JOHN DOWIE'S TAVERN

JK GILLON

John Dowie

Dowie's Tavern

The teeming nature of life in 18th century Edinburgh elevated the Old Town's taverns to a critical role in the city's social life. 'Intemperance was the rule and no man of the day thought himself able to dispense with the Meridian' (the drink taken at midday). Much of the business life of the city was carried out in taverns and it was even normal for doctors to consult their patients there.

One of the most popular establishments was John Dowie's Tavern in Libberton's Wynd, a narrow land sloping down to the Cowgate, just to the east of the junction of the present day High Street and George IV Bridge. This 'perfect specimen of tavern' was run by 'Dainty' John Dowie. The most eminent citizens, including David Hume and Burns, frequented Dowie's 'quaint house of entertainment for its congenial company and good fare'.

The following description was typical of the taverns of the day: 'a great portion of this house was without light, consisting of a series of windowless chambers, decreasing in size till the smallest was a mere box, of irregular oblong shape, designated the Coffin'. The largest room could accommodate fourteen people, the Coffin held four, at a squeeze, and only two of the rooms had windows.

The Tavern was renowned for its Archibald Younger's Edinburgh Ale, 'a potent fluid which almost glued the lips of the drinker together and of which few could despatch more than a bottle' and was also famed for its 'petit soupers', the speciality of the house being Nor' Loch eel pie.

John Dowie was the 'sleekest and kindest of all landlords' and 'conscientious as to money matters'. He left a substantial fortune when he died in 1817. The new owner of the Tavern displayed on his signboard the name 'Burns Tavern late Johnnie Dowie'; capitalising on the fame of the previous landlord and the link with Burns.

JOHNNIE DOWIE'S ALE

A' ye wha wis', on e'enings lang,
To meet an' crack, and sing a sang,
And weet your pipes, for little wrang,
To purse or person,
To sere Johnnie Dowie's gang,
There thrum a verse on.

O, Dowie's ale! Thou art the thing,
That gars us crack, and gars us sing,
Cast by our cares, our wants a?ing
Fraw us wi' anger;
Thou e'en mak'st passion tak the wing,
Or thou wilt bang 'er.

How blest is he wha has a groat
To spare upon the cheering pot;
He may look blithe as ony Scot
That e'er was born:
Gie's a' the like, but wi' a coat,
And guide frae scorn.

But thinkna that strong ale alone
Is a' that's kept by dainty John;
Na, na; for in the place there's none,
Frae end to end,
For meat can set you better on,
Than can your friend.

Wi' looks a mild as mild can be,
An' smudgin' laugh, wi' winkin' e'e;
An' lowly bow down to his knee,
He'll say fu' douce,
'Whe, gentlemen, stay till I see,
What's i' the house.'

Anither bow, 'Deed, gif ye please,
Ye can get a bit toasted cheese,
A crum o' tripe, ham, dish o' pease,
(The season fittin',)
An egg, or, cauler frae from the seas,
A fleuk or whitin';

A nice beefsteak, or ye may get
A gude buff'd herring, reisted skate,
An' ingans, an' (tho' past its date),
A cut o' veal;
Ha, ha, it's no that unco late,
I'll do it weel.'

Then pray for's health this mony year,
Fresh three-'n-a-ha' penny, best o?r,
That can (tho' dull) you brawly cheer-
Recant you week up;
An' gar you a' forget your wear-
Your sorrows seal up.


John Dowie

Tastes of Paradise: A Social History of Spices, Stimulants, and Intoxicants
Tastes of Paradise: A Social History of Spices, Stimulants, and Intoxicants

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