcoholic drinks in the pubs? TBH I think trying to keep the pubs open but selling stuff other than beer would not work, would be unenforcible etc

You're going to need troops in these areas to enforce things IMHO

Best Regards
Grey Wolf
 
Do note that miners would head to the pub straight after work to drink the dust out of their lungs. Publicans would also sprinkle salt in their drinks to make up for all that lost working.

Miners drinking heavily was of course part of the reason that square temperance types wanted to impose their view in places like South Wales.

I don't know if I can see off-sales properly replacing the idea of the pub, or will they be expected to drink non-alcoholic drinks in the pubs? TBH I think trying to keep the pubs open but selling stuff other than beer would not work, would be unenforcible etc

You're going to need troops in these areas to enforce things IMHO

Best Regards
Grey Wolf

Hi thanks for the comments, I would say that a lot of this TL is intentionally a bit tongue in cheek but also the law hasn't been passed and enforced yet. I guess I am a bit like the government here in that I have a poorly thought out policy which is being implemented for mainly political reasons and which will have a whole load of unintended consequences.

BTW do you have any idea of how the Volstead Act was received by similar working class communities in the USA?

I don't envisage this happening for as long but it is going to happen and there are going to be some consequences, both amusing and tragic, and my apologies in advance if it stretches credulity, you can always suggest it gets moved to ASB if I get over-enthusiastic.

Best wishes Colin
 
And given Churchill's love of the bottle, the consequences could be...interesting.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I give to you, the new Prime Minister of Ireland...Winston Churchill!" :D
 

J.D.Ward

Donor
I would say that a lot of this TL is intentionally a bit tongue in cheek

How does German propaganda make use of this enforced change in the British way of life?

I was thinking of starting with a leaflet drop over London, exhorting the common decent people of Britain to rise up against their oppressive government. This would include photographs, showing not only German soldiers and German civilians, but also British POWs, all enjoying good German beer and wine.

The next stage is probably borderline ASB, but is there any way with 1916 technology of delivering beer by parachute, as a gesture of goodwill to the British people?
 
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