Showing posts with label 19th Century. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 19th Century. Show all posts

Thursday, March 1, 2018

Presentation: The Last Days of Rotherhithe Shipbuilding: The Clipper Ships

The clipper Coonatto in Port Adelaide.  Built by Bilbe and Perry
at Nelson Dock, Rotherhithe, in 1863
Source: Trove PRG 1373-2-6
Many thanks to the Rotherhithe and Bermondsey History Society (http://www.rbhistory.org.uk/) for a very warm welcome on one of the coldest days I can remember.  It was great to meet old friends, chat to some lovely people that I have only talked to on email before, and of course great say hello to a lot of new people.  I can only apologize for the late start - nothing to do with the weather, but because I was at the wrong venue!  My sincere thanks to Robert who was also at Time and Talents rather than Surrey Quays shopping centre, for doing such a good job of navigating us from one place to the other in double quick time.

If anyone who missed the talk last night would like to see the PowerPoint, or if anyone at the presentation would like a second shot at it, it is available for download for the next few weeks at:  http://teaclippers.wordpress.com.  I have saved it both as a PDF and as a PowerPoint presentation (for the latter you will need PowerPoint installed, or you can download the PowerPoint Viewer - the link for that is on the above page).


Wednesday, October 4, 2017

A great night at the Docklands History Group

Enormous thanks to the Docklands History Group (www.docklandshistorygroup.org.uk) for inviting me to speak tonight at the Museum of London Docklands. My subject was the last days of clipper ships and the end of shipbuilding on the Thames.

What a wonderful set of people! I was very nervous about being an amateur on the subject amongst people with serious expertise in this field, but they were so nice and welcoming and I had a really good time. As I have a real fear of public speaking, which has been hard to conquer, the fact that I enjoyed myself is really saying something. Super, super people. 

If you are interested in the history of the maritime London, you might be interested in this group, which meets on the first Wednesday of every month, with each lecture lasting approximately an hour. You might also want to check out group member Peter Stone's new book "The History of the Port of London: A Vast Emporium of All Nations."



Monday, May 29, 2017

Photographs of the Lavender Pump house from the Enthusiastic Gardener blog

A lovely collection of photographs on the Enthusiastic Gardener blog showing Lavender Pump house and its surroundings at their summer best.  Great to see it all looking so great, but a shame that the woodwork is still being allowed to decay so badly. 
https://enthusiasticgardener.com/2017/05/29/lavender-pond-nature-reserve/





If you're interested in the history of the Lavender Lock, Dock and Pumphouse, the following post, which I wrote some time ago, may be of interest: http://russiadock.blogspot.co.uk/2014/06/lavender-dock-lock-and-pumphouse.html.  I've also written about Lavender Wharf and Lavender Dock here: http://russiadock.blogspot.co.uk/2015/03/lavender-dock-and-lavender-wharf-1684.html.




 

Saturday, June 25, 2016

Stuart Rankin's Rotherhithe shipbuilding books are available online for the first time

After many years, Stuart Rankin has now managed to secure the copyright on the booklets that he wrote many years ago about shipbuilding and shipyards in Rotherhithe, at a time when the fringes of Rotherhithe were laced with shipbuilding and shipbreaking yards.  Even better, he has made them available online for download.

Stuart's work is the result of years of trawling through archives for original documentation in order to track the history of individual people, ships, buildings and properties, and as a result his research boasts a high level of accuracy.  At the same time, the booklets are very digestible, with many maps and illustrations, and together they provide a brilliant background to Rotherhithe's complex past.

Every one of my own shipping and history posts starts with Stuart Rankin's booklets, and without them I would never have got started.  It is great news that they are now available to everyone.  

Shipbuilding in Rotherhithe – Bull Head Dock to the Pageants – Parts 1 and 2, The Nelson Dockyard, Greenland Dock and Barnard’s Wharf [ebooks]. £5.55 for all four booklets (a bargain).  A payment of 5p per order is made to Help The Heroes.
Here's the link:
http://www.britishtransporttreasures.com/product/shipbuilding-in-rotherhithe-bull-head-dock-to-the-pageants-part-i-to-part-4-ebooks



Thursday, April 28, 2016

Thomas Bilbe's "Coonatto," built at Nelson Dock, Rotherhithe, 1863

Coonatto by Thomas Goldsworth Sutton
National Maritime Museum PY8564

Coonatto was a three-masted  clipper commissioned from the partnership of Thomas Bilbe and William Perry in 1863 by Anderson, Thompson and Co. (later Anderson, Anderson and Co.) for the Orient Line for the transport on their London to Adelaide route of cargo, mainly wool, and passengers.

The relationship between Thomas Bilbe and Anderson, Thomson and Co. began when Bilbe built a ship named Celestial for James Thomson, using a patented system of wooden hull framing.  The ship was a great success and led to the contracts with Anderson, Thompson and Co., the founders of the Orient Line, for the London to Adelaide (Australia) route.  Other ships built by Bilbe for the Orient Line included Orient, Borealis, Yatala, and Argonaut (click on the links to see my previous posts about these ships).  The Orient Line.  A lovely description of the Orient Line ships survives from an 1898 article by John Arthur Barry:

As a good instance of how the sailing lines changed into steam, there existed in the sixties a fine fleet of small clippers trading to Adelaide for wool. The largest of them all was the Orient, of some 1200 tons or so. Then came the Murray, Goolwa, Yatala, Coonatto, Derra, etc., fast, fine-lined, London-built vessels of from 800 to 1000 tons, speedy but wet. Indeed, it was said of them that they took a dive on leaving the Channel, came up at the Cape for breath, and did not reappear until Kangaroo Island was in sight. This was perhaps an exaggeration, but their skippers drove them for all they were worth, and carried their main-top-gallant sails when other vessels had their upper topsails off; also imagined the world was coming to an end, or that Australia had disappeared, if they couldn't find Cape Borda in anything under eighty days. 

Coonatto in Adelaide.  From the Trove website, PRG 1373/2/6
at trove.nla.gov.au
The Orient Line became the Peninsula and Orient Steam Navigation Company, which eventually became re-branded as the very familiar P+O.  By the time that Coonatto was built, Bilbe had moved on to a new and innovative method of hull construction: composites.  He  patented and trialled composite ship construction with the clipper  Red Riding Hood in 1857, and all ships after this one built by Thomas Bilbe were composites.  Composite ships were built with a mixture of wood and iron.  The iron frame and ribs reinforced the hull and meant that the structure could be more open, providing additional room for cargo. 

Coonatto was the first ship that Bilbe built for the Orient Line.  She was a composite clipper, a method of construction that Coonatto was 160ft 2in long with a 29ft beam.  Coonatto's entry in the 1874-75 Lloyds register provides basic information about the ship's build but also mentions an interesting addition to the ship's equipment when, in 1874, she was provided with felt and ‘yellow metal’ cladding.   The Citizan website says that traces of the cladding still remains attached to some of the exposed timber.  It sounds as though this was similar to the copper hull cladding that protected ships against the effects of wood-consuming species and improved the speed of ships through the water.  A similar modification can be seen on the restored tea clipper Cutty Sark in Greenwich, which has had the so-called Muntz alloy fastened to the entire hull. 

Orient Line passages, March 1870
She was known as a fast ship, described by Basil Lubbock as "an out and out clipper with very fine lines."   Lubbock says that she was "very wet," which means that she took a lot of water on board when under sail, but he thought that this might be due "to the hard-driving of her skipper, Begg, a Highlander, who never spared her and made some very smart passages out and home."  Coonatto's fastest times were 66 days to the Semaphore Lightship and a 70-day run, even after losing both her helmsman and the wheel overboard after broaching-to (falling foul of the wind) off St Paul's Island!

Clippers were mainly cargo carriers, although the Orient Line also carried passengers.  The clippers on the Australian run were transporting a mixture of products to London, but primarily wool in exchange for a variety of British products.  Basil Lubbock describes the shipping trade from Adelaide, which was the focus of only two or three firms, as follows:  "During the sixties and seventies, when Sydney and Melbourne were filling their harbours with the finest ships in the British Mercantile Marine, Adelaide, in a smaller way, was carrying on an ever increasing trade of her own, in which some very smart little clippers were making very good money and putting up sailing records which could well bear comparison with those made by the more powerful clippers sailing to Hobson's Bay and Port Jackson."  He goes on a little later:  "Their captains, however, were always keen in rivalry and put a high value on their reputations as desperate sail carriers.  They made little of weather that would have scared men who commanded shops of three times that tonnage of the little Adelaide clippers, and they were not afraid of a little water on deck."

The Trove website has a rather wonderful advert for Orient Line passenger places on clipper ships heading to various destinations in March 1870.  Coonatto was one of the ships heading for Adelaide under the command of Captain J.N. Smart.  Two other ships listed on the advert, Orient and Yatala, were also built by Bilbe for the Orient Line (see my post about her here).   White Eagle, another ship on the list, was also owned for a time by Bilbe and his business partner William Perry, which was actually built in Aberdeen in 1855.

The South Australian Advertiser 8th October 1870. Shipping News (with thanks to the Trove website) provides this rather nice description of Coonatto leaving Australia for London:
COONATTO, for London via Port Augusta.
"The Orient liner Coonatto has once more taken departure from the port by towing over the bars on Thursday evening. It was Captain Smart's intention to have immediately sailed for Port Augusta, where she is to complete her wool landing;  but during the night there was little or no wind; therefore the ship remained at anchor awaiting a favorable change. . . . The Coonatto weighed anchor in the roads on Friday afternoon, and presented a very handsome appearance as she beat away on a sea breeze. Towards nightfall the wind hauled more off the land and enabled her to lay a course clear of Troubridge."

The remains of Coonatto today
Copyright MOLA (Museum of London Archaeology)
In 1876, carrying a cargo of copper, copper ore and wool to England from Australia, she became beached in the English Channel at Crowlink, near Beachy Head, and could not be re-floated.  At the age of 13 she was wrecked.  The wreck is thought to remain at the foot of the white cliffs.   The Citizan website provides a good description of the find: 
Situated in the Seven Sisters and Birling Gap park lies the wreck of what is believed to be the Coonatto, a London registered bark-rigged clipper (a type of three-masted ship) that sources suggest ran aground in 1876. The wreck lies on the very edge of the intertidal zone, below the cliffs at Crowlink. The keel and starboard side of the ship are still clearly visible where they came to rest. The remains include large and small timbers, some still clad in a zinc alloy, whilst the total length of the wreck is roughly 43m bow to stern.  The site is subject to the erosive forces of the waves and tides. Interestingly records describe the salvaged cargo being craned onto Crowlink Cliffs but given the present location of the cliffs and the type of cargo to be craned this suggests considerable erosion since the wrecking. The CITiZAN team hope that more research will establish the extent of the cliff that has disappeared and further understanding of the vessel.  To date we have worked with partners and volunteers in the National Trust and Eastbourne Heritage Services as well as training the first 15 CITiZAN volunteers in England to work on this site. A plan of the site has now been produced with future focus on more detailed drawings of the diagnostic elements of the ship that survive as well as an attempt to generate a 3D model of the site to provide those who cannot make the journey to the site with the chance to learn more about this fascinating wreck.

There is apparently a painting in the Seaford Museum in East Sussex that is thought to show Coonatto foundering at Crowlink, but I have been unable to find an image of it.

John Arthur Barry, writing in 1898, watched the demise of sail in favour of steam:

In the great mail steamers of that same Orient line that now lie alongside Circular Quay you may at any moment see the evolution of canvas to steam in its widest and most complete and final aspect.  Other fleets, as the White Star one, for instance, have not quite yet arrived at the termination of the process, and still own a few sailers out of the fine array of once famous Aberdeen liners—-the Damascus, Patriarch, Thermopylae, and others, such as the Centurion, Abergeldie, Maid of Judah, Windsor Castle, Nineveh, etc., whose names, as well as those of the Duthie's and Thompson's, are indissolubly bound up with the early maritime history of the colony. Now and again, perhaps, in one of the harbor bays, you may see a shapely old craft whose aspect seems in some way friendly and familiar, only that she flies a foreign flag, and has a foreign name upon the stern. Dirty, weather-beaten, forlorn as she is, with rusty rigging and paintless spars, nothing can disguise the old ocean aristocrat who a score of years ago was the pride of her captain, the crack clipper of her fleet and whose comings and goings were matters of moment, both on this side of the world and the other one.

The 6ft (1.83m) figurehead from
Coonatto now in the Jervis Bay
Maritime Museum
(Photo from the Jervis Bay
Maritime Museum website)
As far as I know, Thomas Bilbe did not make the transition to constructing steam ships, which seems odd as he was certainly an accomplished engineer. He certainly didn't do so in Rotherhithe.  It would be interesting to know what he did next, because he was clearly a very colourful character and it would be good to know more about him.  If you have any details about his life, please do get in touch.



Sources for this post:

John Arthur Barry  1898. How the Wool Went Home Long Ago. Australian Town and Country Journal, Sydney, NSW.  Saturday, December 17, 1898
http://gutenberg.net.au/ebooks13/1301811h.html 

Basil Lubbock 1975. The Colonial Clippers. Brown, Son and Ferguson Ltd.

Charles F. Morris 1980. Origins Orient and Oriana. Teredo Books

Stuart Rankin 1996. Shipbuilding in Rotherhithe - The Nelson Dock.


Websites:

Jervis Bay Maritime Museum
http://jervisbaymaritimemuseum.blogspot.com/2014/03/figurehead-on-show.html
http://jervisbaymaritimemuseum.blogspot.co.uk/2016/01/wreck-of-caonatto.html

The Citizan.org website:
http://www.citizan.org.uk/resources/key-zones/south-east/wreck-coonatto-crowlink-birling-gap/


The MOLA Facebook page
https://www.facebook.com/MOLArchaeology


The 1875 Albion Dry Dock at the former Decathlon site


I have updated this post since I first wrote it on 9th April 2016, with information provided most generously by the Museum of London Archaeology's Magnus Copps, who came to the site on the 27th April 2016 to explain the site, its past and its future.  He provided some excellent new information about the brick work, the use of concrete and the structure that sat over the dry dock from at least 1914.  Thanks too to Kate Mensforth for organizing the sessions.

The dry dock shown to the left has become quite a local celebrity in the last month, but for those who are new to this topic, a warehouse-type structure that was formerly a Decathlon sports store was taken down as part of plans for a new development that will sit along the edges of the former Canada Dock (now Canada Water) and the former Albion Dock (now Albion Channel).  During the work to establish foundations an old dry dock was rediscovered, and is really well preserved.  Thanks to the developers for the new viewing platform outside the entrance to the remaining Decathlon.  Climb up a short flight of stairs and you have a perfect view of the site, with the remains of the late 19th Century dry dock clearly visible at the far side of the site.  It is really quite huge!  Wonderful to have the opportunity to see something so splendid emerging so unexpectedly from the ground, and in relatively good condition.

Click on any of the photographs to see a bigger version.

The parallel development of the two dock systems.
Davies map 1843
The dry dock is essentially part of the story of the amalgamation of two dock companies, the Grand Surrey Canal and Docks Company and the Surrey Commercial Dock Company.  The first commercial dock to be built in London was the Howland Great Wet Dock, which was begun in 1699 and opened in 1700.  Greenland Dock sits over the area that was once occupied by the much smaller Howland Great Wet Dock.  The dock passed through different owners until it was eventually purchased in 1807 by the specially-formed Surrey Commercial Dock Company, and new docks and timber ponds were built in a line to the west, each flowing into the next.  At the same time, the Grand Surrey Canal Canal company had been formed in 1801 to build a canal that eventually reached Croydon and Peckham.  It opened in 1804 but was by no means the commercial success that its investors had hoped for, and the success of the nearby docks encouraged the Grand Surrey Canal Company to ask for permission to start building docks.  This being granted in 1811 the company and immediately started using the canal infrastructure to create a dock system of its  own which, running east to west, was more or less parallel to that of the Surrey Commercial Dock Company, with whom they were now in serious competition.  Accordingly, the Grand Surrey Canal Company eventually changed its name to become the Grand Surrey Canal and Docks Company.  Price wars followed, undermining both companies, and the decision was taken to amalgamate them into one large company, which became the Surrey Commercial Dock Company in 1864.  The situation at this time is reflected in the 1868 Ordnance Survey Map.  [This history is the short and simple version, but you can read more about the full and rather complicated story on my previous posts, which I have listed at the bottom of this one.]

The old cut from Main Dock (renamed Albion
Dock) into the old Albion Pond.
Godfrey Ordnance Survey Map of 1868

Click to expand.
Following the amalgamation of the two companies, various decisions needed to be made about the future of the docks.  One of the first things to change was the name of individual docks and timber ponds, with Main Dock being renamed Albion Dock.  Links were made between the formerly separate dock systems, with new cuts and locks between the two, but more ambitious plans were being rolled out.  The dry dock is not shown on the 1868 map, but it is on the 1894 map, and this is because it appeared as the result of major engineering works to expand the dock system.  The second even more considerable difference between the two maps was the addition of Canada Dock, connected to the older Albion Dock of 1860.  The course of Albion Dock is today marked by Albion Channel, the small canal that links Surrey Water (formerly Surrey Basin) and Canada Water.  In 1875 Canada Dock was created, a vast, strangely shaped and ambitious piece of engineering that carried the dock over the area now covered by the shopping centre and car park, established specifically to handle the vast new iron vessels and their high-volume cargoes.  It became the biggest dock in the system at this time.  This area had been in use as timber ponds.   

As shown on the map to the left, a cut connected Main Dock and Albion Pond.  A bridge passed over the cut, but there are no archaeological traces remaining of that bridge to show what it looked like, and there are no known photographs of it surviving.  

The dry dock showing the new Canada Dock
together with the place where the old cut was,
replaced by the dry dock, in red, and the
new cut between Albion Dock and Canada
Dock in green.
In the new scheme, Canada Dock replaced Albion Pond and most of Canada Pond, but Quebec Pond and Centre Pond were retained to its east.  Canada Dock had to be connected to Albion Dock, just as Main Dock had been connected to Albion Pond, in order to link it into the rest of the network.  

The original cut from Main Dock into Albion Pond shown in the red circle on the map above was far too small to be suitable for the new, larger ships that Canada Dock was built to handle.  So the old cut  was closed at its southern end and converted into the dry dock that we see on the Decathlon site, making excellent use of the former link between Main Dock and Albion Pond.   This is shown on the map to the right in red.  A new entrance, much wider and longer, was established to its west to link Albion Dock and Canada Dock, and is also clearly visible on the 1894 map, marked in green on the map to the right

So we know that the dry dock dates to roughly 1875, which is why it is not on the 1868 map but is so clearly shown on the 1894 and 1914 maps as a dock in the bottom edge of Albion Dock.   It was around 4.5m deep.  I would guess  that it was used for repairing barges and lighters that were essential to the loading and unloading of cargo from the ships that used the docks.  Full automation never took over in the Surrey Commercial Docks, and in spite of large cranes along many of the wharves barges and lighters were part of the permanent dockland landscape of Rotherhithe, an essential but often battered component of cargo handling. The dry dock probably remained in use until quite late in the history of the docks prior to their closure in 1970.  It was still above ground during the construction of Canada Water tube station, which took its name from the surviving square corner of Canada Dock, and was captured in a photograph in 1996 (see the photo at the end of this post).  The dock must have been filled in and buried shortly after that.

Given that the Albion Dock dry dock has been buried for around 20 years (or more probably because of it), it is in remarkably good state of preservation.  The photos on this page show that it was made of at least two types of brick.  The pale beige stock brick along the sides belongs to the original cut between Main Dock and Albion Pond.  When it was converted to a dry dock black engineering brick was added at the lock end, a type of brick that was in common use around the docks in the late 1800s and early 1900s.  The black engineering brick was often used on corner pieces of docks and locks, and particular properties that made it valuable for this purpose.  Where the modern rectangular block of grey cement now stands were a pair of lock gates.  At the opposite end cement was used to block and reinforce the former cut to create a dry dock.  Cement was a new material at this time, and most uses of it had been somewhat experimental up until around 1870.  At the dry dock it was poured into an armature of wooden planks (a technique called "shuttering") until it was set, leaving unmistakeable marks of the planking along the sides of the concrete, clearly visible in one of the photographs below.  Given that it has survived for over 140 years, this early use at Albion dry dock can be said to be a firm success!  On the 1914 Ordnance Survey map an additional black line surrounds the dock, and this shows the outline of an open-sided structure that was built over the top of the dry dock.  A photograph of it (or a newer version of it) survives from 1975. 

The dock has been professionally surveyed and recorded by the Museum of London Archaeology (MOLA), who have a watching brief to monitor the site.  

As to the future, we were told different things at the 6pm and 6.30pm talks by the representatives of the development.  At the 6pm talk the woman told us that the dry dock will be preserved in the basement of the new development, but although it will not be visible it is possible that guided tours will be available.  At the 6.30pm talk a man, this time, said that it would be sealed beneath concrete and would not be available to visit.  So who knows?  I daresay we'll find out after the building has been built.  At least MOLA has been given access to survey it.

The photographs below were taken during April 2016.
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And from the London Docklands blog, here's this wonderful photograph from 1996, showing the water-filled dry dock at far left, roughly half way down the photo in the green area during the construction of the Canada Water tube station.







With thanks, as usual, to Stuart Rankin's booklets about the history of the area, and to Magnus Copps from the Museum of London Archaeology for coming to talk to local residents about the site on 27th May 2016.

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To find out more see some of my earlier posts:

The development of the Surrey Commercial Dock system 1609 - 1909
http://russiadock.blogspot.com/2014/01/the-development-of-surrey-commercial.html
.
A history of the Commercial Dock Company: A history of Norway Dock and the timber ponds 1811 - 2014
http://russiadock.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-commercial-dock-company-history-of.html
.
The development of Albion Dock and the timber ponds of the Grand Surrey Dock and Canal Company
http://russiadock.blogspot.com/2014/02/the-development-of-docks-of-grand.html
.

The establishment of Canada Dock by the Surrey Commercial Dock Company in 1875
http://russiadock.blogspot.com/2014/03/the-establishment-of-canada-dock-by.html



Wednesday, January 20, 2016

The Prince of Orange public house, Lower Road, Rotherhithe

The Prince of Orange in 2016
Located at the corner of 118 Lower Road and Orange Place (SE16 2UH), immediately opposite Hoath Place, is an attractive building of yellow stock and red brick that was once a pub, and has since been converted into apartments.

The pub was named for the heir to the Dutch throne, William, the Prince of Orange (6 December 1792 – 17 March 1849) who became King William II of the Netherlands in 1840.  Prior to inheriting the throne he had been a key player in the Napoleonic Wars, serving with the British Army from 1811 and becoming Aide de Camp to the Pince Regent in 1812, before being promoted to Major General in 1813, then to Lieutenant Colonel and then General.  He fought at the Battle of Waterloo on 18th June 1815, where he was wounded   He was affectionately known by the Duke of Wellington's staff as "Slender Billy."   Although it doesn't have much to do with this story, a nice little factoid is that the Prince of Orange once travelled by train from London Bridge to Greenwich through Bermondsey, on the viaduct designed by Colonel George Landmann, shortly before the London and Greenwich Railway opened in 1836. 

The Prince of Orange pub was opened in 1859 as a beer house, and the building is clearly Victorian.  Stuart Rankin (Walk C) says that Orange Place appears in Parish Registers in 1810, so it looks as though the pub might have been named for the street rather than the more usual practice of naming a road after a pub.  The same thing happened with Trinity Church in Rotherhithe's Downtown, where the church was named after Trinity Street, on which it was built in the mid 1800s.  The prince, however, was only 17 in 1810, so the matter remains unclear.  The pub gained its full licensed status in 1874.  Orange Place was marked on the 1868 Ordnance Survey map, and terminated where it met Southwark Park. Immediately to the east of the pub was a short, narrow road which is not provided with a name on the 1868 map, but was probably built at the same time as the pub for deliveries.  The road opposite, now Hoath Place, was Portland Place at that time, and both were flanked by terraced housing, as was Lower Road.  By 1894 the service road for the pub had been replaced by a narrow building on the other side of which a church was established (I haven't figured out which one but it is now no longer there), Portland Place was now Hothfield Place, and tram rails had been laid along Lower Road, with a tram service passing in front of the pub. 

Its landlord for some of the 1920s was Albert Matthew Mimms who remained until he died in 1933.  A photograph of the funeral taken by the funeral director shows the cortège outside the pub (see photograph to the left). 

The Prince of Orange in the 70s or early 80s
The photograph at the end of the post shows it as it was, probably in the 1970s (there's a Leyland Princess on the forecourt, which were produced from 1975-1981, and were not the most durable of vehicles!).  It was well known in the mid 1970s and 80s for being a popular live jazz venue, and amongst those who played there were (the links go to external sites) a teenage Jools Holland, the band Loose Tubes, who had their first gig at the Prince of Orange in 1984 (and whose 30th anniversary at Ronnie Scott's), Andy Graham, Chris Barber's Jazz and Blues Band, The Big Beer Band, and the short-lived but endearingly named Whip the Minister.  For reasons unknown, perhaps a change in musical preferences amongst the surrounding population, it ceased to be popular and although it revived briefly as a gay venue in the 90s, it eventually closed.

Fortunately, it was converted into apartments, in the late 1990s, its name changed to Prince of Orange Court, and the conversion was very sympathetic to the exterior architecture, which was restored, retains the Prince of Orange title that was built into it, and looks terrific.  The second floor was extended at the rear of the building to provide additional residential space, and this too was done very sympathetically, completely in keeping with the architecture of the reset of the building.

The Big Beer Band, playing at the pub before its
closure in the 90s.  Photograph from The Big Beer Band website

One of the apartment conversions


Friday, January 15, 2016

HMS Edinburgh - built by Samuel and Daniel Brent, Rotherhithe, 1811

A view of the Commercial Docks in 1813 by William Daniell, two years after Edinburgh was built. 
A ship enters the lock and to the left and right of the lock you can see Greenland South and North shipyards,
both with ships in dock (click to expand).

In the 1800s Rotherhithe produced some superb ships (as well as one or two lemons), mainly sail-powered wooden warships as well as a smaller number of tea clippers and paddle steamers.  Some of the ships that began their lives as wooden ships were later converted to steam, either paddle or screw, and this was the destiny of HMS Edinburgh, which was built in 1811 by Samuel and Daniel Brent  in Rotherhithe.  The Brents had a long and successful history of boat building in Rotherhithe for two generations, their names first linked with that of two generations of Randalls, but on the suicide of John Randall, Samuel and Daniel Brent took over the business variously as S+D Brent and Brent and Co. Messers Brent. Finally, when Samuel died, Daniel Brent carried on alone.  Samuel and Daniel Brent operated out of operated out of Greenland Dock North and South shipyards in Rotherhithe between 1805 and 1819.  They had also operated out of Nelson Dock but gave this up in 1810.   

HMS Asia, another Vengeur-class warship, which
gives a good idea of how Edinburgh will have looked
at the time of her launch (image sourced from Wikipedia)
HMS Edinburgh was ordered in 1807 and was launched on 26th January 1811. It is not recorded which of the two Greenland Dock yards she was built at, Greenland North or South, both flanking Greenland Dock's lock entrance as shown in the William Daniell painting above.  The painting also shows the Commercial Docks and, beyond, the Grand Surrey Canal with a very busy Thames beyond it, and St Paul's visible in the far distance.  Also launched in 1811 by the Brent brothers was the East Indiaman Marquis of Huntley, so both North and South docks were clearly occupied simultaneously during the construction of the two ships, a profitable situation at a time when traditional ship building was in decline.  Edinburgh herself earned the Brents £57,000 (£1,935,720 in today's currency according to the National Archives Currency Converter).  She then had to be fitted out elsewhere with masts, rigging, guns and other fittings at the cost of £26,032 (£884,046). 

HMS Edinburgh was a third rate Vengeur-class ship of the line, 1772 tons, 176ft long, 47ft 6in beam and 21st deep with a wooden hull, 74 guns and a ship's company of 600.  There were more Vengeur-class ships built during this period than any other class of warship (around 40 of them), and most of them were built in private rather than naval shipyards.  New warship designs were usually built to the design of an individual surveyor, but the Vengeur-class (also occasionally referred to as the Hogue-class) were designed by committee.  This is thanks to the Admiralty which, faced with two competing designs for a 3rd rate ship of the line, decided not to opt for either but to direct all its naval surveyors to come up with a new 3rd rate design between them. They decided that the Surveyors of the Navy "should consider together, and prepare a draught which will embrace the qualities pointed out by their Lordships letter as so desirable to be attained and at the same time keep down the increased expense" (quoted in Lavery). The result became colloquially known as the Surveyors' class.  Unfortunately for the Admiralty's requirement for keeping down expenses, the need to send them to private yards for construction made them rather more expensive than the Admiralty had planned for.  In spite of the number produced, they soon became somewhat unpopular.  One report describes Edinburgh, for example in the following terms:  "steers bad, wears very slow, but stays quick."  As Lavery says, the design was not a disaster but certainly failed to meet up to the expectations of the Admiralty as well as the captains who were given command of the Surveyors' class ships.

Throughout her career Edinburgh was commanded by a number of different captains.  Under her first command she went to the Mediterranean between 1811 and 12, was in the Gulf of Spezia in 1813 and then Anzi in the same year, and was laid up in Portsmouth a year after.  It is unclear where she was sent in the following two decades, but in 1833 she was again in the Mediterranean. 
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Scheduled for conversion to steam, she was described by The Times, again in less than flattering terms:
Edinburgh, 72.  This old ship, which is being prepared to going into the hands of Mr White, of Cowes, to be fitted with a screw propeller, as a block ship or floating battery, is nearly ready.  She is fit for no other purpose, although she has had a good deal of service, being remarkable as a very dull sailer."

Hogue, after she was converted to a Blenheim-class
screw steamer.  Edinburgh will have looked very similar.
(Image sourced from Wikipedia)
In 1846, already 41 years old, she went to Portsmouth naval base for conversion to a Blenheim-class steam ship with modern screw propellers (as opposed to paddles, which had been the usual form of propulsion for earlier steam warships (see, for example, the warship Karteria, also built by the Brent brothers).  The conversion, which reduced her guns to 60, was completed in 1852.  The cost of the conversion was an eye-watering £65,000.00 (£2,866,500 today).

In her new guise, she went back into service as a steam guard-ship, together with Blenheim, Hogue and Ajax, which were also old Vengeur-class sailing ships that were converted for this new role. This was a new concept in the navy.  All four were reduced to one deck, and fitted with a 450hp engine capable of up to 8.9 knots, as well as light rigging for an alternative source of power.  These ships are often described as floating batteries. The initial intention was to use them for coastal defence but they saw action in foreign seas as well.

"The Baltic Fleet Leaving Spithead," showing Edinburgh
at far left.  Illustrated London News (Supplement)
for March 18th 1854.
All four of the original guard-ships saw action in the Baltic Campaign of 1854 and 1855 during the Crimean War, and are immortalized in the famous Illustrated London News illustration "The Baltic Fleet Leaving Spithead" published on March 18th 1854.  Two other Rotherhithe-built ships also served in the Crimean War - Jackdaw and Hind, both screw steamers, which were commissioned from John Jenkins Thomson specially for the war.  Edinburgh was part of the 1853 fleet review prior to departure for the Baltic, the first time that screw steamers had been included in a fleet review, and she was present at the 1856 fleet review at Spithead on her return to England.

She was a guard-ship at Sheerness later in 1856 and was with the Coast Guard in 1858. 

Edinburgh
was broken up by Castle and Beech at Charlton on the Thames in 1866, at the venerable age of 55.


Main sources:

Lavery, Brian (2003) The Ship of the Line - Volume 1: The development of the battlefleet 1650-1850. Conway Maritime Press.
Winfield, Rif (2008) British Warships in the Age of Sail. 1793 - 1817. Seaforth Publishing
Rankin, Stuart (1997). Shipbuilding in Rotherhithe - Greenland Dock and Barnard's Wharf. Rotherhithe Local History Paper No.3
Peter Davis http://www.pdavis.nl/ShowShip.php?id=62





Tuesday, January 5, 2016

Ropewalks in Rotherhithe and Bermondsey in the 1800s.

1811 Map showing the
Rotherhithe rope walk
I have always been fascinated by rope walks so it's surprising that it has taken me so long to sit down and write something about the ones I noticed a long time ago on Rotherhithe and Bermondsey maps of the 19th Century.  There were several of them in Rotherhithe and Bermondsey.  Rope making was an essential part of British naval and commercial ship building activities between the 15th and 19th Centuries.  Ropes were also essential to maritime commerce, particularly for the great full-rigged tea clippers.  The standard length for a naval rope, for example, was 1000ft.  Even when steam was very first introduced for sea-going vessels, most ships still retained masts and sails to enable them to save on fuel when there was sufficient wind to travel under sail. The bigger the ship, the more rope was required for rigging. Warships and tea clippers were major consumers of rope.  The longer the rope required, the longer the rope-making premises (ropewalk) required.
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Every time I see a particularly long and very straight piece of road set back from the river in a former shipbuilding area I suspect it of having  been a former rope walk.  These were the Roman roads of the maritime world.

Rope walks were long alleys where rope was manufactured, and they could be open or sheltered. The materials used to make the rope had to be laid the full length of the walk, so whatever the desired length of the finished rope, that was the the length that the ropewalk had to be. There were various rope walks in the area.  If you look at the Cutty Sark next time you're in Greenwich you will see not just how many ropes she has, but how long many of them needed to be.  She was re-rigged in 2012 and the company that were responsible, TS Rigging and Heritage Marine, provided the following statistics:
The Cutty Sark’s rigging extended 11 miles long, her original sail area was 32,000 sq. ft. (2,976 sq.m.), and her main mast stood at 152ft (47m). Fair trade winds gave her the famous parametric of over 17 knots which would have been achieved with most of her 32 sails set. So famous for her speed at sea, it was deemed she would under-go a full restoration and be granted full public access as part of the Maritime Museum Greenwich, London.  Jim and a team of young tall ships crew and engineers immersed themselves in the huge task of stripping down and re-rigging the Cutty Sark. Andy Hodder-Smith, the project manager on the job orchestrated work undertaken on 2.5 km of wire standing rigging, 14km rope for running rigging, 400 wooden blocks, 700 shackles, 41 spars, 9 mast sections, 17 yards, including one as spare for the Cutty Sark.

Chatham ropewalk
Photography by Clem Rutter. CC-BY-2.5
Fortunately we don't have to use our imaginations to know how the rope walks looked and worked because a small number of rope walks have been thankfully preserved, and some are even still operational, with a particularly good Victorian example dating to 1790 forming part of the museum at the Historic Dockyard at Chatham (see http://www.thedockyard.co.uk/plan/plan-your-day/victorian-ropery/). It is 1135ft long and when it was built it was the longest in Europe. The basic procedure begins with converting hemp, sisal, coir, manila or manila-hemp, and a range of other natural fibres, into something that can be turned into rope.  First it is "hatchelled" or combed into manageable strands, and then it is converted into yarn by spinning it. Next, the spun strands of yarn are are fed through a plate with holes in it, a "register plate" and compressed through a "die."  Finally the rope is "closed" as follows.  Attached to a moving a moving trolley, and laid along the ropewalk the prepared strands are organized into pairs into pairs of three, separated by a pine-cone shaped wooden block with ridges in it, a bobbin.  They are kept off the ground by being laid over hurdles all along the ropewalk and are fastened to hooks at the other end of the walk.  The hooks are either hand or machine operated and turn the pairs to form twisted stands and as  the length of the rope shortens due to the strands being combined, the trolley moves along.  These pairs are in turn combined by the same technique to form a single length of rope. When the rope has been formed it is coiled, either manually or by machine, ready for transportation. Have a look at the You Tube video Making Rope - Medieval to Edwardian technique to see a manually operated ropewalk in operation, describing and demonstrating parts of the process in detail.  Two other videos are shown in Sources at the end of the post.

The same Rotherhithe
ropewalk in 1868
(click to enlarge)
The longest ropewalk in Rotherhithe was at Downtown, set back from Rotherhithe Street, where it ran behind the terraced houses alongside Acorn Yard.  I have picked it out in pink on the 1811 map at the top of the post, where it is marked as "Rope Walk" and on the 1868 Ordnance Survey (Godfrey Edition) map to the left, where it is marked as "Ropery,"  it is easy to see how long it was on the 1868 map - each of the little rectangles bordering it was a terraced house and its yard.  It extended all the way from the rear of the Trinity Church churchyard to beyond Nelson Dockyard to its north.  The Downtown rope walk is shown on maps dating to 1811 and 1868, but it had been removed by 1914.

Another two ropewalks can be seen on the borders of Rotherhithe and Bermondsey, where two ropewalks marked  as "Patent Rope Manufactory" are shown on the 1872 Ordnance Survey map of Bermondsey.  They are shown on the 1843 Davies map where it is clear that there are several ropewalks but unclear how many there area (see the maps at the end of the post).  Comparing the 1843 and 1872 maps, it is possible that some of the other radiating streets in that cluster were ropewalks in a previous life due to their length and uncompromising straightness and the fact that, like the Rope Manufactorys, they run towards the Thames and terminate in wet and dry docks.  Another possibility, of course, is that one or more were always terraced streets, their trajectory confined by the presence of the ropewalks. 

Between them, the Rotherhithe and Bermondsey ropewalks were feeding the never-ending demand for rope for Naval and commercial ships in one of the busiest ship-building and repairing stretches along the Thames. 

Prisoners picking oakum for caulking at the
Coldbath Fields Prison in Clerkenwell
The rope walk in Rotherhithe had been removed by 1914, and seems to have been converted to a walkway along the side of Acorn Pond, connecting the Upper Acorn Yard with the vast Acorn Yard running along Lady Dock to the south.  Similarly, the Bermondsey ropewalks had been converted into roads and housing by 1914.  The ropewalk on the 1872 map to the west became a Peabody Building and the one marked to the east was built over with more terraced housing and yards. If the 1843 map is anything go to by, earlier ropewalks had already become streets by 1872.  This makes a lot of sense because although the docks were in full swing, this was now the age of steam, the last big sailing ship to be built on Rotherhithe, Lothair, having been launched in 1870, a year after the launch of the comparable Cutty Sark in Blackwall.  Today the area has been transformed so much that it is impossible to see exactly where this intriguing fan of roads was located, but it is clear that Bevington Street and Farncombe Streets are survivors of this cluster of Bermondsey ropewalks.   

After the ship building industry collapsed along the Thames, and the ropewalks had closed, ship breaking continued to be profitable and even when rope was old and spent and was removed from ships being broken up (or from ships being repaired and their old ropes being replaced by new ropes) old rope still had a value.  Rope that had deteriorated to the point where it could no longer be used as rope was sold to prisons and workhouses where it was dismantled into its original fibres and reconstituted into a new material. This product was known as "oakum," which was tarred and used as "caulking," to seal the gaps in joints of ships' planking, both in the hull and on deck, to make them watertight. The payment for the redundant rope gave rise to the phrase "money for old rope."

The ropewalks are commemorated in a modern Rotherhithe street name:  "Ropemaker Road," although it is sadly nowhere near to where the old ropewalk actually ran.



The orange sections are ropewalks marked on the 1872 Ordnance Survey
map of Bermondsey. Those in blue were possibly ropewalks from
a previous period turned into terraced housing by this time

(click to enlarge)


Principal sources:





Monday, January 4, 2016

The steam corvette Karteria, built in Rotherhithe,1826, for the Greek War of Independence



Karteria under steam, her sails furled,
with the sailing ship Hellas in the background
Karteria was a bit special.  Not that any of the other ships built in Rotherhithe weren't special, but Karteria was innovative in the same way as Rising Star, another truly remarkable ship built in Rotherhithe in the same tradition and by the same ship builder, Daniel Brent (see my earlier post about Rising Star).  A very worthy descendent of Rising Star, she was technologically more advanced, a fine product of the Industrial Revolution.  She has a remarkable story, which includes a surprising famous name. 

Karteria, meaning "perseverance" in Greek, was built in Rotherhithe's Greenland Dock South shipyard by Daniel Brent.  Daniel Brent's business was the outcome of a long and honourable series of ship building partnerships that began with John Randall and his son, also John.  Randall and Brent had shipyards at both Nelson Dock and on one side of the lock at Greenland Dock, called Greenland Dock South.  When John Randall junior committed suicide in 1802 during a labour dispute, the partnership between the Randalls and Brents was dissolved and by 1810 the Brents had given up Nelson Dock and operated out of Greenland Dock North and South shipyards between 1805 and 1819 as Messrs Brent.  By 1820 Daniel Brent was operating on his own at the two Greenland Dock shipyards and held the lease until 1824, after which the shipyards were empty during, and perhaps because of, industrial action resulting in a full-scale strike in April 1825.  Brent resumed the leases on both yards between August and December of 1825. As the build of Karteria took place in 1825, it may be that the lease was resumed on the empty yards mainly to complete this contract, as well as perhaps one other - the paddle steamer Duke of Sussex, also built by Brent in 1825.  The yards passed into other hands after this date.

Captain Frank A. Hastings
Karteria was commissioned in 1825 on a privateer basis by Captain Frank A. Hastings who had served at Trafalgar when only 11 years old and was now working for the provisional Greek government, preparing for what turned out out to be the Greek War of Independence against Turkey 1828.   With the end of the Napoleonic wars (1803-1815) some naval officers became the equivalent of mercenaries, selling their skills to countries who still had conflicts for which their strategic skills were invaluable but Hastings was a special case.  He had been forced out of the Navy due to an incident with a fellow officer, and as a great Greek enthusiast was very keen to become involved in the fight for independence.  The Greek situation found a lot of sympathy in England at this time due to its Classical history, a romantic ideal that hoped to encourage a resurgence of Greek Classicism by freeing it from the Ottoman Empire. Accordingly, Karteria was funded largely by the London Philhellenic Committee, established in the UK to raise funds for the Greek War of Independence.  Lord Byron was one of its early members, became its chairman, invested £4000.00 of his own money in the refitting of the Greek Navy and eventually took up arms against the Ottomans in Greece, where he died.   Captain Hastings also invested his own money into the ship, financing the guns.  It had been his vision to replace an ailing Greek sail navy with a new fleet of ships that ran under both steam and sail.  In 1825 he was appointed commander-in-chief of the Greek revolutionary navy.

Plan of Karteria
On a smaller scale, it is also an interesting period in Rotherhithe's ship building history.  Most of the ships being built at this time were traditional sailing ships, naval and commercial, some of them on a grand scale, and they were still being built into the 1860s when the tea clipper Lothair, the last big sailing ship to be built in Rotherhithe was launched, in 1870.  However, at the same time there was a small number of Rotherhithe builders who were embracing the new steam technology, and a number of steam-powered paddle steamers were built here from the early 1800s.   As well as Rising Star, Daniel Brent was responsible for an earlier remarkable steamship, The London Engineer

Interestingly, the British Royal Navy was very suspicious of steam power, using steam ships mainly as tug boats to shift their sailing ships around, and some of the earliest experiments with steam ships in naval action were privately commissioned for foreign wars.  Although Rising Star has been built for the war between Chile and Spain, she arrived in Chile too late to be put into service, so Karteria was the world's first steamship to see naval combat.

As a warship Karteria was a product of a number of aspects of modern innovation.  Her extreme manoeuvrability came from having two engines, on the port and starboard sides, each connected to a paddle.  One of the innovations in Brent's build was a deck to ceiling bulkhead, which Captain Hastings describes in his 1828 Memoirs, where he demonstrates he true love of the ship that he and Brent came up with:
The ‘Karteria’ was built with her timbers close and caulked together, and would therefore, have floated without planking. I had several opportunities of remarking the advantage of building thus, to resist shot; nothing less than a eighteen pounder ever came through us; this, ’tis true, might be partly attributed to Turkish bad powder, but those shot that did come through, always made a nice clean round hole without a splinter. However, against shells it would have a disadvantage, as they would be more likely to stick in it. Perhaps if shells became generally used, it will be proper to make the upper works of a ship as slight as is consistent with strength, and iron ribs might perhaps be good. The ‘Karteria’ had another peculiarity in her build – two solid bulkheads enclosing the engine room, and caulked and lined, so as to be water tight, the intention of this was, in the event of one part of the ship being leaky from any cause whatever, the water could not flow into another part of the ship. This arrangement, which is due to the ingenuity of Mr Brent, the builder, once saved this ship from fire, which broke out with great force in the after-part of the engine room, and would have communicated to the shell room very quickly. But for this bulkhead, which kept the fire forward, and gave us time to subdue it. I see no reason why all men of war should not be furnished with similar partitions. The same builder saved another ship ('the Rising Star') from sinking, by this contrivance.

Karteria and her figure-head on a
Greek stamp from 1983
Her vital statistics are: Displacement 233 tons; Length 38.4m (126ft0 in); Beam 7.6m (24ft11 in); and speed 7 knots (under steam from two 42-horsepower engines).  She was armed with four 68-pounder carronades and four 68-pounder cannons.  

She is often referred to as a steam corvette, indicating that she could sail under steam or sail, but this term usually refers to steam ships with screw propellers.  Karteria was powered by steam but she was a paddle steamer, with two paddles and was also equipped with four masts so that she could travel under sail and was rigged as a schooner.  As steam required fuel in the form of coal, and it took a long time for sufficient coal storage depots to be established around the coast, it was practical to provide steamships with sail so that they could save fuel when there was sufficient wind to power the ship.  The sails were also very useful when, en route to Greece from London in 1826, a fire put the engines out of commission and she was able to proceed under sail.  Her crew was 185 strong, including 17 Officers, 22 Petty officers, 32 Gunners, 110 Seamen and 4 Cooks and Servants.  She also had an American doctor on board, Samuel Gridley Howe, who kept a journal and provided some useful insights into life on board.

A model of Karteria, by G. Vammenos, at the
Hellenic Maritime Museum, Piraeus.  It clearly shows
her layout with twin paddles, four masts, steam
funnel and a disconcertingly traditional-looking
hull. (Photo from the Captain Frank website)
She was completed in May 1826, departed shortly afterwards, and arrived in Nafplion in September 1826.  She was soon engaged in both land and sea engagements and, commanded by Hastings, Karteria became a Greek legend.  She was equipped with four 68 pound guns, which was a small number compared to the conventional naval ships, which had upward of 20 guns as standard.  She therefore needed a number of other advantages in her favour.  These were manoeuvrability, two sources of power and the hot shot that she fired on the wooden sailing ships.  The Ottoman navy was well equipped with large vessels but the Greek navy was composed primarily of small ships and Hastings believed that the answer lay in having more powerful ammunition than the enemy.  Remarkably, Karteria had an on-board furnace, which was used to heat shot to the point where it had a lethal incendiary impact on the unprotected wooden hulls of enemy ships.  This made all the difference and most celebrated success was a raid on the port of Itea in the Gulf of Corinth on the 29th and 30th September 1827, where she was responsible for sinking nine Ottoman Navy ships.  Although Karteria, and three sister ships that followed her, were successful, they all suffered from engine difficulties.

In spite of ongoing engine trouble, the success of both the Karteria and her sister ships, together with the new type of ammunition, eventually led to sailing ships being abandoned by the Royal Navy, and to the adoption of armour on ships to prevent precisely the type of destruction that Karteria's flaming shot had rained down on her enemies.

Hastings himself was wounded in an attack at Aetoliko on the 25th May 1828 and died from his injuries on the 1st June 1828, after which he was given a state funeral with full military honours and was hailed as a national hero.

Karteria was taken out of service in 1831.



Main Sources:

As usual, this post is more interested in the Rotherhithe side of things than, for example, the bigger picture of the Greek War of Independence, but there are plenty of books and websites on that subject, as well as the sources used for this post, which are as follows:

  • Maurice Abney-Hastings. Commander of the Karteria. Author-House 2011
  • Lawrence Sondhaus. Naval Warfare 1815-1914. Routledge 2001 
  • Stuart Rankin.  Walk B:  Shipyards, Granaries and Wharves. Southwark Council 2004
  • Website: A history of military equipment of Modern Greece (1821 - today).  (1826-1840) Paddle Steamer Karteria. http://greek-war-equipment.blogspot.co.uk/2011/02/1826-1840-paddle-steamer-karteria.html
  • Website:  Commander of the Karteria.  Karteria:  The first steam warship in war (1826) http://www.captainfrank.co.uk/article/karteria-the-first-steam-warship-in-war-1826