There are a few beers whose names carry quite such a vivid, almost unsettling poetry as Riggwelter. Rooted in the dialect of the Yorkshire Dales, the word conjures not comfort, but vulnerability, an image of a sheep stranded on its back, legs flailing helplessly against the sky.
The term derives from Old Norse: rigg, meaning back or shoulder, and velte, to overturn. In local usage, a sheep that has rolled onto its back and cannot right itself is said to be 'rigged' or 'riggwelted.' It is a word shaped by landscape, by farming life, and by the quiet, often harsh realities of rural existence.
It is also, rather brilliantly, the name of one of Yorkshire’s most distinctive ales.
Brewing in the Shadow of Tradition
Brewed by Black Sheep Brewery in the market town of Masham, Riggwelter is a beer steeped in heritage. The brewery itself was founded by Paul Theakston, a figure whose name is synonymous with Yorkshire brewing tradition.
At the heart of Riggwelter’s character lies the Yorkshire Square fermentation system, a method as idiosyncratic as the beer’s name. These shallow, open fermenters allow yeast to rise and be recirculated, creating a fuller, more complex flavour profile than modern closed systems typically allow.
The result is not just beer, but something closer to a continuation of regional identity, a liquid expression of Yorkshire’s brewing past, carried forward into the present.
A Beer of Depth and Character
At 5.7% ABV, Riggwelter sits firmly in the territory of a strong Yorkshire ale, but its strength is not merely alcoholic, it is sensory, layered, and deliberate.
Tasting profile:
- Appearance: Deep chestnut, bordering on mahogany, with a modest but persistent head
- Aroma: Roast malt dominates, undercut by earthy Goldings hops and a curious, often debated hint of banana fruitiness
- Flavour: Rich and smoky at first, unfolding into notes of chocolate, coffee, and dark malt sweetness
- Mouthfeel: Full-bodied, rounded, and warming
- Finish: A reassuring bitterness carries through to a clean, dry close
There is something almost contradictory in the experience of drinking Riggwelter. It is both robust and refined, heavy yet balanced. The banana note, subtle, elusive, divides opinion, but adds an unexpected lift to the darker malt backbone.
Comparisons inevitably arise. Some detect echoes of Old Peculiar, that other stalwart of northern brewing, though Riggwelter often feels more assertive, more layered, and arguably more adventurous.
Masham: England’s Small Town with a Mighty Brewing Tradition
Tucked into the edge of the Yorkshire Dales, the market town of Masham is, at first glance, unassuming. Stone buildings, a quiet market square, and the slow rhythm of rural life suggest a place content with its past. Yet Masham holds a remarkable distinction: it is one of the smallest towns in England to support two internationally renowned breweries. In a place where sheep outnumber people, beer has become both identity and legacy.
Like all great brewing traditions, Masham’s begins with water. The nearby River Ure and the surrounding limestone landscape provide a clean, mineral-balanced supply, ideal for producing the rich, full-bodied ales associated with Yorkshire. This is not the soft, delicate water of southern pale ales, nor the heavily mineralised profile of Burton-upon-Trent. Instead, Masham’s water lends itself to depth: malt-forward beers with structure, warmth, and a certain grounded character.
The landscape shapes the beer, and the beer, in turn, reflects the landscape, steady, unpretentious, and quietly complex.
The Legacy of Theakston Brewery
Brewing in Masham is inseparable from the Theakston name. Established in 1827, Theakston Brewery has become one of the most respected traditional brewers in Britain.
Its most famous creation, Old Peculiar, is emblematic of Masham itself: dark, rich, and unmistakably distinctive. Brewed using time-honoured methods, including stone Yorkshire squares, Theakston’s beers embody a commitment to continuity in an industry often driven by change.
For generations, Theakston has defined what Yorkshire ale can be, robust, flavourful, and unapologetically traditional.
Rebellion and Renewal: Black Sheep Brewery
No story of Masham brewing is complete without its most famous rupture. In 1992, following a family split, Paul Theakston left the Theakston brewery and founded Black Sheep Brewery just down the road.
The symbolism was irresistible: tradition challenged from within, heritage reinterpreted rather than abandoned.
Black Sheep retained many classic Yorkshire techniques, most notably the square fermentation system, but brought a slightly sharper, more modern edge to its beers. Ales like Riggwelter exemplify this balance: rich and malty, yet layered with complexity and subtle innovation.
Where Theakston represents continuity, Black Sheep represents evolution.
Two Breweries, One Identity
What makes Masham unique is not simply that it has two great breweries, but that they coexist, competitors, certainly, but also co-creators of a shared identity.
Visitors to Masham can walk from one brewery to another in minutes, tasting the subtle differences between tradition and reinterpretation. In local pubs, both beers are often served side by side, not as rivals, but as complementary expressions of place.
This proximity fosters something rare: a brewing culture that is both deeply rooted and quietly dynamic.
A Living Tradition
Masham’s brewing heritage is not preserved behind glass. It is alive, in the copper vats, in the yeast strains passed down through generations, and in the pints poured daily across Yorkshire and beyond.
In an age of rapid change and globalised taste, Masham offers something different: continuity without stagnation, tradition without rigidity. Its beers do not chase trends; they endure because they are made well, and have been for a very long time. And perhaps that is the secret of Masham. Not scale, not spectacle, but consistency, craft, and a profound understanding of what makes a truly great pint.

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