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The L ost D o ckl ands P ub Crawl
Introduction E
ven to the untrained eye, down amongst the Thames riverbanks at low tide, in Limehouse and Wapping, you’ll find relics of London’s past waiting to be discovered. The docklands and wharves of London’s East End have myriad stories to tell of centuries of conquests, revolutions and empire-building. Now home to the imposing structures of the finance sector and the spaceshiplike network of the Docklands Light Railway that both belie its chequered history of lowly waterborne commerce, shipbuilding, ropemakers and brewers, toe rags and factory workers. Now the area carries a distilled and tranquil air that would be in sharp relief to its turn of the century self when it would have been alive with thriving industry, manufacturing, and trade. This was London’s entry point for all kinds of imports from ivory to redwood, tobacco to fur and for everything and anything that the globe could offer. It is unsurprising then that to so many writers have been drawn to these banks to gather inspiration from the rich source material below. I would like to introduce you to, where I’d like to imagine those same writers might take their refreshment and plead with their muses; a wistful selection of pubs along the quayside. This rag tag bunch of public house misfits, some brand spanking new, some tumbling down type of places, all claim a chunk of the riverbank as their home. There are few who would question the importance of the venerable London boozer to the societies and cultures of London’s past and present. Not for us the indulgent sun filled boulevards of our European cousins brimming with alfresco dining and Gauloise smoking. Here, amongst the clatter and din of a London pub at full capacity, you can find a selection of real ales and larger than life characters to enjoy a mid-winter evening amongst when the long day is done. Indeed, the Thames never stops offering up its twisted and tormented bounty from the depths. To offer you proof, the typeface you are reading right now was 2
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Introduction
dragged, as recently as November 2014, from the banks of the Hammersmith riverbed, after nearly a century of slumber. The contentious Doves Type was expelled to the depths in 1916 by ex-William Morris disciple T.J. Cobden Sanderson in a fit of rage with his colleague Emery Walker. Now, after having lain dormant and undisturbed, it has been put back into use through the efforts of one man, Robert Green, whose loving restoration has given back the dumped 2,600lb of metal its original occupation. As a gift from the grey murk ready to weave its words on the page once more, I think it fitting to employ these recently salvaged characters to detail this unruly pilgrimage, in a suitably inebriated meander, through the winding streets of Limehouse and Wapping. Travelling up wind, against the easterly breeze, upstream and against the current feeling the icy cold of the Thames harsh spray on our cheeks. We pass mooring points, waterstairs and refurbished warehouses past the ghosts of dockworkers, brewers and ship builders. Travelling slowly but truly towards the hustle and bustle of the city and Tower Hill. We’ll be travelling, with the use of their eastings and northings, to these typically idiosyncratic pubs ranging from the new elegant builds and to the ones that are admirably (and unexplainably) still standing that have been frequented by London’s inhabitants for generations. So please pull up a pint and humour me as I offer up a befuddled telling of their ramshackle histories of smugglers, and ferryman, raconteurs and charlatans, trading silks, molasses, rum and numerous narcotics, all of which the East London can still offer up in droves and for what, I’m sure, people still come to East London to find.
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The L ost D o ckl ands P ub Crawl
The Grapes 51 °50’90”19n, -0 °03’38”99w
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ur first port of call is the renowned Grapes of Limehouse and what a place to start. This pub is lucky enough to have the distinguished actor Ian McKellen for a proprietor. A small tucked away type of place, that offers up in its meekness a place for weary travellers to grab a chair on the decking and enjoy the burgeoning tide come up to reach them through the timber slats. The Thames presence at high tide can, at times, brood menacingly close but it once brought punters through the door. The Grapes, now only accessible from its street entrance, used to be accessible from the river itself. During the 19th century you might have been lucky enough to spy some of East London’s most beloved depicters and storytellers Charles Dickens and Arthur Conan Doyle. In fact, it is alleged that Dickens, who visited multiple times, once danced on the table-tops of this pub. You can find the pub’s ‘dropsical appearance’ immortalised in the opening chapter of Our Mutual Friend. As you enter you encounter burgundy walls lined with archive prints of the pub throughout history. You’d be duty bound to help yourself to some Adnam’s Southwold bitter or Marsten’s Pedigree and be sure not 4
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The Grapes to miss Tolkien’s mark on this pub - that is Gandalf’s staff behind the bar. Sitting out on its small decking, you can take in the vista of the river and notice, waded out in the middle of the water, a little figure of a man looking solemnly over towards the Isle of Dogs. I am told he has been affectionately named ‘Rusty’ by staff. We sit under are under the watchful eyes of the two towers Sauron’s Canary Wharf and Saruman’s Shard. Here starring across the river at Rotherhithe and Bermondsey there is little of the stark and impressive architecture of Victoria Embankment but it is easy to imagine the anticipation of almost 500 years worth of capital bound visitors alighting for some Dutch courage along the way.
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The L ost D o ckl ands P ub Crawl
The Narrow 51 °50’97”17n, -0 °03’78”63w
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eading west and past Shoulder of Mutton Alley, we stay on Narrow Street to our next venue. But before we enter, look around at these maritime suburbs and canals that sit neatly at the edge of Limehouse. This street once saw the artist Francis Bacon take residency here. It has also been associated with other distinguished painters such as Edward Wolfe and Whistler seeking to find beauty in the docks and the working man. Along with artistic communities, the Limehouse area has seen many industries lay their foundations here. However, it was the Lime Oasts or Lymoasts that populated the area that gave the neighbourhood its name. Long before the smog of the industrial revolution filled with air with soot and tar, the yeasty scent of hops would have filled the nostrils of those passing by. Leaving the low beams well and truly behind, the Narrow boasts an airy conservatory flanked with streetlamps overlooking the bankside – perfect for enjoying a quayside drink. Owned by Gordon Ramsey, the Narrow is the newest of our venues and, as a restaurant and a bar, most well known for the food it serves. It has found its way into this pub crawl, despite its nonpub status, purely for its views. Sitting proud on the riverbank overlooking panoramic views, and holding up a Fuller’s London Pride to your lips, you can watch a reluctant sunset light up the wide expanse. Truly you start to feel the draw of the estuary make its mark even as far up as here.
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The Prospect of Whitby
The Prospect Of Whitby 51 °50’70”63n, -0 °05’11”02w
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e have wound our way here past the King Edward VII Memorial Park and the Shadwell Basin, now used mainly for sailing, canoeing and fishing but was originally intended to alleviate the pressure off the surrounding docklands when larger and more cumbersome ships started entering service during the mid 19th century. Here you will find a welcoming, cosy, yet commodious, low-beamed Taylor Walker pub with cobbled flagstone floors that snake towards the window seats and its generous beer garden, both of which have envious views of the river. We have entered into one of the claimants for the title of ‘Oldest Pub on the Thames’ (we will meet another contender for this crown along the course). This settlement has been associated with beer for over 700 years and the Prospect of Whitby has welcomed a rowdy mix of frequenters and less than salacious visitors along the way. Forgetting the clean edges of the Narrow, this pub bears its 7
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The L ost D o ckl ands P ub Crawl history proudly, with its pewter topped bar, old barrels and masts of old ships found all around. Staring out from the window seats, to one side you’ll notice an ornamental noose, which sits framing canary wharf and company. Leaving aside the leftist foreboding metaphor it presents of the of the financial sector’s stranglehold over present day visitors, the pirates, thieves and smugglers that drank here centuries ago were asked to fear an different foe. For the noose, to a 19th century visitor, would have warned off, not what lay eastwards, but what lay in wait west further up river: the descent into execution dock. Because investors in merchant shipping wouldn’t ony fear the challenge of pirates on the high seas, but even when your ship had safely been brought to port by a skilled captain, you couldn’t be too careful. For in the docks, among the throng of industry and din of ships, there were many chancers willing to bend the rules to make a living. Although there were those such as the mudlarks, scavengers (and the unenviable occupation of the toshers) who existed of the scraps and abided (mainly by the rule of law), there were those such as the water rats and criminals of Wapping who are reported to have robbed shipping in the Thames of £300,00 a year. But with the Tower just round the corner, the possibility of getting caught was certainly a bloodcurdling prospect.
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The Captain Kidd
T h e C a p ta i n Kidd 51 °50’33”69n, -0 °05’80”26w
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aving stumbled out onto Wapping’s streets, I’ll guide you through a few roads west to The Captain Kidd. Set between large estates of residential housing, the local Captain Kidd offers a comfortable beer garden and window seats to contemplate the river from. Although built in an old warehouse, this is a relatively new pub in contrast to our other venues. It has two floors and has dimensions that let in the light and allow you to take in the full aspect of the river from wherever you might wish to sit. This beautifully turned out pub would never be associated with the rascal that it is named after. You’d be forgiven for allowing this bright and airy venue to trick you into thinking you had left the ugly history of criminal execution to one side but alas no, for we are creeping ever closer to the tower. But before I begin, I suggest you bring yourself something fairly strong from the bar (a Sam Smith’s Old Brewery Bitter perhaps) in preparation for the story of Captain Kidd’s demise. As one of the most famous piratical malefactors of Wapping, the Scottish privateer was known for his exploit in ports all over the globe. After years of skulduggery, he was captured and brought to execution dock. The criminals that faced the noose at execution dock in front of crowds of onlookers did so knowing that their death was one of many. The process of hanging had even generated the payment of young toe rags to cling to the hangman’s legs and to end their suffering with speed. But pirates, of course, faced an even gloomier proposition. If they were caught, they were hung with a short noose. 9
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The L ost D o ckl ands P ub Crawl Rather than the long rope, which would break the neck if you were lucky, the short rope drop would slowly asphyxiate the criminal producing a gruesome marionette dance of death. This was the fate that Captain Kidd faced on the 23rd May 1701 at low tide when he finally met his maker. His body would have been left until three tides had washed over him to add to the disrespect and to act as a high profile warning to others.
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The Town of R amsgate
The Town of R a m s g at e 51 °50’33”55n, -0 °06’19”53w
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ow we sidle up to a small and very slim little pub and our second contender for the crown of ‘Oldest Pub on the Thames’. The first pub on this part of the riverbed in circa 1460 was called ‘The Hostel’. It took on a different moniker in the 16th century renaming itself ‘The Read Cow’, which is said to have been a delightful reference to the bar maid that worked there. The Town of Ramsgate now gets its name from the vessel, which used to dock there. This ship used to bring all manner of imports to London including dairy, grain and fish. The pub has now been decked out with lilies on the bar as you enter, which, I think it would be safe to assume,
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are a relatively new addition to proceedings. The Town of Ramsgate would have been visited over the years by gunpower factory workers, carpenters and rope makers, all of whom made their living in the area. The unfortunate theme of pirate execution continues as you peer over the small garden terrace and look towards the neighbouring Wapping Old Stairs. When the tide is low, you can see the post by which captured pirates were tied to and condemned to drown against. This pub, like The Captain Kidd, also has connections to the demise of another high profile public enemy. Judge Jeffries, James II’s Lord Chanceller was caught fleeing the glorious revolution in 1688 in this pub. He was disguised as a sailor and did his best to fit in amongst the anchor smiths and sail makers but with one covert look held for slightly too long, his cover was blown. But The Town of Ramsgate and Wapping Old Stairs have happier stories to tell of long travelling sailors reuniting with their wives and sweethearts after treacherous voyages. Indeed, this part of the river has personal significance for me, as this is where your humble tour guide encountered a bended knee and a small box. Our small story of happiness is now bound to those happy couples of years ago and if that doesn’t deserve a toast, I’m not sure what does.
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The Dickens Inn
The Dickens Inn 51 °50’67”63n, -0 °07’01”77w
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f we are still trusting our vestibular calculations by this point, whilst tottering dangerously close to canal sides, we shall swiftly make our way to The Dickens Inn to splice the mainbrace. This large building consists of three floors and two restaurants. Although it hasn’t always existed in this spot, the timber frame of the pub is still the same as when it was first constructed by Scottish civil engineer Thomas Telford in the 1820’s. It has seen significant cosmetic alteration since then and now sits on St Katherine’s Docks where the East truly meets the City. St Katherine’s Docks, which used to mainly consist of insanitary slums, has seen the ultimate transformation and is now home to large yachts of the affluent and the moneyed. It is unsurprising that this territory of the river’s wharves has been likened to Shelley’s Ozymendias and his boundless and bare antique kingdom. One cannot help but sense a tinge of regret as it stands in the shadow of its former mighty self. London’s dockland banksides have seen much change and destruction from The Great Fire to the Second World War bombing and then been witness to mass regeneration and given way to networks of wharves and tenements fit for all aspects of life. There are now many ways in which we can get our hands on imports from around the world, but there will never be a place quite like the docklands for showing us the twists and turns of London life. In the midst of huge revelatory changes, there are always small stories of individuals that linger among these docks just waiting to be told. Here we have reached the last of our ports. I’d like you to raise a glass of your choice to this city’s lost docklands and for libations old and libations still to come. 13
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