Despite controlling one-third of the world’s landmass and one-quarter of its population at its peak in the late 19th century, one really has to wonder if the English are even civilized in the first place. As Indian historian and MP Dr. Shashi Tharoor stated in a 2015 speech at Oxford University, “No wonder the sun never set on the British Empire… even God couldn’t trust the English in the dark.”

In G.J. Renier’s The English: Are They Human?, the author sets out to examine why the English are the way they are; it’s not an easy task. Despite the title being absolutely hilarious, the book itself is somewhat humorous, but overall quite academic. This, to me, is quite disappointing. Thus, I am setting out to improve upon his work, and find some case studies that properly shed light on what makes the English such an absurd people. Fortunately, there’s so much out there to choose from. After careful research, it is my conclusion that the English cannot be considered human.

Why?

In one of our most egregious of cases yet, they once flooded their capital with beer – and didn’t even drink it all up afterwards. 

THE LONDON BEER FLOOD

Date: October 17, 1814

Location: Horse Shoe Brewery, London

At [DFO], we never let a single drop of alcohol go to waste. To do anything less is to have committed complete and utter defeat. This is part of why today’s story pains me so. Alcohol kills people all the time, but it tends to be a slower, more gradual death, as opposed to the violent, painful, and abrupt variety – a most inhumane end fit for a most inhumane people. 

Our sad tale begins in the afternoon of October 17, 1814 – right in the throes of the early Industrial Revolution. Two centuries prior, the Horse Shoe Brewery, owned by Meux & Company, stood at the corner of Oxford Street and Tottenham Court Road, in the area of London known as St. Giles. During this era, the St. Giles Rookery was one of London’s most notorious slums – crawling with the destitute and the derelict, the houses of this neighborhood were poorly constructed, dirty, and cramped. The brewery was one of the only positive aspects of the neighborhood, and it was a highly profitable enterprise for Meux  & Co.

In 1810, the brewers installed a fancy new wooden fermentation tank, 22 feet high and bound together by massive iron rings (80 long-tons’ worth) – it was large enough to hold 18,000 imperial barrels of ale. The brewery was one of London’s busiest and largest – and demand for fresh beer kept the machinery going like clockwork.  However, despite the high demand for beer, the brewery kept the costs down with this vat design – due to the pressure of fermentation, the iron rings slipped off the barrel two or three times a year, and had to be reset lest the entire thing collapse in disaster. 

On this fateful day in 1814, the iron rings came off the top of the barrel once again. The storehouse clerk, George Crick, made note of the slippage, but was mostly unconcerned. Big mistake.

One hour later, the barrel exploded. 

With such a violent eruption of brown porter ale, the pressure knocked the stopcock off a second giant vat… which also burst. 

In all, somewhere between 128,000-323,000 imperial gallons of beer flooded out of the brewery into St. Giles rookery, creating tidal waves up to fifteen feet high in places. 

(I’m not crying, you’re crying.)

The giant beer flood completely wrecked the back wall of the brewery, destroyed two houses, and badly damaged two more. Eight people were killed in the flood, including a mother and daughter having afternoon tea, as well as an Irish family holding a wake for a two-year-old boy. Several brewery workers had to be pulled out from under the rubble left in the explosion’s wake. 

So much beer spilled out that the citizens of London came out and just started drinking it, filling up whatever vessels they could get their hands on in order to bring it home. (Rumours abound that a ninth victim died a few days later… from alcohol poisoning.) 

In the aftermath of the disaster, some unfortunate families even resorted to displaying the drowned corpses in public, for a fee… meanwhile, the stench of beer lasted for months afterward in St. Giles Rookery. 

All in all, the London Beer Flood almost bankrupted Meux & Co; fortunately, in court, the accident was found to be an “Act of God” and they were found not criminally responsible for the damage inflicted on the city. The lost beer cause a serious dent in earnings, worth around 23,000 pounds (around 1.25 million in modern valuation); however, the English government awarded the brewers 7,250 pounds as compensation for the lost beer, and they also reclaimed the excise tax on subsequent batches in order to stave off bankruptcy. 

As part of the aftermath of the disaster, the wooden fermentation cask was eventually replaced with a lined concrete vat, which became the industry standard in the UK. The Horse Shoe survived until 1922, and the Dominion Theatre now exists on its former location in London. 

As for the English? They continue to remain as drunk and inhuman as always. 

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Information for this article taken from here and here.