The Origins of the Contemporary Wirtshaus

Medieval Inns and Taverns

The Wirtshaus is a Central European institution with deep roots in medieval times. During the early and high Middle Ages, inns with taverns sprung up along trade and pilgrimage routes, offering food and accommodation to weary travelers, along with stables to quarter their horses. The vast majority of these establishments were run by the nobility or the clergy, catering either to the aristocracy and officials of the nascent bureaucracy, or to merchants and pilgrims.[1]

By the sixteenth century a dense network of Wirtshäuser linked cities, towns, and villages with rural and Alpine regions, all recognizable by the signs that hung above the door. Wreaths, tree boughs, or shrubs marked the spot. These rudimentary symbols eventually gave way to more ornate signs that recalled the coats-of-arms of various noble houses, or, if the Wirtshaus was near a church, to religious imagery such as the crowns of the three kings. To this day, many breweries and Wirtshäuser bear names tied to these symbols—Löwenbräu, Drei Kronen, Bärenwirt, to name but a few.

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The Innkeeper and Wirtshaus on the Cusp of Modern Times

If the nobility, clergy, and city patricians retained a virtual monopoly on the right to own and run Wirtshäuser, by the seventeenth century city and town councils began granting rights to commercial innkeepers against the payment of a onetime fee and yearly interest. In exchange for these rights, innkeepers were bound by oath to maintain a variety of offerings at an acceptable level of quality, and to keep to certain opening hours.[2]

The innkeeper was also tasked with maintaining order at his Wirtshaus, a role which occasionally engendered tensions between his economic interests in hospitality and his obligation to keep his guests in line.[3] It’s precisely in this tension that we see the origins of the nineteenth- and early twentieth-century stereotype of the jovial but firm innkeeper. And here we see more clearly the etymology of the word Wirtshaus as “das Haus des Wirts,” a formulation that creates a clear personal connection between the Wirt and the Haus.[4] Indeed, to this day, Bavarians and Austrians say colloquially, “Ich geh’ zum Wirt.”[5]

Innkeepers sought to augment their income through the wine or grain trade, and often developed side businesses tied to their taverns such as butcher shops and bakeries, which they ran with the help of family members and servants. The combination of the inn with these other lines of income propelled innkeepers into the wealthier ranks of society, and many served on city or town councils or became officials.

Of course, the relative success depended as much on the innkeeper’s personality as it did on the location of his Wirtshaus. Unsurprisingly, the best locations were along trade and pilgrimage routes, in market towns and towns with regular fairs, or in the centers of villages near the church or central market square. The guests were, as a rule, men from all social classes and walks of life. Lodgers originally bunked down in dormitory halls, but single Gastzimmer began making an appearance in the eighteenth century.[6]

The Wirtshaus and Nineteenth-Century Urbanization

Even if inns with taverns have existed for ages, the Wirtshaus that has come down to us today has its origins in the early nineteenth century. Against the backdrop of rapid socio-economic transformations of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, the old-style Gasthaus separated into at least two main branches. Some Gasthäuser became hotels with their own restaurants catering to the upper classes and tourists. Many more shed their roles as hostels, focusing almost entirely on provisioning an increasingly local population with food and drink.[7] A small number continued along as before, with rooms for guests above their taverns.[8]

The Wirtshaus as Living Room

The Wirtshaus developed as a particular kind of leisure and entertainment venue within the context of nineteenth-century urbanization and industrialization. As the “living room” of the working classes, the Wirtshaus was the class-inflected counterpart to the more gentile coffeehouses of the inner city.[9]

Vienna is a case in point. Here, the Wirtshaus served several social functions. For recent arrivals to a rapidly growing Vienna, the Wirtshaus was a central location for finding postings about work or accommodation.[10] Most workers were “Bettgeher” who slept in shifts in workers’ dormitories. These workers had no living room at their disposal where they could spend what little free time they had, nor did they have their own kitchens. Wirtshäuser proliferated precisely in those worker quarters marked by miserable living conditions. In winter, the Wirtshäuser provided heated accommodation and a place to pass the time. All year long, the Wirtshaus provisioned workers with food and drink.[11]

That isn’t to say that the Wirtshäuser that cropped up in the working class areas didn’t also attract a varied clientele that included poets, composers, musicians, actors, and intellectuals of varying stripes. But even to this day, the urban Wirtshaus has maintained a grittier identity in comparison with the coffeehouses closer to the centers of financial and political power.

Tourism and Heimat: A Sense of Place, a Sense of Home

The rise of tourism in the nineteenth century also played a role in the development of the Wirtshaus. Not only did the Wirtshaus cater to locals (the Stammtisch being the most visible symbol), but it also sought to attract out-of-town visitors, either from nearby regions or from abroad.[12] This was particularly the case if a Wirtshaus was located in a town or village along a railway route.

Matters were slightly different in places like Franconian Switzerland, which to this day is only sparsely served by rail and bus connections. Here, walking remained a major mode of transportation until the arrival of the automobile. It’s one reason why the region is still blessed with a host of Brauereigaststätten and Brauereigasthöfe, those small, family-run breweries that preside over a tavern and a guesthouse offering bed & breakfast-style accommodations.[13] (Some run butcher shops and bakeries as well.)

Wirtshäuser proliferated in the latter half of the nineteenth century, designed with a strong dose of Gemütlichkeit at a time when people felt that their “Heimat” was being swept away by the forces of modernity.[14] The Gasthaus boom in the countryside and cities of Bavaria reflects historical conditions that were similar to Habsburg metropolises like Vienna.[15] “Modern time” became increasingly marked by the difference between “work time” and “free time,” and Gasthäuser responded to the need for places to spend that time, either in the Gasthaus around the corner or the one in the countryside reachable by tram or train.

Decline and Rebirth

The venerable old Wirtshaus came under threat from radical transformations in culinary culture in the decades immediately following the Second World War. Despite the fact that Wirtshäuser were still seen as a part of everyday life, patrons showed up less often than before. Innkeepers lacked funds for upkeep. Interiors started showing signs of wear, the regulars got older.[16]

The economic upswing of the 1950s had a profound impact on the Wirtshaus. Indeed, the fate of the Wirtshaus in the 1950s through 1970s dovetails with shifts in postwar consumption across western Europe. Instead of going to Wirtshäuser, families could get in their cars, go to the supermarket, and cook their own meals. The arrival of fast food didn’t help matters either. It’s no wonder that cultural critics began lamenting the phenomenon of “Wirtshaussterben” (the death of the Wirtshaus) in the 1970s.

This was no idle fear. Wirtshäuser and small breweries (Brauereigaststätten) that had been in the family for generations in rural Bavaria were finding it difficult to convince their offspring to stay in the village and run the family business.[17] The slow and steady decline of per capita beer consumption put paid to more than a few Wirtshäuser over the decades as well.

Wirtshäuser struggled to remain relevant against this backdrop of change, but in some cases their attempts to adapt to the times had a negative impact on the traditional “feeling” and atmosphere of the Wirtshaus. Wall paneling was mercilessly torn out and replaced with “modern” interiors. Wooden tables were replaced with synthetic surfaces that were easier to maintain. Cozy dim lighting was replaced with cold neon or fluorescent lighting. Wirtshäuser continued to decline in popularity. Many closed down, and banks and supermarkets moved into the abandoned spaces.

Prospects started looking up in the 1970s and 1980s, largely because people began to realize what they were in danger of losing. Just as the Slow Food movement of the 1980s and 1990s awakened a new generation to an understanding of tradition that resisted homogenizing trends in food, the Wirtshaus experienced a revival in parts of rural Bavaria and cities like Vienna.

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Where do things stand today? That’s an open question. Much, I’d argue, depends on you. If you’re traveling in Central Europe (or in Belgium with its beer cafes, or in the United Kingdom or Ireland with their pubs), seek out those places that have been in the family for generations, or that refuse to bend to the dictates of contemporary culinary culture. If you’re at a loss, check out a few of the articles under “Related Posts” below. Happy explorations, all you intrepid beer travelers!

Related Posts

Memories of Franconia, Mönchsambach Edition

Klosterbrauerei Weissenohe: Where Malty Beers Fit For Monks Meet Dry-Hopped Ales

A Few of My Favourite Things: Belgian Beer Cafes

A Pint of Prose and a Dram of Poetry in Edinburgh’s Old-Style Pubs

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Endnotes

[1] See Müller and Dubler, “Gasthäuer — Wirtshäuser,” HLS (Historisches Lexicon der Schweiz), 1, for much of what follows.

[2] See Müller and Dubler, “Gasthäuer — Wirtshäuser,” HLS, 3.

[3] Müller and Dubler, “Gasthäuer — Wirtshäuser,” HLS, 3.

[4] Wolfgang Kos and Ulrike Spring, “Typisch Wirtshaus: 10 Kennzeichen,”in Im Wirtshaus, 31.

[5] Correspondence with Thilo Wenisch, 29 April 2021.

[6] See Müller and Dubler, “Gasthäuer — Wirtshäuser,” HLS, 3.

[7] This underscores the shift from provisioning those traveling from afar to providing local villagers, townsfolk, and city dwellers with a “living room.” We can also state this as a kind of shift from hostel to locale.

[8] As in English, many of these establishments continue to call themselves guesthouses or inns, even if they don’t offer accommodation. It’s why we have the seeming proliferation of words like Gasthaus, Gasthof, and Gaststätte that fit under the overarching term “Wirtshaus.” Nowadays, breweries that bill themselves as a Brauereigasthof (or similar) typically offer accommodations above their taverns, especially in rural areas or along hiking routes, so it’s worth checking in advance if you’ve always dreamed of spending the night in a brewery.

[9] To this day in Vienna, Wirtshäuser are typically located in the formerly industrial outer districts, while the regal coffeehouses occupy the center of town.

[10] Werner Schwarz, “‘Trinkerland’ Neulerchenfeld: Vorstadtschenken zwischen Dorfkultur und Moderne,” in Im Wirtshaus, 90.

[11] Wolfgang Kos, “Mikrokosmos des Alltäglichen,” in Im Wirtshaus, 16.

[12] See Adam T. Rosenbaum, Bavarian Tourism and the Modern World, 1800–1950 (Cambridge, 2016).

[13] It’s also why beer hiking is still such a popular pastime in the region.

[14] Egon Johannes Greipl, “Eine Einführung in das historische Gasthaus,” in Gattinger (ed.), Genuss mit Geschichte: Einkehr in bayerischen Denkmälern — Gasthöfe, Wirtshäuser und Weinstuben.” pp.11-22.

[15] See, in particular, Schwarz, “‘Trinkerland’ Neulerchenfeld.”

[16] Wolfgang Kos, “Von der Krise zur Beislrenaissance: Alte Werte, neue Wirte,” in Im Wirtshaus, 138.

[17] Despite the Wirtshaus renaissance, this is still an ongoing concern, especially in more rural areas like Franconia or the Oberpfalz.

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