I
"It was the last request of the
wife of one of our best pub
owners, she wanted to have
the horses lead her funeral
procession. You can't refuse
such a thing," says Wouter
de la Haye with a shrug.
NOVEMBER 2005
Once used in pre-medieval times to take Knights of the Round
Table into battle, Shire horses are now employed by Heineken
for their intelligence, disposition and above all for their graceful
strength
René is feeling restless. He paces up and down, the anxiousness in his eyes
visible. It's an overcast day near the old Heineken brewery (what is now
called the Heineken Experience), Rene's hair damp from the drizzle. When
we approach he comes closer and stands looking down on us, ever the
boss.
"He's a beauty," says Wouter de la Haye as he reaches out to greet
René, named after the Member of the Executive Board and Chief Financial
Officer of Heineken, René Hooft Graafland, while the other members of the
current and former Heineken Board—Guus, Karei, Thony, Jean-Franpois,
Henry, Charly, Gerard and Freddy—assemble. "But he's been in a bad mood
recently. He gets very impatient whenever we come back from a walk
because of all the construction out front. He wants to get home quickly."
At that moment René starts to eat a wad of hay, chewing it with his large
molars, snorting with satisfaction, kicking his hind hooves against the ground.
René is a Shire, a massive English variety of horse that is one of ten such
animals that reside in an urban stable on the premises of the former
Heineken brewery. While managers in power suits do deals in the corporate
offices next door, the stables below are almost hidden from view along the
side of the building, in the original section of the first brewery. "This is the
oldest part of Heineken," Wouter explains proudly as we come from the
outdoor corral to the stables. A youthful 53, Wouter has been around
horses all his life, coming to Heineken in 1977 and quickly rising to Lead
Coachman within a few years. "There's the original Heineken brewery
plaque that used to hang at the exit, we've moved it inside to protect it."
As we pass, the large black horses raise their white skirted legs, one of
the distinctive markings of Shires, kept looking impeccable with wood flour.
The stables, large stalls with a modern glass ceiling, are spacious, and the
equine smell is strong. One can see the large wooden drays, the carts the
Shires pull, waiting to be harnessed to the horses and brought into the city.
"We have three drays here. That one," Wouter explains, indicating a green
carriage with modern Heineken kegs on it, "is our English Beer dray, built
around 1900. Those kegs were the ones used in a James Bond movie." He
draws my attention to another standing in the front of the stable, "that's
our Show dray, a heavier one, say 4000 kilos. This one is the Daily which we
use most days. But this one," Wouter gazes with loving eyes (disregarding
his Harley Davidson parked nearby) "is our Mail dray, built around 1870.
We've done a lot of restoration on it, it's a real gem, worth probably
€60,000."
It is impressive; the yellow and black are striking, the polished brass and
steel are magnificent; you can see why it's the pride and joy of the stable
employees. And the enjoyment is not reserved exclusively for them: the
Mail Dray has given pleasure to eminent politicians. Name-dropping doesn't
overly impress Johan Rutgers, a coachman with the team for three years.
"I was the royal driver for the Queen's carriage," he tells me, "I have driven
the whole [House of Orange] family and lots of other dignitaries. I even
drove the Golden Coach," he says casually.
Thony Ruys, the outgoing Heineken CEO and Chairman of the Board,
took a final ride in the Mail dray last month, a trip that was emotional for
the executive. Running a hand against the perfectly worn leather, it's an
understandable reaction: the Mail dray breathes history and tradition,
craftsmanship and finesse. The dray has, of course, been used for
weddings, and once, even a funeral. "It was the last request of the wife of
one of our best pub owners, she wanted to have the horses lead her funeral
procession. You can't refuse such a thing," says Wouter with a shrug. We
move on to the harness room where we pick up some raincoats before we
go out.
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