Hertford Union Canal
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Although Sir George Duckett was widely regarded as being someone of unimpeachable integrity he was not cut out for business. Perhaps his trustworthiness helped attract deposits to a bank in which he was a partner but unfortunately, when rumours began circulating (evidently fuelled by comment in a magazine called the Satirist) that the enterprise was unsound, a disastrous run began. Bankruptcy soon followed so Sir George had to sell most of his possessions including the Cut and the Stort Navigation to pay off the creditors. Both canals would survive but even under new management Duckett’s Cut, despite the favourable opinion of Mr Simpson, proved a commercial failure and by the end of the 1840s it was virtually derelict. However, in the 1850s it was acquired by the Regents Canal Company and from then on its fortunes revived. The grooves of work around the Top lock show that in the end the Cut was a worthwhile project. The lock itself has a fall of over 6 feet and stonework on the abutment has been well worn not only by tow ropes, but also by generations of passing bargees and boaters pushing the balance beams to open the lock gates. Like the original bridges cast iron was used to manufacture these beams (1), which were known as levers when first installed. As a type they are now quite rare.
It is now a short walk to the Middle lock and this is probably the quietist part of the Cut. The water in the adjacent pound may sometimes seem mirror-like and at present relatively few walkers, joggers or cyclists use the towpath, certainly when compared with, say, the Regents Canal towpath near Broadway Market.
One problem in maintaining the towpath here has been the destructive pressure of tree roots. A reinforced concrete wall runs towards the lock, unattractive for the most part but, where steel mesh has been placed in front of it, faces peer through fabric (2). The faces look rather tortured but then so would yours if you spent night and day worrying what would happen if a wall behind you gave way.
Close to the Middle lock is an entrance to an area once occupied by the Growing Concerns Garden Centre. The enterprise made substantial efforts to improve the look of the canal with towpath-side plantings which added colour in spring and summer and interest all the year round. A pity it closed.
The towpath descends quite steeply by the side of the Middle lock, which has a fall of almost nine feet, and then turns sharply under Wick Lane bridge so take good care on the blind corner. You are now approaching Hackney Wick and compared with the section through which you have just walked the next part of the canal might seem more hazardous, especially during rush hour, when, partly as a result of being designated as part of the National Cycle Network, the towpath is used by many commuting cyclists. The confluence of the ordinary towpath and that designated to be part of the National Cycle Network is at the bottom of the ramp which leads to Wick Lane.
Close by the bottom of the ramp you might see recycled water feeding into the Cut. This has been used to cool the high voltage electricity cables that run under the towpath. When the Cut was originally opened water was also recycled but in that case to counter the water loss that was an inevitable consequence of the conventional locking system. A ‘Thirty five Horses Power’ steam engine was employed for pumping the water, which was returned to the upper level via a culvert which emptied into the top pound. I am not quite sure just where the engine house was but it must have been as fine a sight as the bridges though, especially when new. It was built of brick with a cast iron roof that was sheathed in sheet copper that would have glinted in the sun. Unless, of course, the sun was obscured by smoke from the fire box.
Close to the top of the ramp a plaque (3) is affixed to a wall on one side. This commemorates an infamous murder, evidently the first ever committed on the British railway network. At that time the pub which occupied the adjacent site was called The Mitford Castle.
A bridge carrying the North London Railway once ran over the Cut here. Sometime after 10pm on July 9th 1864 an engine driver stopped his locomotive close by the canal after he spotted a suspicious object lying between the tracks. On investigation the train’s stoker and guard found a man who was both severely injured and unconscious. After the alarm was raised the man, who turned out to be a senior bank employee called Briggs, was carried to the Mitford Castle but his injuries, which it appears were caused by an attack and having been thrown from the train, were so grave that he died within a day or so. It quickly became apparent that Briggs had been the victim of a robbery and subsequent detective work soon pointed the finger at a Franz Muller who had departed for the United States by sailing ship on July 15th. Had the only way to pursue the suspect been on another sailing ship it is possible Muller would never have been intercepted but such was the speed and efficiency of transatlantic steamers that on arriving in New York he was met by two London police officers who had been there for many days. A watch belonging to Mr Briggs was found when Muller’s trunk was searched and he was subsequently extradited. Back in London he was tried, found guilty and executed. ‘Mr Briggs’ Hat’ by Kate Colquhoun gives a fascinating and detailed account of the case.
The pub to which Briggs was carried continued to serve the locality under the same name until the 1980s. Until the end it remained a typical sociable East End pub. The ground floor was divided in two and whilst the Bar had a dart board and a juke box the adjacent Saloon offered a quieter venue although dominos could be played in both rooms. However, all patrons might gather round the piano for a ‘knees up’ at the end of the working week and there was something else to look forward to on a Friday as cages of pigeons would arrive ready for the Saturday race. Today there is no reminder of the Mitford Castle beyond the plaque.
If it were not for Victoria Park it is quite possible there would be none of the original cast iron bridges left on the Cut, for, although suitable for carriages, they could not have carried the motor traffic generated by the industry and residential developments which grew up around it. Continuing beyond the ‘ramp junction’ will take you under two reinforced concrete bridges which carry heavy traffic of all descriptions to and from east London and the Blackwall tunnel. Beneath them, occasionally, you might see a reminder of the extensive commercial canal traffic that once travelled along this route (4). That has mostly disappeared as too have the industries in which many people worked taking with them much of the culture of the ‘old’ East End in which Hackney Wick played a part. An intermission followed in which the factory buildings were repurposed as, for example, artists’ studios but artists might be hard put to pay the premium demanded as property prices rise.
When the Cut was put up for auction in 1833 the property included some 28 acres of adjacent land. Part of this must have been used for a small reservoir but other parts seem to have been exploited just for the extraction of gravel and brick earth, both valuable resources in a city that was expanding so rapidly. Mr Simpson does not appear to have considered that any of the land could be better used for building, suggesting instead that a purchaser might rent it out for pasture. Today, after passing under the concrete bridges it becomes clear that elements of the estate must have become some of the most valuable land in London, which has nothing to do with a huge increase in the cost of feeding livestock.
Ten years ago it was possible to emerge from under the bridges and feel that the Cut was semi-rural although the reflection in photo 5 gave a hint of what was to come. Now that is impossible. On either side of the canal the building, mostly of student residences, apartments or commercial units, must mean the area will eventually have the one of the highest densities of population in London. At the moment the walk to the junction with the Lee Navigation means passing through developments that may well coalesce into new communities quite unlike those that went before.
When London Became An Island
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