Story
A story of synchronicity, serendipity and sterling good fortune. Walk with us along our journey if you will, and linger for a moment to take in the truly intriguing tale of how a glorious craft beer of yesteryear was resurrected with the blessings of its original patron across the mists of time. It all begins with a man of true Australian pioneering spirit, James Walker, who crossed the Blu
e Mountains in the 1880s and took it upon himself to settle in the goldrush fields of the Central Western plains in New South Wales. A bridge-builder and gold-fossicker, an entrepreneurial soul, Coolgardie goldfever lured him to Australia’s west in 1892 and he returned a celebrated man. Now mayor of Bathurst town by 1893, a seminal idea lodged in James an inspiration - and he purchased his first brewery to serve the gentlemen of the goldfields world-class pale ales and hearty stouts with which to quench their thirsts and renew their spirits, vim and vigour. In 1895, to much herald and acclaim, Walkers and Co. Brewing in Bathurst’s Howick Street swung its gates wide open, and the carts rolled out across the district to every public house around. With hooves clattering and bottles rattling, anticipation was feverish in nearby country towns and villages, and the Walkers legend was begun.
“You hear about it everywhere” was the tip of every tongue, and they’d walk a country mile to get their ‘tashes wet with Walkers. On the goldfields, on the stations, in the fields and on the plains, the nectar of the west created a thirst at every thought. With further inspiration, James answered to the call, and in 1897 opened a second brewing establishment in the cool climes of Orange, New South Wales. Tapping into underground springs of purest mountain water and brewing with the cream of local barley crops, Walkers Orange Bathurst brewery swiftly was renowned.
“This Walker is a runner,” it was unanimously declared, and Walkers’ fine pale ales, bitters, stouts and lagers took a sweep at all the country shows. At great request and much behest the Walkers empire expanded at Australia’s federation, until every pint poured in western New South Wales was the famed and relished brew. The new century’s turn was celebrated with verve and gusto, Walkers beer had won the winning toss, and James Walker’s sandstone Vaucluse mansion became the beacon for the epoch’s Edwardian glitterati parties. The gentlemen and ladies of society flocked to our newly-minted Patron of the Arts, while countryside they raised a cheer to Walker’s beer for making imported unimportant. Passing on the regional empire to his stalwart eldest son, James Walker continued to pass the time with much amusement in the art nouveau surrounds of Parsley Bay. For an opportunity so great, the heir steamshipped forthwith to the States, and came back three years later with a treasure trove of brewing heritage with which to elevate the brand. Young Douglas cut a dashing figure, displaying all the vim and vigour, that Walkers had
embodied from the start. He brought motorcars and picnics to the country set, hosted summer garden parties that are still talked yet, and delivered lashings of the brew required to start the enthusiasm and enjoyment so necessary for the success of all affairs. Commended for his enterprise and energy in his most stupendous business, just when Douglas seemed could go no higher, he married into local Orange gentry and became the region’s most elevated squire. So famed was Walkers’ label, there came an offer on the table. Yet to much concern and desperation, James said “come back with a more serious consideration”, and to prove his point he pushed up the sales of Walkers by three times three. In a fit of inspiration and without a moment’s hesitation, he gave every barmaid across the state a pair of silk stockings to their glee. Yet now, gather near for you’re all about to hear, how our man James lost his family’s fortune and the beer. Warclouds left the farm fields laying empty, and the time of peace and plenty drew a sad and silent close. With Australia’s best and brightest never to return, and as far as we can discern, an ill-advised investment caused to come undone the favoured fortunes of James Walker and his son. The Great Depression swallowed up the rest of it, left the Walker empire destitute, and poor James Walker died a sad and solitary man. Let’s pause a moment here to honour him, our great explorer of the west. James Walker - bridge-builder, gold-fossicker, beer-brewer, empire-architect – we salute you. And this is where our story of synchronicity, serendipity and sterling good fortune regains, with another central western adventurer one century later. Let us introduce you now to Toney Fitzgerald esquire, sitting in a library quietly thumbing yellowed pages and old photos of Orange town. He comes across a picture of a brewery, with horse-drawn carts and men in bowler hats – “they brewed beer in New South Wales a hundred years ago?” he asks himself astounded. Not quite believing, this new explorer grabs his mates and gallops to the site at 80 Moulder Street, where Walker’s Brewing Co. They trace the outline of the cellar, find broken shards of glass, and view the front windows of the manager’s cottage from outside - still wearing their Walkers heritage with pride.
“Good heavens,” he proclaimed, “ I feel it is a sign. I’m bringing back this beer from yesteryear, I’ve got a feeling that it’s time.”
A national search commenced posthaste to discover Walker’s heirs, yet a fruitless search with naught unearthed, it seemed the path was stayed. Refusing to be dismayed, our Toney paid one last call. To the graveside of James Walker, to speak with him direct. Sitting at the edge of the great man’s tomb, a quiet and sombre day, it was explained at length with great respect, the plan to resurrect the Walkers brand across the land.
“I’ll bring your beer to life again,” pledged Toney to the open sky, “just show me how and not long from now, I’ll be back to share a toast.”
Perhaps the shadows lightened, and for sure the future brightened, for curiously the next day a message came. “I’m the great granddaughter of James Walker, we’ve heard you’re looking. Come meet with us, we think we have the treasure that you’re seeking.”
And this is how, we kid you not, the dusty notebooks with some original Walkers’ famous ales recipes and labels were handed to our fearless adventurer, in his quest to re-establish the brand. “Hang on, I’ve struck gold,” were his immediate lucid thoughts, and it was if old James himself had passed them on. With a reinvigorated purpose, and a blessing from on high, our 21st century adventurer took to heart his mission - “just get the beers back out” he thought he heard James sigh. And so, returning to its spiritual home in Bathurst, New South Wales, the Walkers Brewhouse and Bistro will swing its doors wide open for another chance at making history and the finest beers around. One hundred and twenty years since the first carts rolled out - with hooves clattering, bottles rattling and much acclaim - Walkers and its’ superior craft beers is finally back again. With the greatest of courtesies, and with deepest admiration, we invite you to join us on this serendipitous journey, and to walk with Walkers. INTELLECTUAL PROPERTY NOTICE
Walkers Brewing Co - is a reg Trade Mark 2013
Walkers Brewhouse & Bistro - is a reg Trade Mark 2013
Walkers Brewhouse & Restaurant - is a reg Trade Mark 2013
© Walkers Brewing and Toney Fitzgerald 2010, 2011, 2013, 2014
