“The Silent Highway”—Watermen—Their fares—Margate hoys—A religious
hoy—The bridges over the Thames—The Pool—Water pageants—Necessity
for Docks, and their building—Tunnel at Gravesend—Steamboat on the
Thames—Canals.
THERE was, however, another highway, well called “the silent.” The
river Thames was then really used for traffic, and numerous boats plied
for hire from every “stair,” as the steps leading down to the river
were called. The watermen were licensed by their Company, and had not
yet left off wearing the coat and badge, now alas! obsolete—even
the so-called “Doggett’s coat and badge” being now commuted for a
money payment. These watermen were not overpaid, and had to work hard
for their living. By their code of honour they ought to take a fare
in strict rotation, as is done in our present cab ranks—but they
were rather a rough lot, and sometimes used to squabble for a fare.
Rowlandson gives us such a scene and places it at Wapping Old Stairs.
In 1803 they had, for their better regulation, to wear badges in their
hats, and, according to the _Times_ of July the 7th, the Lord Mayor
fined several the full penalty of 40s. for disobeying this order, “but
promised, if they brought him a certificate of wearing the badge, and
other good behaviour, for one month, he would remit the fine.”
Their fares were not exorbitant, and they were generally given a little
more—they could be hired, too, by the day, or half day, but this
was a matter of agreement, generally from 7s. to 10s. 6d. per diem;
and, in case of misbehaviour the number of his boat could be taken,
and punishment fell swiftly upon the offender. Taking London Bridge
as a centre, the longest journey _up_ the river was to Windsor, and
the fare was 14s. for the whole boat, or 2s. each person. _Down_ the
river Gravesend was the farthest, the fare for the whole boat being
6s. or 1s. each. These were afterwards increased to 21s. and 15s.
respectively. Just to cross the water was cheap enough—1d. below,
and 2d. above the bridge, for each person. It would seem, however, as
if some did not altogether abide by the legal fares, for “A Citizen”
rushed into print in the _Morning Post_, September 6, 1810, with the
following pitiful tale: “The other night, about nine o’clook, I took
a boat (_sculls_[42]) at Westminster Bridge to Vauxhall, and offered
the waterman, on landing, _two shillings_ (_four times his fare_) in
consideration of having three friends with me; he not only refused to
take my money, but, with the greatest insolence, insisted upon having
three shillings, to which extortion I was obliged to yield before he
would suffer us to leave the shore, and he was aided in his robbery, by
his fellows, who came mobbing round us.”
Gravesend was, as a rule, the “Ultima Thule” of the Cockney, although
Margate was sometimes reached; but Margate and Ramsgate, to say
nothing of Brighton, were considered too aristocratic for tradespeople
to frequent, although some did go to Margate. For these long and
venturesome voyages, boats called “Hoys” were used—one-masted boats,
sometimes with a boom to the mainsail, and sometimes without; rigged
very much like a cutter. They are said to have taken their name from
being hailed (“_Ahoy_”) to stop to take in passengers.
[Illustration: ONE OF THE MISERIES OF LONDON.
Entering upon any of the Bridges of London, or any of the passages
leading to the Thames, being assailed by a group of Watermen, holding
up their hands, and bawling out, “Sculls, Sculls! Oars, Oars!”]
People, evidently, thought a voyage on one of these “hoys” a desperate
undertaking; for we read in a little tract, of the fearsomeness of the
adventure. The gentleman who braves this voyage, is a clergyman, and
is bound for Ramsgate. “Many of us who went on board, had left our
dearer comforts behind us. ‘Ah!’ said I, ‘so must it be, my soul, when
the “Master comes and calleth for thee.” My tender wife! my tender
babes! my cordial friends!’.... Our vessel, though it set sail with a
fair wind, and gently fell down the river towards her destined port,
yet once, or twice, was nearly striking against other vessels in the
river.” And he winds up with, “About ten o’clock on Friday night we
were brought safely into the harbour of Margate.... How great are the
advantages of navigation! By the skill and care of three men and a
boy, a number of persons were in safety conveyed from one part, to
another, of the kingdom!”
Sydney Smith in an article (1808) in the _Edinburgh Review_ on
“Methodism” quotes a letter in the _Evangelical Magazine_. “A Religious
Hoy sets off every week for Margate. Religious passengers accommodated.
To the Editor. Sir,—It afforded me considerable pleasure to see upon
the Cover of your Magazine for the present month, an advertisement
announcing the establishment of a packet, to sail weekly between
London and Margate, during the season; which appears to have been set
on foot for the accommodation of religious characters; and in which
‘no profane conversation is to be allowed.’ ... Totally unconnected
with the concern, and, personally, a stranger to the worthy owner,
I take the liberty of recommending this vessel to the notice of my
fellow Christians; persuaded that they will think themselves bound to
patronize and encourage an undertaking that has the honour of our dear
Redeemer for its professed object.”
There were but three bridges over the Thames—London, Blackfriars,
and Westminster. London Bridge was doomed to come down. It was out
of repair, and shaky; a good many arches blocked up, and those which
were open had such a fall, as to be dangerous to shoot. Most of us can
remember Blackfriars Bridge, and a good many Old Westminster Bridge,
which was described in a London guidebook of 1802, as one of the most
beautiful in the world. The same book says, “The banks of the Thames,
contiguous to the bridges, and for a considerable extent, are lined
with manufactories and warehouses; such as iron founders, dyers, soap
and oil-makers, glass-makers, shot-makers, boat builders, &c. &c. To
explore these will repay curiosity: in a variety of them, that powerful
agent _steam_ performs the work, and steam engines are daily erecting
in others. They may be viewed by applying a day or two previous to the
resident proprietors, and a small fee will satisfy the man who shows
the works.”
The “Pool,” as that portion of the river Thames below London Bridge was
called, was a forest of masts. Docks were few, and most of the ships
had to anchor in the stream. Loading, and unloading, was performed in
a quiet, and leisurely manner, quite foreign to the rush, and hurry of
steam. Consequently, the ships lay longer at anchor, and, discharging
in mid stream, necessitated a fleet of lighters and barges, which
materially added to the crowded state of the river. Add to this the
numerous rowing boats employed, either for business, or pleasure, and
the river must have presented a far more animated appearance than it
does now, with its few mercantile, and pleasure, steamers, and its
steam tugs, and launches. Gay, too, were the water pageants, the City
Companies barges, for the Lord Mayor’s Show, the Swan Upping, the
Conservation of the Thames, and Civic junkettings generally; and then
there were the Government barges, both belonging to the Admiralty,
and Trinity House, as brave as gold and colour could make them; the
latter making its annual pilgrimage to visit the Trinity almshouses
at Deptford Strond—all the Brethren in uniform, with magnificent
bouquets, and each thoughtfully provided with a huge bag of fancy cakes
and biscuits, which they gave away to the rising generation. I can well
remember being honoured with a cake, and a kindly pat on the head, from
the great Duke of Wellington.
The pressure of the shipping was so great, extending as it did, in
unbroken sequence, from London Bridge to Greenwich, that more dock
accommodation was needed: the small ones, such as Hermitage and
Shadwell Docks, being far too small to relieve the congested state of
the river. In 1799 several plans were put forward for new Docks, and
some were actually put in progress. The Bill for the West India Docks
was passed in 1799. The first stone was laid on the 12th of July, 1800,
and the docks were partly opened in the summer of 1802. The first
stone of the London Docks was laid on the 26th of June, 1802, and the
docks opened on the 30th of January, 1805; and, on the 4th of March of
the same year, the foundation of the East India Docks was laid, and
they were opened in 1806.
Early in 1801, a shaft was sunk at Gravesend, to tunnel under the
Thames, which, although it ultimately came to nothing, showed the
nascent power of civil engineering—then just budding—which has in
later times borne such fruit as to make it the marvel of the century,
in the great works undertaken and accomplished. Even in 1801, there was
a steamboat on the Thames (_Annual Register_, July 1st): “An experiment
took place on the river Thames, for the purpose of working a barge,
or any other heavy craft, against tide, by means of a steam engine on
a very simple construction. The moment the engine was set to work the
barge was brought about, answering her helm quickly, and she made way
against a strong current, at the rate of two miles and a half an hour.”
Commerce was developing, and the roads, with the heavy and cumbrous
waggons, were insufficient for the growing trade. Railways, of course,
were not yet, so their precursors, and present rivals, the canals,
were made, in order to afford a cheap, and expeditious, means of
intercommunication. In July, 1800, the Grand Junction Canal was opened
from the Thames at Brentford, to Fenny Stratford in Buckinghamshire. A
year afterwards, on the 10th of July, 1801, the Paddington Canal was
opened for trade, with a grand aquatic procession, and some idea may
be formed of the capital employed on these undertakings, when we find
that even in January, 1804, the Grand Junction Canal had a paid-up
capital of £1,350,000, and this, too, with land selling at a cheaper
proportional rate than now.
[Illustration]