What’s left of great Welsh brewery whose famous red beers fell victim to the ‘demon drink’ backlash
More than a century after the brewery closed, its name has been adopted by a trendy craft beer maker,
FOR six decades, its strong and potent “red beers” were the toast of Anglesey. Mona Brewery ales were stocked in all the island’s best local hotels and some on the Gwynedd mainland too.
Today the old malting rooms and hop store lie shrouded in ivy, its Victorian kiln tower long gone and its millpond dried up. The former brewer’s house, an imposing residence, is privately owned and the old archway, through which the brewery’s drays once pulled barrels of beer, is blocked up.
But for a little while, the Llanfachraeth business flared so brightly that its owners played croquet on the lawn and grew peaches and nectarines in their three glasshouses. Barley harvesting was so popular with local youngsters that school attendances slumped and teachers were dispatched to catch the truants.
It wasn’t to last. Emerging competition dented profits and efforts to stay afloat fell victim to the one thing few breweries could withstand: putting the final nail in the barrel was the Temperance movement.
During its 60-year existence, local businesses like Mona Brewery were an important and familiar part of everyday life in Anglesey, according to Gordon Stone, writing for the Brewery History Society. “They should be remembered for this and not forgotten,” he said.
The earliest reference to the brewery is an 1836 baptism in Calvinistic Methodists records, when the father, Thomas Williams, was listed as maltster. The then-owners, and probable founders, were farm tenants John Jones and his wife, Margaret, who were to steward the business for most of its existence.
It was a good time to launch a brewery but the farmland location was unusual. At the time, beer-making was concentrated in industrial areas where thirsty ironworkers and coalminers made ready customers for local pubs and taverns.
On Anglesey, brewing was centred on the town of Amlwch, which catered for workers retreating from Parys Mountain after shifts in its great copper mines.
But in the early 19th century the consumption of beer and spirits in Wales had reached new highs, and perhaps the Jones family eyed an opportunity.
Despite the lack of nearby customers, and good transport links, Mona Brewery had one vital ingredient in its favour: its mineral-rich water, pumped from a deep well, was excellent for ale making.
The business, Jones & Co, quickly took off. By 1845, 10 workers were employed at the brewery.
Enthusiasts included the Rev GJ Hughes, a clerk in holy orders, who enjoyed Mona ales so much he became a subscriber.
Things were going well enough for Mr and Mrs Jones to employ four servants, two male and two female.
There was the occasional setback. In November 1848 the Liverpool Mercury reported an occupational hazard for a brewer who grew his own barley, reared pigs and milked cattle.
According to the newspaper, Mr Jones lost “four valuable milch cows which died in consequence of eating over-much of fresh grains from the brewery”.
To push sales, one particular hurdle had to be overcome. A bridge over the Afon Alaw was in a “very unsatisfactory state”.
In May 1855, Mr Jones signed a £130 bond with masons Richard and John Jones to widen and repair the bridge, then listed as “Pont Havron”. At a stroke, this ensured the brewery could catch the 10pm train at Valley station, thus opening up beer distribution by road and rail to the rest of Anglesey and beyond.
Another innovation was the introduction of mechanisation, though the novelty and lack of safety were to have disastrous consequences for one employee.
In April 1859 an inquest was held into the death of a young man killed by machinery at Mona Brewery.
Otherwise, business prospered, though the playing of croquet in the brewery’s walled garden was to set local tongues wagging.
By now, known customers included the Bull Hotel in Llangefni and the King’s Head Arms in Holyhead. Another was Y Castell Hotel in Caernarfon.
An 1868 advert for Jones & Co boasted its “celebrated ales are highly recommended for purity and excellent flavour”.
A variety of flavours were available, probably based on a dark, strong mild that was common at this time.
Staff were not immune to the beers’ potency.
In 1873, employee Robert Roberts was fined for being drunk at Valley Hotel.
Just as things were going well, the business was about to take a sharp turn. Gordon Stone wrote: “At a time when the business appears to be running on a sound and profitable basis, the death of John Jones in December 1870 comes to represent an unfortu
nate watershed for the stability of the brewery.”
His widow, Margaret Jones, took over as maltster and brewer, working alongside their two sons. Six years later, in March 1876, she still felt endowed with enough largesse to donate £710 – about £65,000 today – towards the new Llanfachraeth Board School, the first Board School in Anglesey.
The land for the school was given by Maria Conway Griffith, daughter of Richard Trygarn Griffith, of the Carreglwyd Estate, on which Mona Brewery was tenanted.
Later, Maria was to emerge as the brewery’s nemesis through her involvement in the Temperance movement.
By the late 19th century it was estimated that about a tenth of British adults were total abstainers from alcohol.
In Wales, where the movement gained extra traction, supporters raged against the perils of the “demon drink”.
Their greatest triumph was the Sunday closing of public houses in 1881.
A year before, Maria, 40, married
Sir Chandos Hoskins Reade, 28.
As a Temperance enthusiast, Lady Reade organised the building of coffee houses and reading rooms, although, it was said, she herself was not a total abstainer.
Stanhope
When pub leases expired, she refused to renew them. Some were closed down, such as the Golden Horseshoe in 1882 and the King’s Head in 1890. Others, like the Holland Hotel in Llanfachraeth, became a reading room for a time.
“The effect of this was to reduce the number of probable outlets supplied by the brewery,” suggested Mr Stone.
Worse was to come.
In 1890, Sir Chandos died of alcoholism, a victim of the brewery’s produce.
It was rumoured, wrongly, that the brewery was burnt to the ground by his vengeful widow, owner of the estate on which it stood.
By then, Margaret Jones had already shuffled to her grave. She ran the brewery for 12 years after her husband’s death, but towards the end, business was stalling and debts were mounting. In February 1882 she filed a petition for liquidation at Bangor bankruptcy court.
The brewery’s liabilities amounted to £3,100 – almost £300,000 today.
It must have been heartwrenching for her to watch a public sale of the brewery’s assets the following month. A few months later, in August, she died, aged 63.
Margaret’s eldest daughter, Sarah, had married David Williams and they were running Mona Stores, a retail outlet for the brewery. It appears he took over the site, now owned by D Williams & Co.
However, production dwindled and the final brew was made in 1895.
In 1900 another auction was held and 12 months later the brewery was sold.
Terms of the sale stipulated that no further brewing was to take place.
The story didn’t quite end there. In 2019, a new craft brewery was launched on Gaerwen Industrial Estate by seven friends. Bragdy Mona Brewery was driven by the late Huw Jones, a talented brewer who was inspired by Anglesey’s heritage, language and history.
The name chosen was, in part, in homage to its 19th-century predecessor.
Bragdy Mona produces specialist beer in designer cans with historic Anglesey references. Dafydd Jones, from the brewery, said history may soon turn full circle.
“We are progressing as well as we might expect in what is a difficult economic climate,” he said. “We’re now investing in equipment to cask our beers for the pub trade, which was a sector we were hoping to target before the pandemic.”