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| A Personal Recollection of the
American Eagle / Bag o' Nails in (relatively) recent times - by 'A Gentleman' The American Eagle My first encounter with the 'Bag' came in the early 80's when I was working in Hotwells and wandered in, in search of lunch. I ordered half a pint of beer to be going on with and settled down to read the paper. I quickly apprehended three things of significance: the beer was unexpectedly good , the lights appeared to be flickering in a manner which suggested imminent failure of the electrical system and my food had arrived in a bijou liftette at the end of the bar. I took delivery of my meal and asked about the beer, yes it really was Courage best - but it tasted wonderful - I never knew it could taste like that. Lunch over, as I prepared to leave, it occurred to me to mention the flickering lights, only to be told by the landlord, that gas lights do that sort of thing. Er... Together we gazed in admiration at the flickering mantles. It's not a Wine Bar - It's my Local! What a find! Food, good beer, gas lights, dumb waiter and what's more – there were glass portholes in the floor through which you could see into the celler (you actually could see through them in those days); I was hooked! As I left and headed back to work, I noticed that the “pub”, called the American Eagle, advertised its self as a wine bar; if I'd seen that earlier, I probably wouldn't have gone in! The Eagle became my local; under the landlord, Nigel Poole, the wine bar trappings soon fell away and for me at least, this was the best pub for miles. Good Times to Bad Nigel stayed at the Eagle for some years; my work took me out of town, but I still managed to visit from time to time. Eventually, Nigel moved on and the next time I used the pub, it was being run by Ian and Dot. After Ian's untimely death however, the pub went through a bad time and eventually ended up closed and boarded up. It remained like this for perhaps eighteen months and then one night as I was driving home from working late, I noticed that the lights were on. On impulse, I decided to go and have a look. I expected to be disappointed, and I wasn't disappointed! I had to admit that the refurbishment had been tastefully done, both outside and in, but that wasn't the point; some bugger had changed the name! Bristling with indignation, I headed for the door and prepared to bitch! The Bag o' Nails The place was empty, save for a large gentleman who was making a creditable effort at filling it himself! With more than a passing resemblance to Jimmy Edwards, sporting a bow tie, official bar-tending apron and the most amazing moustache, he certainly looked the part. Both the pub and the landlord had an old fashioned, no nonsense feel to them; the television which had blighted the place in the past had been removed, and the beer (I think there were only two pumps on at the time ) was excellent... Never the less, I mentioned the name change thing and was told that it had been done to give the pub a fresh start. I asked if he'd considered going for the Irish theme pub look - the room temperature fell by several degrees! So, good look and feel, excellent beer, no problem finding a seat and voice activated air conditioning! I went back the next night. Crime and Punishment Times must have been hard for Gordon those first few weeks as customers enthusiastically went elsewhere; but as word got around, trade began to slowly build up. Gordon knew exactly what he wanted the pub to be and pursued his goal without compromise; his own standards were high and he expected nothing less from his customers. Swearing, bad or even boisterous behaviour was frowned upon and was invariably punished severely! Burning with righteous indignation, Gordon would loom over the miscreants and demand that they conduct themselves in a proper manner. The man was a Victorian! We, that is everyone who was not on the wrong side of this, would revel in the OTT public humiliation of the wrong doers. You knew where you were with Gordon; he made it perfectly clear. Now I've Got a Mate Called Smith I was now most definitely a regular again and to amuse myself, I started collecting John Smith's & Fosters beer mats which I would then (when Gorden wasn't looking) distribute at random around the pub; they were always 'hoovered' up within minutes; I never saw him do it though, they just disappeared . Spooky! A Change of Hands As the pub got busier and more pumps appeared on the bar, Gordon took on help; there was Freddy who went on to run the White Lion on the centre and Geoff Syce who soon became Gordon's number two. In these capable hands, the pub continued to thrive and develop. The amazing 'Doc' turned up and there was port and stilton every two weeks. I was there most nights, where else could I go? With Geoff in control, Gordon spent less and less time behind the bar, and when he finally decided to retire, he passed on the pub to Geoff. The Bag carried on with Geoff at the helm for several years, until his brother in law, Alan Dean took over in 2005. I was quite concerned at this change of command, but I needn't have worried, as apart from a lick of paint and a few new tiles, it was just more of the same. Good thing too! Alan began to take a back seat, eventually moving to Ireland in 2006 and the pub is now run, with some enthusiasm, by Alan's brother Paul and his partner Amanda. Up to Date... All in all it is comforting to note just how little has changed in the Bag since Gordon Beresford's original speculative make over in January 1997. Faces behind the bar have changed, the place has been painted and the floor sanded. Regrettably, the Delaforce port and wonderfully smooth stilton are no longer on offer, but the quality and range of beer on the bar is as good now as ever. Drinkers at the Bag can count themselves fortunate that all of those who have had charge of the Bag over the years have remained more or less true to Gordon's original vision for it. Pity about the name change though! PS for those of you who notice these things – Yes, I am not afraid to boldly split infinitives. |