Ant has been a good friend of mine for 20 odd years. We were introduced by a friend, in The Pineapple, and we have spent most of our friendship imbibing beer together in establishments of varied repute, ever since. Ant was a gentleman, great company, an eloquent, gregarious, conversationalist. We talked about anything and everything, no subject was off limits.
But the two subjects which were closest to our hearts were the Arts and our beloved Black Country. Yes! we were both YAM YAMS … Which translates as I AM, I AM and usually runs along the lines …”Yo am, I ay, yo can, I cor, yo bin , I bay”. But Ant’s real passion, was Bathams bitter!, a pint of hoppy beer loved by all who had the good fortune to sup it. It was Ant’s obsession! He was like the Ancient Mariner, stopping one in ten, he would never tire of singing the praises of the golden nectar.
Daniel Batham would regularly win trophies and national prizes for his beer but steadfastly refused to expand his business or sell his beer to other pubs. In fact, it wasn’t until the late 80’s that he acceded to allowing the toilets to be brought inside. The beer was brewed on the premises of The Vine public house in Quarry Bank, always pronounced Quarry Bonk! But no one ever called it The Vine, everyone referred to it as the Bull and Bladder (make up your own mind on that one).
High up along the eaves of the building were written the words “Blessing of your heart you brew good Ale – Shakespeare”.
A quote from the bard? Maybe, but we were inclined to believe it was more likely Percy Shakespeare, a famous Black Country landscape painter from up the road in Dudley. Percy’s main claim to fame was his demise. Allegedly, he was out painting somewhere on the Sussex coast during the second world war when a Messerschmidt pilot returning home from a bombing mission decided to use up his last round of ammunition on the execution of poor old Percy.
But it wasn’t all banter, high art and culture had its place at the table. When I first met Ant he was a writer of short stories. More recently he has written poetry, and it had become our practise to exchange pieces of work via email for critical comment. He was interested in my views on his poetry, though I was never a literary person. And I was interested in his views on my drawings and sculptures although he was never a practitioner of the visual arts. We enjoyed and respected each other’s work, and last year started discussing how we might somehow publish a book together. Alas never to be realized.
I shall miss Ant, his geniality, his warmth and his wit and I know that he would take pleasure in this celebration of his life. So whenever you raise your glasses to him … try to imagine you’re drinking a bostin pint of Bathams bitter!
John Garbutt