No kidding! I had a Ballantine Burton ale from 1931 a few years back, but that doesn't hold a candle to those!
Did you get to enjoy it's contents ?
Well, we got to sample the contents...enjoy may be a bit strong. There were about 8 of us tasting. We decanted it into a pitcher and spent about an hour sniffing the evolving aroma and taking notes. It was pretty spectacular. When we finally tasted it, it tasted a lot like watered down scotch. Interesting, but no one shouted "wotta great beer!" One of the tasters was a microbiologist and he tried valiantly to culture the yeast, but no luck.
Interesting, and that jibes with others' experience with the 1930's brewing of Ballantine Burton. If you see one of these and can get it cheap, grab it as a mantle-piece decoration or paperweight, but not for a taste revelation.
On the other hand, well handled samples of the 1946 brewing (bottled beginning in 1954 and from what I have been able to research, ending in 1966) believe it or not still can yield a remarkable sensory and tasting experience...loads of hop character and aroma, a hefty hint of the oak it was aged in, along with the expected sherry notes. Having acquired six
of these for my research, I can say that the first indicator of whether the contents are remotely drinkable lie in the amount of apparent evaporation of the volume in the bottle, and whether the beer drops bright in the bottle after a few months undisturbed (all were quite turbid when I received them).
Being a very strong, very highly hopped beer, the Burton still has something to offer for sensory analysis; it's brewing history, it's still alive to a degree, and definitely worth experiencing if you are lucky enough to obtain a well handled one.
That pricey Hindenburg Lowenbrau, on the other hand, goes into a museum case or on the aforementioned mantle. It is more relevant to aviation history.