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Smells are a form of intangible heritage that we have largely lost in the UK – and the once-ubiquitous burnt biscuit aroma given off by a town’s maltings is one of the odours that has effectively disappeared since the 1970s. By the 18th century, maltings were to be found in almost every sizeable town, used for converting cereal grain into malt, a process that was designed to turn the starch content in the grain into fermentable sugars, first by encouraging the grain to germinate then by stopping the germination by drying the grains. It was the drying by means of a slow-burning kiln that gave off the once-familiar aroma.
Ancient origins
We have evidence of malting and beer production in Mesopotamia dating from the 3rd millennium BC and from Egypt as early as 1960 BC. Recently, it has been suggested that the smooth puddled chalk and clay floors of some of the huts at Durrington Walls might have served as germination floors; if so, that provides evidence for Neolithic malt production dating to c.2500 BC.
The process is described in the works of Herodotus (484-c.425 BC), Aristotle (384-322 BC), Pliny (AD 23/24-79), and Tacitus (AD 56-c.120), and there are numerous examples of kilns from Romano-British sites. Some were purpose-built, and later versions made use of the hypocaust system of a redundant villa. Though they are routinely described as corn-driers, they could equally have been used as malting kilns. In particular, Romano-British kilns with a T-shaped flue and a solid chalk floor are likely to have been used for this purpose – like the circular corn-dryer excavated in 1960-1963 at Old Sleaford, Lincolnshire; the mid-2nd-century timber-framed barn-like structure at Beck Row, Mildenhall, Suffolk; and the kilns at Frocester Court Roman villa, in Gloucestershire.
Moving into the medieval
An early medieval kiln is currently under excavation at Sedgeford, Norfolk (see CA 379), and this has evidence for one, possibly two steeping cisterns – used at the start of the malting process for soaking the grain to encourage germination – as well as at least two (and possibly three or more) drying kilns with clay floors. Overlying the kilns are the remains of collapsed and burnt timber and wattle-and-daub walls. Accidental fires were an occupational hazard throughout the history of malting, and it is possible that the kilns at Sedgeford represent a sequence of malthouses, each built after the destruction of its predecessor.
By the high medieval period, there are frequent references to malting in monastic documents. Battle Abbey records, dating from c.1190, describe malt-making as something the monks ‘have been accustomed to do’, implying a long-standing practice; there are also references to wood being brought to the abbey as fuel for the malting kiln. From the 14th century onwards, the number of references to malting, to the use of mills for grinding malted grain, and to the sale of different types of malt show that the practice was commonplace and geographically widespread. Amber Patrick, author of the recently published history of malting industry buildings (see ‘Further reading’ below), singles out for mention an inventory of the goods and chattels of Arnald Monteny, of Mountnessing, in Essex, dating from 1386: his possessions included hairclothes, steeping vats, and leaden cisterns, as well as horse-mill quern stones, used for grinding the dried and malted grain.
Physical kilns from the high medieval period have survived at several monastic sites. At Lindisfarne Priory, Northumberland, there is a stone-built kiln of 14th- to 15th-century date, alongside a well and a steeping cistern. Excavations at Thornholme Priory, Lincolnshire, uncovered the remains of a kiln house and flue adjacent to a brewhouse. A feature of this kiln was the use of stone pillars to support what was probably a timber drying floor. At Castle Acre Priory, Norfolk, there are the substantial remains of structures indicative of malting and brewing on a commercial scale, with several phases of building, including circular stone-built kilns with stoke holes and solid floors.
These kilns all had permanent floors and used indirect heating to dry the green malt, drawing hot air into the drying chamber from an external fire using a flue arrangement. Direct drying above a furnace became increasingly common in the later medieval period. A well-preserved 12th- to 13th-century example of such a furnace was excavated at Brixworth, Northamptonshire, in 2014. It was constructed of stone blocks, with walls battered outwards at an angle of 25° to 35°, so that the top of the chamber was more than twice as large in area as the base: the bottom measured 1m by 1.27m (3ft 4in by 4ft 2in), while the top measured 1.9m by 1.9m (6ft 3in). A stoke hole gave access to the burnt base of the furnace chamber for feeding the fire and removing ashes.
Similar examples have been found at Barrow, in Rutland, and at Kimberley, in Nottinghamshire, while a complex of steeping cisterns associated with 28 circular malting ovens has been found in Nottingham’s cave system. The lack of a permanent drying floor in all these examples implies that removable timber planking was used, which in turn supported a hair cloth on to which the green malt was laid. The kiln superstructure was probably conical and made of cob or clay; it needed to be tall enough to allow for adequate air circulation and probably had some sort of vent or cowl to enable moist air to escape. Fireproofing must have been a constant concern, especially with a thatched roof: the excavation evidence shows that clay tiles were used to roof the kilns at Castle Acre, while those at Home Grange, Bridlington Priory, Yorkshire, are recorded as having lead and slate roofs.
Making the grade
The quality of the malt produced using these various types of early kiln must have been variable, and there were occasional disputes between brewers and their suppliers complaining about the inferior quality of the bulk quantities supplied to them, compared to the samples that they were shown prior to purchase. Sale documents also distinguish between ‘high-grade’ and ‘regular’ malt.
The desire for greater consistency and higher quality is evident from the passing of the Malt Act by Parliament in 1548 stipulating a minimum drying period of 21 days, or 17 days in June, July, and August, compared to the eight or nine days of common practice. Shorter drying periods left the grain with too high a moisture content, as a result of which the malt risked becoming musty and attracting weevils, ‘whereby no wholesome drink… can by any means be made’. The same Act made it a crime to mix good with ‘evil’ malt, and gave full power to local authorities to test malt offered for sale and to fine those found to be breaking the new law.
At about the same time, the first publications began to appear describing the malt-making process. These publications are confusing in places, and none of them agrees in every detail, but it is from these works that we can gain an insight into pre-industrial malt production. One of the most influential was Gervase Markham’s The English Housewife, first published in 1615 and subtitled: ‘the inward and outward vertues which ought to be in a compleat woman, as her skill in Physicke, Cookery, Banqueting-stuffe, Distillation, Perfumes, Wool, Hemp, Flax, Dayries, Brewing, Baking, and all other things belonging to a Houshold’. It is interesting to note the implication that brewing was seen as a woman’s job, though by this date malting was already moving out of the farm and the domestic sphere and becoming a specialist process. Although many households continued to produce beer for their own consumption or for sale locally until the mid-18th century, they would increasingly buy their malt, rather than producing their own.
Ale in a day’s work
The first stage in the malting process is the steeping of the grain (usually barley, though wheat and oats were also used) in water for 72 hours to start the germination process. Markham advises that a stone tank is best for this purpose, because it is easy to keep clean, whereas wooden vats were liable to become mouldy and taint the grain, or dry out and leak. The cistern should be raised 18in (0.45m) above the ground and be provided with a drain hole to enable the plug to be removed at the end of three days and three nights, so that the water could be drained off gradually over the course of a day.
Stone steeps of 17th-century date corresponding to this description have survived at Blacker Hall Farm, Crigglestone, Yorkshire; at Chipping Campden, Gloucestershire; and at the Lamb and Fountain Inn, Castle Street, Frome, Somerset. The first of these is in a separate lean-to shed from the germination floors, while the others are within the same building.
The steeped grain was then rested for another period of up to 72 hours in a rectangular couching frame, before the barley was laid out to grow on a germinating floor. The aim was to maintain as even a temperature as possible at this stage (ideally between 13°C and 15°C), and Markham says that caves or cellars hewn out of rock were best for this purpose (hence the Nottingham complex). In a malthouse, ventilation was provided by windows and louvres in one of the long elevations of the building that could be opened or closed as required to increase or reduce the air flow depending on whether it was hot or cold outside.
The best kind of germinating floor, according to Markham, was one made of puddled clay mixed with horse dung and wood ash. Wood was not ideal as a germinating floor because it stored heat, though oak would be cool enough if used from October to February. A plain earth floor was not considered to be suitable and stone was too liable to sweat, while lime was too brittle and prone to breaking up. Despite these strictures, many of the surviving 17th-century examples, of which there a dozen or so, do have floors of earth, lime, or stone.
The depth of the pile of germinating grain depended on the time of year: up to 4ft (1.2m) in winter and 2ft (0.6m) in warmer weather. The grain was left for three days and nights without being turned. Then, as the roots began to emerge, the heap was spread to a third of its original depth. Over the course of the next ten days, it would be turned and spread again at regular intervals – up to four or five times a day in warm weather – to prevent the roots matting together. Further spreading eventually resulted in a pile that was c.10cm (4in) deep and hence covering an area six to ten times larger than the original heap. It was this need for a large floor area that would eventually influence the scale and design of specialist maltings.
After a fortnight, the green malt was moved to the kiln, where it would be laid to a depth of about 7cm (3in) on a hair cloth. This was supported in turn on a bed of rushes or straw laid on timber planking. Kilning was necessary to arrest the germination and to reduce the moisture content in the grain from around 43% to the 3% necessary for safe storage and for subsequent milling, while also giving colour and flavour to the malt.
Numerous documentary sources agree with Markham’s advice that wheat straw was the best type of fuel for the kiln, because it burned long and slow without too much flame or smoke. Well-withered rushes were the next preferred fuel; if these were not available, rye, barley, and oat straw could be used, as well as the stems of peas, vetches, lupins, and beans, gorse, bracken, broom, or heather. Wood, if used, needed to be well dried. Turf or peat were not used because the smoke tainted the resulting malt, and coal was avoided until the invention of smokeless coke and anthracite. There are surprisingly few references to the use of charcoal – perhaps because it burned too hot – the ideal temperature for drying was 31°C for pale malt (used for lighter beer) and 46°C for brown malt (for darker beer).
Kilning lasted from one to four days, and the malted grain was sufficiently dried when the culms, or rootlets, fell off. After cooling for five hours, the hair cloth was gathered at the four corners and the malt emptied into storage bins called garners, where they would ‘ripen’ for one to three months (again weather dependent) before winnowing to remove the culms. They were now ready to supply to brewers for milling and beer production.
Building an industry
Chipping Campden, Gloucestershire, has one of the best surviving examples of a late-17th-century malthouse. This occupies the burgage plot to the rear of the house fronting the western end of the High Street. Built in stone under a plain tile roof with air vents in the roof slope and ridge, it retains all the elements described by Markham, including grain-storage bins, steeping cistern, couching and germination floors (made of gypsum mixed with coal and brick dust), furnace and drying floor, and garners.
The Chipping Campden malthouse is typical of the other partially surviving 17th- and 18th-century maltings in being constructed in vernacular style from locally available materials. Many also follow the pattern of being constructed on urban burgage plots – examples are found to the rear of houses fronting the High Streets in Ware, Hertfordshire; Ashbourne, Derbyshire; and Newent, Gloucestershire. Some are attached to the rear of an inn – the Bridge Inn, Topsham, Devon, for example; or the Lamb and Fountain, Frome, Somerset; or the Eight Bells, Saffron Walden, Essex.
Some continued to conform to Markham’s description of cave maltings: at Windmill Place, Minchinhampton, Gloucestershire, the germination floors are located in two barrel-vaulted cellars underneath the two-storey house. A similar barrel-vaulted cellar of limewashed brick survives at Maltkiln House, Mattersey, Nottinghamshire, and a third underground maltings lies under the front lawn of the Malthouse, in Alton, Staffordshire, adjacent to the steeping cisterns and kiln located beneath the house.
As a rule, pre-19th-century maltings were small and numerous: Tewkesbury, in Gloucestershire, had 42 malthouses in 1780, and Derby had 76. However, by the 19th century, malting and brewing had become steadily more commercial and industrialised, and increasingly subject to legislation and taxation. The Malt Act of 1827 set out strict regulations for malt production and listed 101 penalties for transgressors. Opponents said the Government was creating a monopoly for commercial concerns and contributing to inequality by preventing householders and local breweries from making their own beer. Commercial producers were equally unhappy, and the newly formed Association of Maltsters of the United Kingdom rapidly recruited 1,800 members calling for the repeal of the Malt Act’s ‘labyrinthine regulations’. These prescribed every step in the malt-production process; Association members said this was a ‘considerable nuisance even to the most law-abiding maltster’ and would hinder innovation and technological development.
The Association was successful in negotiating reform, and nearly two-thirds of the regulations and penalties had been repealed by 1830. However, the impact was long-lasting in that new maltings were now increasingly designed by architects and engineers, guided by technical publications such as William Ford’s A Practical Treatise on Malting and Brewing (1849).
Modern models
Thus began the era of larger purpose-designed buildings that took on the typical forms that we associate with maltings today: large multi- storey structures, often of brick, had one or more tall slate-roofed ventilation cowls rising above the kiln, which was usually located at one end of the building. This was all alongside extensive germination floors supported by timber or cast-iron columns. Ford provided a formula for calculating the floor area: 200 square feet for every quarter of a gallon of tank capacity. The width of the floor should be half the length – longer, narrower floors led to differential germination and uneven drying temperatures at the extremities.
Typically, the new generation of maltings were buildings six storeys in height with louvred shutters to regulate the air supply, as opposed to glass. Slate floors came into common use, as well as Portland cement, or a mix of lime, sand, and ashes. Woven wire was considered best for distributing heat evenly as a kiln floor; ceramic tiles and punched iron was cheaper but gave too great a resistance to the heated air. Kiln roofs were steep and lofty to carry off moisture and avoid evaporation within the kiln.
Because so many historic maltings have now been converted to other uses, we are reliant on architects’ drawings and influential publications – such as Malt and Malting by Henry Stopes (1885) and Breweries and Maltings: their arrangement, construction, machinery and plant by George Scammell (1880) – for our detailed understanding of their internal workings. Patrick’s book draws on these and on the various industrial archaeology surveys that she and others undertook to record internal features and people at work in the last of the traditional maltings from the mid-1970s.
The point is also well made in Patrick’s book that maltings have been repurposed throughout history and vice versa. A malthouse was converted to a workhouse in 1778, and Derby’s first theatre, in Bold Lane, was created from a former malthouse in 1773, whereas Oswestry’s theatre was converted to a malthouse in the 1850s. Cultural reuse has been important in maltings history – Snape Maltings, one of the largest in the world, with buildings spread across seven acres, found a new life as the home of the Aldeburgh Festival of Music when it closed in 1965.
Vice versa, the flax mill at Ditherington, near Shrewsbury, in Shropshire, hailed as the first iron-framed building in the world and the ‘grandparent of the skyscraper’ (CA 313), is now officially known as Shrewsbury Flaxmill Maltings in recognition of its use as a malthouse from 1897 until its closure in 1987. This remains one of the few such buildings to have retained its internal features – and, with only a handful of traditional maltings left intact in England, is in itself a very good additional reason for a visit to this important Grade I-listed building.
Further reading:
Amber Patrick, The Buildings of the Malting Industry (Liverpool University Press on behalf of Historic England, £44, ISBN 978-1837644285).
All images: Amber Patrick, unless otherwise stated
