A Coastal Pub Tour on Bicycles with notes on Topography and Local History on West Thurrock to Southend-on-Sea in the county of Essex

Coastal Pub Tour | West Thurrock to Southend-on-Sea

Following our largely urban but highly enjoyable ride from Greenwich yesterday, it was time to head towards the seaside at Southend-on-Sea. We were in no great rush - the Thames estuary was getting wider as we pedalled eastwards and we were having a most interesting journey along the river.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

Being as we had spent the night at West Thurrock, we made the best of our situation to take a look at some of the old taverns that once thrived on the old London Road. Bear with me as the initial ride is rather industrial. The above vintage postcard gives the appearance of a picturesque Essex village but even when this was published the landscape was already scarred from chalk-quarrying and cement-making. The modern industrial landscape is even more of an eyesore. However, the large coal-burning power station closed in 1993. Mind you, it was replaced by a plant manufacturing industrial chemicals and detergents. West Thurrock also boasts the tallest electricity pylons in the UK, though the eye is drawn to the Dartford Crossing with the accompanying noise. The settlement's name is derived from a Saxon term meaning "the bottom of a ship" though, looking around, it feels more like being in the middle of a skip.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

The safest route from the Premier Inn down to the London Road is along the footpath of Stonehouse Lane, a busy road that follows the line of an old narrow lane that once led south to a building called the Stone House. This was demolished in the 1920s when the road was re-aligned. The route heads eastwards along the London Road, a route that was enhanced in the 18th century to provide access to the Gunpowder Magazines at Purfleet.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

Riding through the sprawl of industrial units and past the Dartford crossing it is hard to imagine that there were hardly any houses in the area in the mid-19th century. The development of the large cement works to the north of the London Road led to the construction of terraced cottages for the people who toiled in the chalk quarry. One such row, later named Goodyear Terrace, was built almost opposite a more modern road called First Avenue. The cluster of houses had their very own tavern called the Rabbits, a name that I would like to think referenced the large numbers of Leporidae hopping around the West Thurrock marshland between the London Road and River Thames. However, it may be a corruption of Rabbets which, itself derived from the Old French Rabat, the "rectangular groove or channel cut out of the edge of a board so that it will join by overlapping with the next piece, similarly cut." This is a term familiar to carpenters or boat-builders so it could have been a reference to these local trades.

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As we rolled up to The Rabbits we were saddened to see the place boarded-up. I am not sure if the tavern has any future. A local resident told me that it had been closed for some time so its outlook as a public-house is very bleak. In the early 20th century the house was operated by Seabrooke & Sons Ltd. of Grays. However, the company was acquired by Charrington's in 1929 so the livery of the premises had changed by the time of this photograph taken in the following year. By the end of the 1930s the brewery had covered the building in render but I rather like the appearance of the brickwork, which was probably locally-sourced. I am curious about the small outbuilding to the left - perhaps beers were produced here in the Victorian era. As a beer house, the Rabbits opened in the mid-19th century. It was certainly trading by the mid-1840s when John Morgan was recorded as licensee and shopkeeper.¹ Maybe the outbuilding was the old shop?

Born at Shenfield at the end of the 18th century, John Morgan had moved to West Thurrock by 1840 and, like many of the local inhabitants, worked as an agricultural labourer.² In the 1840s this part of West Thurrock was sparsely populated and The Rabbits stood in isolation. This was at a time when the Rising Sun was one of the local taverns to which labourers would traipse to Sun Point for refreshment. The Fox and Goose and Ship Inn were old houses, both trading in the 18th century. Of greater antiquity was the Blue Anchor, a house trading in the late 16th century and the Boar's Head which, along with The Harrow, was recorded in the early 18th century. The latter was a single-storey weatherboarded cottage in Back Lane, close to Stifford Bridge.³

John Morgan later worked as a gardener and lived near the beer house when it was kept by William and Elizabeth Button. This couple also sold groceries from the premises, though William Button was hauled before the magistrates in 1860 on a charge of possessing weights that were both light and unjust.⁴

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The name that became synonymous with the Rabbits was that of the Idle family. They took over the tavern in the mid-1860s and their name would remain above the door until 1955, almost a century of running this roadside hostelry. Their association with the Rabbits started when George Idle became the publican. Born in Twickenham in 1816, the son of a shoemaker married Eliza King at Marylebone in March 1846.⁵ The couple kept the George Inn at Corbets Tey near Upminster for some years.⁶ Eliza died in 1868 but George remained at the Rabbits, helped by his sons and daughters. For whatever reason, the licensee made what was reported as "a determined attempt on his life" on December 28th, 1876. It was said that he had been "ailing in mind" for some considerable time. On that Thursday night he went into the back yard of the pub and threw himself into a tub of water before inflicting a frightful wound in his throat with a razor. He subsequently staggered back into the Rabbits but collapsed in the passage due to the loss of blood caused by the wound. His sons and daughter came to his assistance and a surgeon from Aveley came quickly. The local newspaper reported that, despite the medical help, only "slight hopes were held of his recovery." Indeed, the publican died soon afterwards and was buried a few days later on January 4th, 1877.⁷

Following the death of George Idle, the licence of The Rabbits passed to his son William and then to his brother Charles. He was still running the place when the above photograph was taken. When he passed away in 1934 the licence passed jointly to his son Harry and daughter Kate.⁸ Although she was the licensee during the Second World War, she had appointed Harvey and Jessie Paquette as managers. She never married and died at Tilbury Hospital in 1955 when the family name above the door was changed to Lloyd.

In the summer of 1980 The Rabbits proved to be a logistical problem for Derek Miles, publican of the Unicorn at Bekesbourne near Canterbury. The licensee undertook a charity pub crawl, a 550-mile route including a visit to every one of 236 public-houses operated by Shepherd Neame. At the time the Rabbits was the brewery's only house across the water in Essex. Facing the option of death by carbon monoxide poisoning in the Dartford Tunnel, he said he would have to cheat a little and accept a lift.⁹ The Rabbits was still Shepherd Neame house in the early years of the 21st century when there was a Vietnamese Restaurant next door. That site has been redeveloped for housing. Indeed, the area to the south of The Rabbits, between London Road and the railway has become mostly commercial buildings. This land had been the site of a football ground, home to West Thurrock Athletic F.C.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Continuing along the London Road, it is only a short distance to the site of the Fox and Goose, the headquarters of the West Thurrock Cycling Club in the late Victorian era. Like us, the ghosts of the old wheelers would be saddened to see that the pub was demolished a few years before our cycle journey. The premises was on the north side, just past Hilltop Road. A large development of apartments now occupies the site.

The Fox and Goose was recorded from 1769 ³ so was only a little younger than the Ship Inn, our next port-of-call. The premises were fairly long, with extensions at both ends of the original core. There was considerable opposition to the demolition of the old place but, as can be seen above photograph, the occupancy of the site is considerable, perhaps swaying the councillors recommending the development.

A newspaper report of a coroner's inquest held at the Fox and Goose in August 1848 went viral, the story being published in most newspapers across the UK. The events were so shocking the press had a field day describing how Sarah Grout, a neighbouring resident, had "destroyed two of her infant children, one a boy, aged two years, named James Grout, and other a female, named Mary Ann Grout, four years of age, by cutting and killing them with a bill-hook." ¹⁰ An older son escaped and ran to a neighbour to raise the alarm. Accompanied by the licensee of the Fox and Goose, Isaac Moss, she went to the house. They found Sarah Grout upstairs in the bedroom with the dead children. It was the publican who took the bill hook from her. Thomas Steel, the parish constable, arrived and arrested the woman who was taken to Chelmsford Gaol.¹¹ At her trial the jury found her "Not Guilty" on the ground of insanity.¹²

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

This inter-war photograph shows happier times at the Fox and Goose. I assume that the charabanc is about to set off from the pub loaded with some of the regular customers. This was generally the case rather than a group arriving at the tavern from elsewhere. The local policeman has photo-bombed the shot. Most of the men are wearing button-holes so it could have been a wedding party? The proprietor of the local hat shop must have rubbed his hands in glee when they all ordered the same cap! At this time the Fox and Goose was kept by the Harding family. A native of Barking, Benjamin Harding, a carpenter by trade, moved to West Thurrock in the 1880s. For many years he worked at the Tunnel Cement Works. He and his wife, Kate, moved to the Fox and Goose at the end of the Edwardian period.¹³ Following his death in January 1915, the licence passed briefly to his wife before being succeeded by his son, also named Benjamin. He was the licensee at the time of the above photograph that shows it was an Ind Coope house. In fact, the premises were leased to the Romford brewery in the 1840s.¹⁴

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Continuing straight on at the Stoneness roundabout, the journey comes to The Ship on the north side of London Road. This inn is of some antiquity and was recorded in 1761.³ In the modern age the business model of The Ship is that of a family-run sports pub/restaurant with weekend entertainment. Still, at least it is still trading, though there is no decent cask beer.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

The hostelry is marked as the Old Ship on this late Victorian map. The incumbent of St. Clement's Church would have been able to look across to the tavern from the window of his study. Did this result in good behaviour by the imbibers enjoying a few beers? The house at the time of this map survey was occupied by the Rev. Thomas Aldersey Morley, vicar of West Thurrock and curate of Purfleet, along with his wife Bessie.¹⁵

When discussing The Ship, R. M. Smith, in his 1978 Essex pub guide, wrote : "A detached building originally built in the mid-17th century, the Ship Inn was once connected by a tunnel to nearby Saint Clement's Church ... almost certainly used for smuggling illicit goods. Records show that a publican in the 19th century was shot in the back yard of the pub, and his ghost is said to haunt the pub to this day." ¹⁶ I only type this as it is nice and juicy, but I have not ascertained the construction date for myself, or indeed, if there is an entrance to a tunnel from the cellar. Graham Smith, in his authoritative book on smuggling in Essex, wrote that "there is a total absence of any smuggling allusions, either official or indeed apocryphal, on this stretch of the Thames." ¹⁷ As for the building, as previously mentioned, it was first mentioned in 1761. The premises were used, alternately with the aforementioned Fox and Goose, for vestry meetings, until 1821. To be honest, it does look like an 18th century building to me.

Similar to the situation at the Rabbits, there was another nearby cluster of housing in which quarry workers were accommodated. A small grid was created with Peaceful Row and West Street and around sixty houses were erected in the 19th century. They have all gone. A whole micro-locale, home to a working-class community, has been wiped from the map.

Thomas Baldwin was the landlord of the Ship Inn, or Old Ship, during much of the late Victorian period. After running the hostelry for around 30 years the elderly publican moved to the White Horse Inn a pub run by his son, at North Ockendon where he died in December 1899, aged 81.¹⁸

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This photograph was taken in 1930, probably on the same day as the image of The Rabbits further west along London Road. Both pubs had been operated by Seabrooke & Sons Ltd. of Grays. The Whitbread family may have taken up residence at Purfleet but it was Seabrooke's that had a monopoly of beer sales in the Thurrock Grays area. The outbuilding on the left looks interesting, probably an outdoor toilet?

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This photograph was taken in 1939 when Arthur and Florence Butler were the managers running the Ship Inn. He was called up for service in the Second World War when Florence had to run the place as licensee.¹⁹

In the aforementioned guide, published in 1978, R. M. Smith provided a description of the Ship Inn during this period. He wrote that "the saloon bar, called the Captain's Cabin, is decorated as one might suspect to look like smart ship's quarters. The public is called the Crew's Quarters. The whole pub has recently been decorated and is small and friendly. Darts is very strong here - the pub sports four teams, including a ladies' team." At the bar one could order Crown Bitter and IPA on draught.¹⁶

© Kenneth Yarham reproduced under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

Directly opposite The Ship is a footpath with which we thought we could check out St. Clement's Church, a lovely-looking building, so lovely that they used it for the film "Four Weddings and a Funeral." An earlier design from the 12th century featured a round tower nave associated with the Knights Templar, the foundations of which are visible today. We rolled down the public footpath to cross the railway line but much to our dismay the crossing was closed for work by Network Rail. So, all I can do is feature a photograph by Kenneth Yarham showing the exterior and adjacent Procter & Gamble works. Encyclopaedias could use Kenneth's image to illustrate the meaning of juxtaposition. What a hideous contrast. The only redeeming fact being that the company financed restoration work of the church which had fallen into some decay.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Back to the London Road and heading east it is not too many wheel revolutions until the Old Shant comes into view. This is another former Seabrooke's house in which the beer choice was better back in the old days. The old beer house was then known as the Club House. It was still early in the morning so I was unable to venture inside this pub to quiz the landlord about the name of the place. I was hoping for more detail other than the entry in the "The Oxford Dictionary of Modern Slang," which simply states the word means alcoholic drink. In the early 1890s the premises, which traded as an off-licence and shop, was listed as the Club House. However, in June 1894 the Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser featured an article detailing a theft from the premises with a headline of "The Burglary at The Shant." ²⁰ In the report Albert Parry, grocer and beer retailer, was detailed as running the Club House. So, the two names were prevalent in the late Victorian period. The journalist stated that a window pane of the shop had been removed and a large box of biscuits taken from the window display. The thief emptied the contents of the box into his pockets but was seen by a watchman called Horton who reported him to the police. Constable Davey apprehended Daniel Greig, a man of no fixed address, after he found biscuit crumbs in his pockets. Instead of asking why the vagrant was so hungry that he was compelled to steal food to survive, the magistrates committed him for trial at the Assizes.

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The off-licence eventually became a tavern. I imagine that acts of benevolence by the local brewers such as providing land for a new library resulted in favourable decisions by the magistrates. Once again, we are fortunate that Charrington's sent a photographer to record the property acquired as part of their takeover of Seabrooke & Sons Ltd. of Grays in 1929. This is how the Club House looked during the following year. Though more substantial than the neighbouring row of terraced houses, it would appear that the old shop following the same building line and that the premises was extended to the road in the early 20th century. Note the tramway and derelict building to the rear of the property, a legacy of the old Thames Works that produced Portland cement. The tramway divided the old off-licence from the land of Home Farm. In the 21st century two tracks still follow the lines of the tramway up to a messy site filled with shipping containers.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

Although we had an interesting look at some of the taverns of London Road in West Thurrock, it was a relief to escape from the busy traffic and head back to the river. Mind you, the journey along the main road does mean that one avoids the awful path around the Proctor & Gamble site. The route back to the Thames is along Wouldham Road and over the railway line. From here the riverside path is good tarmac.

© Still from the film "The Guns of Loos"

Where the road meets the cycle/footpath there is a jetty for NuStar Energy. Next to this is a disused wharf that also had a pier with a tramway to carry cement to vessels. One of the tramway lines was from the Grays Portland Cement Works, the site of which is to the left of the cycle path heading towards Grays. The site was redeveloped in more recent times with apartment blocks. The cement works, one of many on this stretch of the Thames, created a noisy industrial environment. The air was thick with cement dust, a grey layer forming on every surface. By the time people had dried their washing on the line the clothes were in need of a repeat visit to the wash-house. Even after the closure of the cement works the landscape here was a terrible eyesore. Indeed, the derelict buildings and general state of desolation resulted in the site being used as a set for "The Guns of Loos" war film.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

In no time at all we rolled up to The Wharf, a pub we had cycled past during the previous evening in our journey to beer excellence at Grays High Street. We saw a decent crowd sat outside this pub on the previous evening, patrons that are less fussy about their cask beer and happy to sup on Doom Bar or lager. Fair enough, different pubs serve different needs. I get the impression that the fortunes of this nice old building could be transformed with a bit of TLC. UPDATE: This pub has been refurbished and improved since our cycle journey. The Wharf Hotel, as it was then known, can be seen on this map extract from the World War One years. As can be seen, the building sat amid the extensive industrial landscape. Here there was another pier with a tramway connecting to the chalk quarries and brickworks to the north. The remains of this wharf and pier can be seen on the other side of the wall built to harness the rising tide in this section of the River Thames. As a result The Wharf is nestled below and customers cannot see the Thames.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

In this inter-war image of the Wharf Hotel it can be seen that it was then an Ind Coope house. Note the disused tram rails in the foreground. These can be seen on the 1916 map extract. Another raised tramway can be seen to the left, along with some relics of the cement works.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

In this post-war photograph some of the disused buildings seen in the 1916 map extract were still on the ground. Of particular interest is the former malthouse close to the Wharf Hotel.

The creation of the piers for the tramway, along with a dedicated wharf for the cement works, almost certainly resulted in the name of the tavern changing to the Wharf Hotel. Up until large scale industry of the 19th century, the old tavern was known as the Sailor's Return Inn. But even this was a change from the Jolly Sailor, the inn sign under which the pub traded in the 18th century.

Listing for John Crib at the Sailor's Return Inn [1791]

The large malthouse was probably an expansion of a business operated by John Crib in the late 18th century. He was documented as a corn porter and victualler of the Sailor's Return. The photograph above suggests that he also operated a hop kiln so no doubt the tavern was retailing ales produced from the output of the maltings and kiln. Oh, to be able to journey back in time when there was little development on the Thames and to be able to sit alongside a tranquil riverside drinking a beer made by the Crib family.

By the 1820s the Sailor's Return was kept by the Tolhurst family. Trade directories show that William Tolhurst was the licensee in the mid-late 1820s. However, in November 1824 Thomas Tolhurst was the landlord of the riverside tavern. His name would become known throughout the county following a violent disturbance in the pub. It was on the evening of November 17th, 1824, that the publican, after nipping out on business, returned to the pub to find a man named Davis quarrelling with his wife. William Tolhurst attempted to turf him out of the pub but was struck by the drunken imbiber. The publican sent for the constable but before the officer could get to the tavern Davis continued his attack on William Tolhurst. The affray brought the pair towards the fireplace with the publican picking up a poker and striking Davis on the head. A newspaper report stated that Davis, "instead of treating the consequences with due caution, continued to riot and get drunk insomuch that inflammation is supposed to have ensued, and he died." ²¹ A contemporary account indicated that death did not occur on the same night. Apparently, a surgeon was sent for, the wound dressed, following which Davis was put to bed. On the following day he was drinking at the public-house and was seemingly doing well. However, after a few days his head wound assumed an alarming appearance and his condition declined. After languishing until December 17th, the troublesome customer died. At the subsequent inquest the coroner committed the publican for trial on a charge of killing and slaying Davis. This was not a period in which one would relish a day in court. In 1825 other local men were receiving seven year sentences for poaching. Two men were sentenced to death for burglary, a fate with the hangman that awaited John Croaker who had been arrested for horse stealing. However, at the Chelmsford Assizes held in March 1825, the jury, after deliberating for a considerable time, found Thomas Tolhurst not guilty and he was acquitted.²² I imagine that patrons of the Sailor's Return were a little wary of the poker-wielding landlord, or at least opted not to sit next to the fireplace before hurling any abuse in his direction.

The presence of a dead body in the Sailor's Return was a fairly regular occurrence as many a poor soul that had drowned in the river was brought into the pub before an inquest was held by the coroner. Most deaths were accidents or misadventure, some were suicides. One inquest in December 1838, on the body of 17 year-old John Sills of Maidstone, was held in the Sailor's Return after he was picked out of the water by William Wyles of Queenhithe. The inquest had to be adjourned four times before the jury returned a verdict of manslaughter against Captain Parker, of the brig Jarrow, "by whom the barge Maria, skippered by Captain Harmer Wood, was run down in Long Reach. John Sills was onboard the barge and was drowned. It appeared that the brig came improperly down mid-channel against the tide, with the anchor hanging to the chain instead of being catted or fished or hung awash, a fact proved by James Hodsell, of Yalding, the mate, and several witnesses." ²³ Stood outside The Wharf and looking out across the water, I wondered how many boats have sunk in the River Thames and just how many fragments of the vessels are embedded in the mud.

The name of the hostelry was changed in the early-mid-1880s when John and Hannah McNeil were running the place. John McNeil, who hailed from the Isle of Bute, died in 1889, his Durham-born wife continuing as landlady. She was associated with the tavern for more than four decades when she passed away in 1923. She had a cat to which she was very attached. However in 1906 her favourite moggy was missed, the landlady strongly suspecting that it had got onto a ship and had been taken away to sea. A few months later a vessel put into the wharf, and during the evening the cat came meowing at the door of the hotel, apparently little the worse for its sea-faring experiences.²⁴

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

From The Wharf it is only 280 metres to West Wharf, though there is nothing of historical interest with which to form an impression or perception of the scene in days of old. Could they not have left some fragments of the dock? The eastern side of the basin was once occupied by a timber yard. Indeed, the foreshore of the yard was known as Railway Sleepers Wharf. Adjacent to this yard, and extending to Town Wharf, was the boatyard of E. J. & W. Goldsmith Limited, a firm founded in 1848. By the time of the First World War the company had one of the largest fleets of sailing barges, operating along the coastline as far as Cornwall and Yorkshire. Some of their fleet also sailed to the continent.²⁵

Like most people, I am referring to the town simply as Grays though, historically, it was known as Grays Thurrock. The name is thought to commemorate Henry de Grey, Lord of the Manor of Thurrock in the late 12th century, following its seizure by the King from Josce, grandson of Josce the Rabbi. Grays Thurrock became a small port and only grew in importance with industrialisation during the 19th century. It subsequently became a hive of activity with all manner of goods being brought in and sent to other parts of the UK and mainland Europe. It is sad that there are no relics of the Victorian age which would provide the visitor with some tangible evidence of the commerce that made Grays such a busy hub. Sad too, that much of the historic High Street has vanished.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

This Edwardian view of the High Street says it all really. If this still existed then the town would be flooded, not by the waters of the Thames but by tourists. I covered our previous evening's visit to the excellent White Hart, the original weather-boarded building seen to the left in the above photograph. Sadly, the tavern on the right, facing the White Hart, was lost when the street was widened. The house had a classic seafaring inn sign - The Anchor and Hope.

One thing I did not mention in yesterday's notes was an inquest held in the White Hart during July 1846 to discuss a barge that left Grays Wharf heavily laden with chalk. The master of the barge was warned to batten down the hatches before leaving the wharf, which he neglected to do, and the consequence was that the vessel sank within a mile of departure. The master and mate escaped by the boat, but a young man named Robert Wilkinson, a servant at the White Hart Inn, who accompanied them, was drowned. His body was found two days afterwards near Greenhithe. It was reported that all the parties were intoxicated.²⁶

Extract from page 1 of the "Essex Herald" published on Tuesday July 21st, 1846.

There is no doubt that the Anchor and Hope occupied an old building. Some suggest it was a very old smuggler's tavern that had a lookout. However, I have not stumbled on any concrete evidence that it was an ancient watering hole. Indeed, as a beer house it could not have been licensed until the 19th century. If I had to stick my neck out I would say that the frontage looks like a former retail shop.

There is a tale surrounding the Hope and Anchor regarding The Press Gang. The story goes that, a body of armed men, led by an officer, came to Grays Thurrock in search of hapless youngsters for naval service. On spotting their advance, one lad ran into the house and hid beneath the crinoline skirt of the licensee's wife who was stood behind the bar. The Press Gang burst into the building in search of a victim but did not look behind the counter. A nice story but rather unlikely as this small beer house may not have had a servery in those days. Moreover, following the defeat of Napoleon, the practice of impressment was greatly reduced, a period in which this house was not licensed. And one has to consider the landlady's modesty!

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

One event that certainly took place was the rather novel feat of pedestrianism by a professional athlete in 1867. Glorying in the nom de plume of "Young Bristol," he announced that on Saturday February 9th of that year he would walk 50 miles in 12 hours, 20 yards of the distance out of every 50 to be walked backwards. He set off from the Anchor and Hope at an early hour, and "walked to the Ship Inn, East Tilbury, a distance of seven miles, eight times, the final heat being accomplished some quarter of an hour before the appointed time. The novelty of the feat brought crowds from the neighbouring villages, and the young athlete was lustily cheered and substantially rewarded on the completion of his task." ²⁷

It was not until 1960 that the licence of the Anchor and Hope was extinguished. Seabrooke & Sons Ltd, owners of the property, had offered to surrender the licence in 1927 when they applied to the magistrates for a new licence for a house they were proposing to build near Socketts Heath, Little Thurrock. The Bench, however, refused the application.²⁸ Three years later, the licence was almost removed by the magistrates who considered the matter of redundancy.²⁹

When the Anchor and Hope finally closed in 1960 the popular landlady was Frances "Mum" Sprinks. She had been serving beer to her regular clientele from the 1930s. Her husband, William, had previously held the licence but died in December 1942. Despite objections by many local residents, some of whom had been drinking at the house for the entirety of their lives, the Anchor and Hope was deemed redundant by the magistrates.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

I took this photograph from the sea wall, looking towards the Yacht Club at Grays. I was perhaps drawn to the rotting vessel looking like a nautical skip. The dying vessel is a rather compelling view. The Yacht Club occupies a former coal wharf on which stands the mast and lantern of the aforementioned wreck. Named the Gull, the boat, built in 1860, was bought by the Yacht Club after it was retired from service.³⁰

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

Surprisingly - well to me as an outsider at least - Grays had a beach amid all the industry. A group of children can be seen playing in the sand, brought in as an artificial beach when the area was laid out in 1906 as a recreation space on land gifted by William Williams. He attended the formal opening of the riverside park, the ceremony being performed by Herbert Brooks, chairman the Grays Urban Council. Messrs. Arthur Boatman and John Golden, who were credited for the acquisition of the land and the creation of the park, "repudiated any desire to make Grays a seaside resort." To the amusement of the crowd gathered, Mr. Boatman said "it was not to make a Blackpool or a Brighton that the Park was acquired, but simply for the use of the Grays people. There was considerable opposition to the scheme at first, but those who opposed were now asking for more beach, more sand, and more water." ³¹

In the background is the training ship, Exmouth, a vessel constructed by Vickers Sons and Maxim at their Naval Construction Works, Barrow-in-Furness, to the order of the Metropolitan Asylums Board. It replaced the earlier HMS Exmouth which had been used for the training of London boys since 1876.³² It does beg the question of why build a replica of an old vessel for training purposes? Officially opened as a training ship in July 1905, the vessel was commanded by Captain R. B. Colmore, formerly of HMS Black Prince.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

The beach is the end of the road in terms of cycling along the Thames - for now. There is no way around Tilbury Port along the river bank so do not waste time attempting to follow a path. There is a fence with police notices warning the public not to attempt gaining entry. Still, every cloud has a silver lining and this afforded an opportunity to explore part of Little Thurrock.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Our route out of town took us along Argent Street, the site of the Castle Inn, to the site of the Thorrock Brewery. Not that there is anything left to see. It is all housing these days. Once the brewery had gone some of the buildings were used by the Co-op Milk Depot and a large laundry. We continued up Bridge Road where, on the corner of William Street, we came across the forlorn-looking Bricklayers' Arms. I was rather surprised to see it had the livery of Brakspear's. Having closed down, the pub looked a bit of a mess but there was still a lovely inn sign hanging from the corner of the building. It was therefore essential that I almost got myself run over in order to take a photograph of the signboard. Featuring a bricklayer hard at it with his trowel, the signboard bears the motto Castello Fortier Concordia, meaning "Peace is stronger than a fortress," hence the illustrations in the background. This motto is used within the Coat-of-Arms of Northampton and was first recorded in 1617. I expected to see the motto of the Worshipful Company of Tylers and Bricklayers' which is "In God is all our trust, let us never be confounded." The earliest reference to this Company is in 1416, though records show that a Guild representing the crafts was in already in existence. A Charter was granted to the Company in 1568. I wondered if there was a Northampton connection with Grays but I see that William Peverel, Lord of the Manor after the Norman invasion, is associated with Nottingham. The Manor later passed to the Ferrers family, earls of Derby. Henry de Grey, the man who the settlement is named after, seems to have no connection either. I am puzzled.

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I generally experience a pang of sadness whenever I see a pub in this state, a sight that has become far too familiar in the 21st century. The Thurrock Gazette reported on a fire in the former Bricklayers' Arms during 2017. The fire brigade were quickly on the scene and extinguished the flames. It was only when the smoke had dissipated that the fire crew found a homeless man on the first floor. It was thought that the fire had started from a discarded cigarette.

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

Thanks to the Charrington archive, we can see the Bricklayers' Arms in happier times and looking rather resplendent. Notice the faux-marble pilasters, probably made of Vitrolite, a popular material used during the inter-war years. The name of the licensee, E. C. Golden, can be seen above the Bridge Road entrance. This was Edith Clara Golden who was landlady after the death of her husband John. Indeed, the Golden family kept this house for generations. They were originally tenants of Seabrooke & Sons Ltd., the brewery being a very short distance away. So, as one can see, most of the public-houses passed on this journey through the Thurrock area were operated by this firm, the exception being The Wharf which was an Ind Coope pub.

It was the Norfolk-born bricklayer Francis Golden who was responsible for the tavern's name. He moved to Grays by the early 1860s and worked as a bricklayer. Helped by his sons, he built a family business as a builder. In 1881 he employed nine men and three boys, by which time he was also operating a beer shop and off-licence that he had named in celebration of his trade.³³ It was quite common for different trades to be clustered in particular areas of a town and many public-houses were named to celebrate this. This not only helped to foster a local identity but encouraged customer loyalty from the local residents - a sound economic decision for many a publican.

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Francis Golden died in 1887 and was succeeded by his son John. Unlike his brother James who, like their father, had become a bricklayer, John Golden was a joiner by trade. He married Edith Clara Tye in March 1898.³⁴ He became a councillor for Grays. He also improved the simple boozer and in 1900 was advertising "the most comfortable club-room in Grays," along with a committee room for meetings. The bodies and societies that met at the pub included the Associated Shipwrights' Society, the Amalgamated Society of Carpenters and Joiners, Grays Musical Society, Loyal Gordon Lodge, Manchester Unity of Oddfellows, and the Bricklayers' Arms Slate Club.³⁵

John Golden served on the council for three decades and for three years was a member of the County Council. He was largely responsible for the creation of the aforementioned beach at Grays and the provision of a public park. Successful in business he left a fair amount in his will to Edith when he died in 1921. She subsequently became the licensee of the Bricklayers' Arms until the Second World War. In 1941 she handed over the reins to her son John who remained as licensee for over two decades. It is very rare to stumble upon a boozer that was kept by the same family for a century.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

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We continued along Gipsy Lane, turning right onto Broadway. In no time at all, the Traitor's Gate appears on the right, located on the corner of the narrow East Street. The pub is to the right in the above photograph - I will explain why I have displayed the building from this angle, to include a neighbouring dog-grooming shop.

Selling up to five real ales, the Traitor's Gate is a popular drinking den. Indeed, it was voted Local CAMRA Pub of the Year in 2014. That was when it was the tap of the local Deverell's Brewery. Some websites, including the CAMRA page, list this pub in Little Thurrock. However, the boundary was a few metres to the east, next to a tramway that linked the Globe Works with the wharf on the river. A garage and taxi firm occupy a site on the tramway line, the rails continuing along a route under my feet and through the site now occupied by a petrol station. Having said that, although census enumerators included the property within Grays Thurrock, the pub was listed under Little Thurrock in Victorian trade directories. A map dated 1863 does seem to indicate that the boundary line was different in earlier times - all very confusing.

The pub was formerly a beer house called the Half Moon Inn but it was NOT in the present building. The reason for including the building on the other side of East Street is that the ground floor has the look of a former pub. Having said that, it is likely that the former Half Moon was closer to the junction with Gipsy Lane. The one constant in the jigsaw puzzle that is the early history of this tavern is Mary Ann Cracknell, a woman who worked her way up from the workhouse to wealthy retirement. She married Thomas Smithson, a butcher and publican here in Grays. After he died the widow married the licensed victualler, Henry Miller, in August 1855.³⁶ In the census of 1861 the couple were recorded in this location, though not this building, and Henry Miller was recorded as a baker and beer retailer - an apposite surname for a baker. He employed William Cole in the bakery. Three of Mary Ann's daughters from her previous marriage were living on the premises.³⁷

Henry Miller died in July 1865 and Mary Ann was a widow once again. With the help of her two daughters, Eliza and Mary, she continued as landlady of the Half Moon Inn. The bakery side of the business was carried on by Charles Davis who lived on the premises. It was at the Grays Brewster Sessions of September 1885 that Mary Ann Miller applied for the removal of the licence of the Half Moon Inn to the adjoining house. The magistrates granted the transfer.³⁸

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Mary Ann Miller, an elderly widow, seems to have sold up soon after the transfer. In retirement she moved around the corner to Gipsy Lane. At the Grays Petty Sessions held in May 1886 the licence of the Half Moon Inn was transferred to Abraham Clements³⁹. Later in the year, during October, he applied for a wine licence. His solicitor advised the Bench that £2,000 had recently been expended on the premises, and travellers who stopped at the hotel required something besides beer. His application was refused.⁴⁰ A volunteer with the fire brigade, he was not a man to give up lightly and, during the following year, obtained a spirits licence for the Half Moon Inn.⁴¹

Extract from page 3 of the "Essex Times" published on Wednesday March 18th, 1891.

There was an epidemic of influenza at Grays Thurrock in 1891, more than 70 cases being reported in May of that year. Abraham Clements died from bronchitis, after going down with the virus. The publican's funeral was held at Stifford Church, the members of the Grays Volunteer Fire Brigade being present in full uniform. The funeral procession was headed by the Grays Town Band playing the "Dead March" and the coffin was borne on the fire engine, which was covered with a pall, the deceased's helmet, belt, and hatchet being placed on the lid of the coffin.⁴²

Moving from The Harrow at North Benfleet, Frederick Dorman was granted the licence of the Half Moon Inn during November 1891. Considering the recent track record of the Half Moon Inn, the Chairman, addressing the publican, stated that "it was a house that required very careful management." Frederick Dorman said "he would do his best to conduct the house satisfactorily to all concerned." ⁴³ The Dorman family would run the Half Moon Inn for a generation.

Folks say it is best to avoid talking politics when drinking in a pub. Two men who failed to heed such advice were Percy Boosey and William England. They were boozing in the Half Moon Inn one Saturday afternoon in January 1910 when they started arguing about politics. This led to a quarrel, with both men taking off their coats before going outside for some fisticuffs. The men squared up and William England hit Percy Boosey with a blow that knocked him to the ground. He was insensible for a few moments, but afterwards recovered and went back inside the Half Moon for a glass of beer. He then went home, but, while talking to his wife, collapsed and remained unconscious until he died on the following Monday morning. At the Coroner's inquest, the jury, after a long deliberation, returned a verdict of manslaughter against William England. He was committed to take his trial at the following Assize.⁴⁴

Frederick Dorman died in 1919, and he was succeeded by his son, also named Frederick. Ten years later the landlord was found dead with his throat cut at the house at which he was spending a holiday at Gorleston. His brother, Arthur, bank manager, of South Woodford, said he visited him at his lodgings. He was then half-dressed, and said he was going to the lavatory. After he had been gone about three minutes a friend called to see him, and, as he said he could hear groaning, they went to the lavatory, where they found Frederick Dorman with his throat cut. A doctor was summoned, but life was pronounced extinct. His brother attributed the publican's act to overwork, as for the previous five or six years he had been working from six in the morning until midnight. He was advised by his doctor to go for a holiday. Returning a verdict of suicide while temporarily insane, the Coroner said that deceased had no doubt considerably overworked himself for the previous six years.⁴⁵

During World War 2 the assistant manager at the Half Moon Inn was Hector Emery. He made the national newspapers when Blackie, his black-and-tan mongrel dog, went missing. The reason for this being newsworthy was that Blackie held three gallantry awards, won in 1941, for rescuing another dog from a blitzed cottage. The decorations were : Sunday Pictorial Brave Pets' Medal, R.S. C.A. Meritorious Collar, and the Brave Medal of the Tailwaggers' Club.⁴⁶

Another pub dog to make the national newspapers was a 16½ stone Old English mastiff owned by Ken Telford, licensee of the Half Moon in 1964. A photograph of the dog was sent to Pentonville Prison to stop an argument among the prisoners. The argument started when one of the inmates tried to convince others that his local pub landlord had a foolproof answer to would-be wage snatchers. The prisoner told them the publican used to walk to the bank with the dog holding the pub's takings between its massive jaws. But nobody believed him. So, the prisoner used his one letter a week to write to the publican to ask for a picture of his 3-year-old mastiff, Sinbad. The publican said : "I hope the picture has settled the argument. If it hasn't, I feel sorry for anybody who comes out of prison and tries to take the money-bag out of Sinbad's mouth. He'll get eaten." Ken Telford, told the Daily Mirror that "he is never bothered with burglars or rowdies in the bar," adding that "he brushes the dog's coat with a 3-ft. long ripsaw blade." The publican remarked that "Sinbad is one of the best buys I ever made - he's a walking insurance policy. Sometimes he carries £300 or £400 for me, but I never have any worries. If all else fails, I know he can just sit on a bandit - for he weighs more than Cassius Clay." ⁴⁷

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And so we floated like butterflies a short distance along Dock Road to the Ship Inn. It looked as though the building had recently been refurbished and the frontage tidied up somewhat. I believe the pub, operated by Punch Taverns, had closed for a period so it must have re-opened shortly before we cycled along Dock Road. Of course, this is not the original Ship Inn, the older tavern dated back another century or so. It was documented in 1818 when Edward Lees was the licensee. He and his wife Susan kept the house for a generation. He was hauled before the Bench at the Billericay Petty Sessions in July 1839 on a charge of short measuring his customers. An officer entered the premises and found that many of the pewter jugs used in the Ship Inn were not stamped and did not hold the correct measure of ale. He was also charged with having several weights in his possession that were lighter than the stated weight. The publican was fined heavily and his illegitimate wares seized. Abraham Turp, licensee of the nearby Bull, who also traded as a butcher, was no better for he was fined at the same Sessions for light weights and having a piece of lead affixed to his scales.⁴⁸ What a pair of scoundrels, robbing their regular patrons and neighbours.

When Edward Lees died in 1847, the licence of the Ship Inn passed to his wife Susan. However, the elderly widow was a prime target for robbers seeking easy prey. Two such reprobates, Thomas Brown and Eliza Ramsey, the latter from Rochford, called into the Ship Inn for a drink in March 1849 and, after scoping the premises and sussing out the landlady's situation, returned in the night and burgled the property. The robbery was one of several they committed in the locality but the law caught up with them and they were committed for trial.⁴⁹

The Ship Inn was used for many coroner's inquests during the 19th century. Some were for tragic accidents but on some occasions there were sinister circumstances surrounding the death of somebody found in the marshes or woodland close to the pub. For example, in November 1906 the body of an unknown man was found in Hangman's Wood by James Goodman, a resident of Grays. He reported the matter to the police and Constable Snowling went to woods and carried the body to the Ship Inn where he was laid out for the inquest. A revolver was found near to the spot where the body was found. On searching his body inside the pub it was found that his pockets contained money and a watch which led to the conclusion that the man, thought to be from Tilbury, had committed suicide.³⁰ He was one of several who committed such acts in Little Thurrock. The name of Hangman's Wood suggests that at least one execution was undertaken there. The woodland is noted for a number of deneholes which may have attracted those wishing to end their days by throwing themselves into the deep excavations. Today, they afford a priceless habitat for a number of bat species. Or perhaps they are ideal for disposing of a body. I have clearly watched too many crime dramas on the telly.

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Kempley Court, across the road from The Ship was the site of the Wesleyan Methodist Chapel built in 1876. Records for the building seem to fizzle out in 1978 so perhaps that was the date of closure. In 1904 the building drew large crowds to hear speeches by Paddy Norman, the former bookmaker, comic and pugilist. In order to accommodate the large numbers of people wishing to hear him speak, a week-long programme of speeches were organised.⁵¹ He certainly seems to have been a very charismatic character. He was particularly popular in the industrial north and would talk for several hours to very large audiences. The press thought he had an earnest and original way of expounding the scriptures, combined with his ready wit and thrilling stories. At Little Thurrock the people in the packed church were enthralled, sometimes in laughter, sometimes in tears.⁵²

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130 metres further along Dock Road is the Church of Saint Mary. Dating from around 1170-80, it was largely constructed of flint, mixed rubble and dressed in stone. When the building was restored and enlarged in the late 1870's the parishioners were astonished to learn that a singular arch in the south side of the nave was discovered, under which was a curious wall painting.⁵³

Close to Saint Mary's is the former Church of England School. Featuring a clock tower, the building was designed by Messrs. Elmslie & Franey, architects based at Parliament Street in Westminster, who invited tenders for the building work in May 1871. The school opened in the following year.⁵⁴

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From the church and school it is less than 300 metres to The Bull, an interesting-looking building with a uninteresting beer and food offer. This place had a good old punch-up in 2018, a mass brawl that kick-started a police investigation. It would appear that the operators, Heybar, have given the place a lick of paint and are pitching at patrons less inclined to kick-off. The marketing sloganeers have been at work on the frontage with "Gather, Guzzle, Graze" but I much prefer the paint-job of Seabrooke & Sons Ltd., advertising their "Fine Thorrock Ales"....

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The twin-gambrel roof is unusual but has not seemingly earned the building any listed status. It is certainly a tavern of some antiquity. Nathaniel Cramphorne was the landlord in the 1820s. He had married Ann Jackson in 1818 at the church along the road. He was succeeded by the aforementioned Abraham Turp, the scoundrel of the scales who cheated his customers with the use of dodgy weights in the butchery side of his business. He was also convicted of assault against Thomas Strickland in February 1840.⁵⁵ Richard William Ashbee, landlord in the late 1860s, was even more intemperate. In August 1869 he was charged with being drunk and riotous in the village. In the same year he was charged with resisting Police-Constables William Saward and John Front while in the execution of their duty in apprehending two men charged with felony at Little Thurrock. As a consequence the magistrates refused to renew his licence at the following Sessions.⁵⁶

Extract from page 1 of the "Essex Herald" published on Tuesday September 21st, 1869.

Forced to sell up, Richard Ashbee had already set in motion the detachment of the farming business attached to The Bull. In September 1869 he instructed an auctioneer to sell his interests in the land adjoining. The advertisement shows that The Bull was part of a farming enterprise and probably the reason for the inn sign rather than any religious or sporting link.

It was time to head back towards the river and the safest route to Tilbury was via Marshfoot Road and south on Saint Chad's Road. This follows an older lane that led from the site of Saint Chad's Well. Tilbury is an ancient place where Roman artefacts have been discovered. However, it did not exist as a town until the arrival of the railway and the construction of the docks, the latter attracting thousands of people seeking employment. The early housing was of a very poor standard and was not improved until after the First World War. Any improvements were largely ruined by German bomber planes in World War 2, along large scale unemployment following the mechanisation of the docks. It is now ranked as one of the worst places to live in Essex. I have to admit, parts of the place look pretty grim.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

I have plotted the keys pubs on the above map extract dated 1895. I thought this may help as the place has changed since this date, a period when the new town was still in its infancy. The docks, of course, cannot be accessed. Of the pubs marked only the World's End was still going during our visit. Note that The Anchor had not been built at the time of this survey. Also, the Diamond Jubilee was only licensed for off-sales.

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We turned into the Civic Square in order to get some cash, water and snacks. The sight of The Anchor seemed to exemplify the downward spiral of the new town pipe dream to that of crushed hope and dilapidation. The insalubrious appearance of the exterior conveys an impression that there is no redemption, despite the fact that the interior has been converted into a church. By the time we rolled up to the building it had been more than a decade since the last pints were poured in The Anchor. Last orders were called and the landlord handed the licence back to the authorities following a series of ugly incidents throughout 2009. Essex Police had been called out on more than twenty occasions during the year. In one incident a customer died after being beaten up when he walked out of the pub. On another occasion two men confronted each other in The Anchor which led to a stabbing in the Civic Square. Inevitably, local residents were afraid to patronise The Anchor and not even the involvement of Wetherspoon's could turn things around.

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This photograph of The Anchor was taken in 1927, the year after the pub opened for business. The custodians of the new public-house in the late 1920s and early 1930s were Frank and Eleanor Morant. Earlier in the decade the couple managed the Prince Albert at All Hallows Barking in the City of London.⁵⁷ After their sojourn in Essex they returned from whence they came by running Ye Olde King's Arms on Aldersgate Street in the City of London.⁵⁸

Given the pub's final chapter of violent behaviour, it is interesting to note that it was only months after opening that The Anchor featured in the press due to a fight outside the premises. In the following year Michael McWall, an Irish docker, was hauled before the magistrates after a 'disagreement' with the publican. When the police came to arrest him it was noted that he was bleeding from the head after having fought with another Irishman in The Anchor.⁵⁹

Reginald Hollingsbee was running The Anchor with his wife Rosina in the late 1930s when he ended up in court for allowing unlawful games in the bar. During the court case it was reported that two regular customers were holding raffles for ten bob notes.⁶⁰ They would have as many as forty punters trying to win the money, enough in those days to ensure a few nights on the pop.

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Before leaving the square we paused at the war memorial which, like the monument we saw on the previous day at Rainham, this also serves as a clock tower. Unveiled on the day before Remembrance Sunday in 1934, the memorial commemorates 156 local servicemen who died during the First World War, along with the names of those who were killed in the Second World War. One person who died in Malaya in 1950, and another from the Falklands Conflict of 1982, have also been added.

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From the Civic Square, it is a short cycle ride along Calcutta Road to the junction of Dock Road and Broadway where the former Ship Hotel stands. Although the building had served as the post-office in recent years, the building looks a bit of mess compared to the neat edifice created by Charrington's.....

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This photograph was taken in 1939 when the Ship Hotel was managed by Edward and Margaret Nattrass, both natives of County Durham. Also living on the premises were three barmen, John Norman, William Bullivant and James Bass, plus two barmaids, Sophie Levett and Mary Reid.⁶² The number of staff suggests that the Ship Hotel was a busy hostelry.

In April 1899 a serious affray with armed burglars occurred at the Ship Hotel. It was reported that "about one o'clock a barman named Edward Digby was sitting up, awaiting the return of another barman, the house being closed, when he heard the chink of money in the bar. He went thither, and saw a couple of burglars at work on the till. Edward Digby pluckily rushed forward to seize the men, but in the struggle was quickly overcome, and one of the burglars, drawing a revolver, fired twice at him, the shots entering the left side. Before an alarm could raised, the burglars got clear away, taking £7 odd in cash." ⁶² A follow-up report stated that Edward Digby "has been progressing favourably, but no clue has been obtained to the identity of the perpetrators." The Grays & Tilbury Gazette stated that: "We understand that Harry Reed, the manager of the Hotel, has tendered his resignation to the brewers and owners of the house, Seabrooke & Sons Ltd., this having been brought about in great part by the shock to Mrs. Reed of the accumulation of unfortunate occurrences, of which the burglary and shooting have served as the climax." ⁶³ One of these "unfortunate occurrences" was the death of another customer who was put out of the Ship Hotel for playing up, a case which saw the publican facing questions in court over the incident. Before I visited Tilbury I was aware of how it was viewed as a dangerous place but, after reading through old newspapers for stories regarding its public-houses, it would seem that it twas ever thus.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

This map extract dated 1895 shows the location of the Ship Hotel, along with the footbridge that led from Dock Road to the Canteen. There were two licensed houses called the Canteen which makes it a little confusing. On the above map the establishment marked was simply called the Canteen. This was also known as the Dock Canteen whilst another establishment was further south by the basin and steam laundry. That place, as its location suggests, was called the Basin Canteen. The latter became known as the Basin Tavern whilst this Canteen altered its name to the Dock Restaurant. Those living in Tilbury seemed to sidetrack the confusion by calling them the 'Top Canteen' and 'Bottom Canteen.'

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The 'Top' Canteen quickly became known as the Dock Canteen and, subsequently, the Station Restaurant. The reason for the canteen names is almost certainly a combination of two factors. Firstly, a principal role of the two buildings was to serve food to the large number of employees who were unable to leave the dock area during their shift. Secondly, they replaced two temporary canteens that served the vast army of navvies and labourers that had worked on the excavation of the docks.

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During Stage 1 of the cycle journey, the route passed the older West India Docks at the Isle of Dogs, along with the East India Dock Basin at Blackwall, both being close to London. Although suitable in their day, the size and capacity of ships grew significantly in the 19th century. The rail links provided transport to a place where deep water docks would enable the East and West India Docks Company to compete for trade with the London and St. Katherine Dock Company who had built the Royal Albert Dock at Silvertown. The inter-war aerial photograph [above] affords a sense of the site not long after the docks had been enlarged. The Western, Central and Eastern Berths are featured in this image.

It was on July 3rd, 1882, that an Act of Parliament was passed to allow construction of deep water docks at Tilbury. Work on the ground commenced five days later. This was no prolonged project akin to HS2. The Victorians did not hang about - the pace of excavation and construction went faster than a checkout operator at Aldi or Lidl. In an article published in the Chelmsford Chronicle in July 1883, by a journalist venturing along to witness the work, stated : "Any one at all familiar with the vast extent of the existing dock accommodation along the Thames could hardly fail to be amazed by a visit just now to the scene the new enterprise in which the East and West India Dock Company have embarked at Tilbury. They are supplementing their present large system, comprising the East India, the West India, and South West India Docks, by a new series of the deepest docks in the world. They - or their contractors - have some 2,000 men, 40 horses, between 30 and 40 locomotive engines, seven steam navvies, and 1,000 trucks all busily employed in the work, which in point of magnitude is such as even the Thames has not hitherto seen." The article went on to describe the works in detail before remarking "the contractors' difficulties have thus far arisen from beer rather than water. There would seem to be great scope for the blue-ribbon folk down here. A fine canteen has been erected with its inevitable beer engine, and another about to be opened." ⁶⁴ These were the canteens to cater for the army of labourers toiling day and night to deliver the project on time. Lighting was installed so that work continued around the clock. The docks were formally opened in April 1886 - less than four years after the first shovel went into the ground. Incredible.

It was at the Grays Brewster Sessions held on Friday 7th, 1883, that the solicitor, Mr. Rawlings, made an application on behalf of Robert Pryor of Truman, Hanbury, Buxton & Co., for "a provisional licence for a large and commodious hotel and two canteens, about to be erected at the new docks at Tilbury." The magistrates were advised that the proposed expenditure was £45,000 building the hotel, and £10,000 on the two canteens. Mr. Manning, engineer of the new docks, was called as a witness, and stated that "the sanitary arrangements would be such as a great public company ought to afford." Colonel Du Plat Taylor, secretary to the East and West India Dock Company, said "it was intended to have the hotel and canteens ready by the time the new docks were opened, which they hoped would be next July twelvemonth." He further stated that "the canteens would be erected for the accommodation of their own men, who were not enabled to leave the docks after they entered in the morning until they had finished their work at night. The company would have 2,000 men engaged there, and the company hoped to have 5,000 men under the gates if they got the custom they expected to have." The Bench were also informed that tea, and other refreshments would be provided on the premises. The Bench granted the application, on the condition that the two existing licenses for canteens should be abandoned directly the new docks are opened. Interestingly, at the same sessions, another solicitor representing the interests of Ind Coope and Co., of Romford, sought a provisional license for a hotel, which the company intended to construct near the new docks. However, the Bench refused the application on the ground that no neighbourhood existed there at present.⁶⁵ So, it would appear that Truman's had a monopoly on the lucrative trade in the dock area.

As can be seen in the above photograph, access to the first floor of the 'Top' Canteen, or Station Restaurant as it was known when the image was captured, was via a raised walkway. The building may not have been constructed on the planned site. It was originally proposed to build the canteen over a culvert near the station, but in April 1884 it was found that this could not be achieved, a key reason being that the railway authorities wanted it to be erected on another site nearby. However, there was some wrangling as the magistrates had approved the licence based on the original submitted plans.⁶⁶ I am not sure how the matter was resolved but built it was, the premises beginning to trade in April 1886 when the docks were officially opened. Advertisements for more staff were published in the press during January 1887. In October of that year the licence of the premises was transferred from the brewery representative, holder of the first provisional licence, to Charles E. Leston.⁶⁷ This may be a newspaper typo - see notes for the Canteen Basin.

Rather like the ships that sailed from Tilbury, or that trains arriving from London, the Station Canteen had a first-class and second-class bar.⁶⁸ It was no doubt in the latter where most incidents took place, the sort of things that made the newspapers. For example, in October 1891 Thomas Bailey was charged with assaulting a barman named Thomas Gray. After being served with a glass of ale he spat at the barman before throwing the contents of the glass over him. Perhaps the barrel needed changing but this is an outrageous way to behave. He was very apologetic in court where the magistrates fined him.⁶⁹ In March of the same year William Howlett was charged with being drunk and refusing the quit the Station Canteen, and with assaulting the same barman. The latter, seemingly something of a punch-bag for disgruntled customers, told the magistrates that he refused drink for which, without provocation, he received a black eye from Howlett. The drunken imbiber had to pay a fine and costs.⁷⁰ Another assault at the bar was committed by Patrick Driscoll which cost him a fine. Were they queuing up to have a go at the poor barman? Perhaps he requested a move to the first-class bar where there was a bit of decorum?

Surviving the pounding taken by the dock area during World War 2, the building stood for just over a century and it was with some sadness that one of the early commercial structures of Tilbury was pulled down. One person who worked behind the servery during the war was Alice Jeanette Christopherson, better known to the regular customers as Janie. She lived in Melbourne Road but clocked up 42 years of service at the Station Restaurant before retiring in 1968. By that time she had married Robert Waterson. Most of sailors who called at Tilbury for refreshments knew and loved the barmaid. Indeed, for her retirement there was a large collection which was used to buy her a rocking chair, coffee table, and a pair of slippers. Did they imagine that she would spend her days with her feet up? The brewery presented Janie with the hand-pull that she had operated throughout her long career behind the bar - just the sort of thing to go in her woman cave! There was a presentation at the Station Restaurant for her retirement, the manager being Ron Drake [seen in the above image], during which Janie recounted how the pub never closed during the war and, "as the bombs dropped around, the customers joined in a sing-song." They had another sing-song on the night of her leaving "with Jim and Fred Lilley on the piano and drums, and other guests playing a variety of instruments, singing and dancing until midnight."

The Basin Canteen was not so fortunate during the Second World War and was bombed by the Luftwaffe in 1941, the building, later known as the Basin Tavern, being completely destroyed. And what a building it was ....

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

The licensing arrangements seem to have been unusual at the docks. At the Grays Petty Sessions held in November 1887 the licence of all three premises operated by Truman's were transferred to R. E. Sexton.⁷¹ This was almost certainly the solicitor's manager, Richard Edward Sexton. It would appear that managers were appointed to run the businesses but did not hold the licences. In 1891 Edward George Sexton was running the Basin Canteen. He was the son of Edward and Charlotte Sexton who operated the Whalebone and Brewery at Norwich.⁷² He grew up in that tavern so learned a lot of the trade before serving an apprenticeship in the Merchant Navy, under Shaw, Savill & Co., sailing on the S.S. Zealandia.⁷³ In January 1891 he married Theresa Champness, the couple running the Basin Tavern for the remainder of the Victorian era.

Extract from page 1 of the "Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser" published on Thursday January 16th, 1890.

The Basin Canteen was seemingly a lively place but, by accounts I have found, it was also a more dangerous environment in which to imbibe. However, the most tangible aspect of the building's history is the number of inquests held in the place. Customers must have seen bodies being brought into the Basin Canteen every week. Indeed, the coroner may as well have booked a permanent room to save constant trips to the dock to conduct another enquiry. At least the circumstances were sometimes different for it seems that one could die in every conceivable manner at Tilbury. They could have a erected a giant banner next to the river bank with the phrase "Come and have a pint if you think you're hard enough!"

Of course, the melting pot at Tilbury created the perfect storm for outbreaks of bloodthirstiness. Several thousand people worked in the docks in which sailors from all over the world descended on two licensed canteens where things would often kick off. There was even a death threat to the manager, Edward Sexton, simply because he asked a drunken sailor to leave the premises.⁷⁴ Bodies would be brought into the premises of those who had died in fights or were victims of stabbing. Many people were dragged out of ditches or the Thames, the inquests failing to find the reason for the bodies ending up in such situations. Many a jury returned an open verdict, or simply "Found Drowned."

Aside from violent deaths, there was a long litany of accidents in which people died in awful circumstances. Scroll past this section if you are squeamish. These are just a few of the many cases heard in the Basin Canteen. On July 23rd 1912 there were three inquest in one day.⁷⁷ The accident book for the railway must have filled up quickly in the 19th century. One man, a truck marker named John Hinds, was horribly crushed between two buffers, the poor man not even being spared instantaneous death.⁷⁵

Dock workers faced ever-present danger in the course of their daily routine. A stevedore named William Glibbery was engaged in driving a winch on board the S.S. Anubis when he attempted to regulate the tackle. The next thing was that he was seen being revolved round and round the winch, possibly after being drawn into it by his coat. He fractured his skull and broke both legs, lingering for an hour before dying.⁷⁶ Another stevedore named, Steve Berry, whilst loading cases of steel into a barge, fell into the vessel and died.⁷⁸ Another particularly horrible incident involved John Mallam, a seaman who stepped inside the coiled rope on the deck of S.S. Kingscote, when the vessel moved forward. As the slack rope tightened he got his leg caught and, in what probably seemed a slow motion event, he could not escape and experienced a ghastly end to his life.⁷⁹

In June 1908 a bank holiday cycling jolly wound up being examined at the Basin Canteen when Louisa Roberts, a 22-year-old woman from Rotherhithe, ended her young life at Tilbury Hospital following an accident. She was cycling back to London from Southend-on-Sea with two men, including Sidney Herbert Pledger, when they came upon a traction engine. The men passed the engine safely, but the young woman ran on the bank, and was thrown against the second truck attached to the engine, the wheel of which passed over her right leg and foot. She was first taken to Grays but transferred to the hospital at Tilbury where gangrene set in. Her leg was amputated from the thigh but she subsequently died from blood poisoning.⁸⁰

In January 1903 there was an outbreak of fire at one of the galvanised iron shops adjoining the Basin Canteen. The flames spread rapidly, and though the efforts of the Dock Brigade, under Inspector Hill, they managed to stop the spread of the fire to the Basin Canteen. The three adjoining shops, however, were completely destroyed, as were the sleeping rooms at the rear, occupied he Edward Sexton, the Canteen Manager.⁸¹

Reporting on bomb damage during World War 2 was fairly limited as it would provide information to the enemy. Tilbury Docks were a prime target for the Luftwaffe. It was during one bombing raid in 1941 that the Basin Tavern was destroyed. It was reported in October 1944 that, from the beginning of the war up until February 1941, more than 50,000 bombs of various types were dropped in the Thurrock urban district, including Grays and Tilbury. 88 people were killed in these attacks, 313 injured, and 40 missing [presumed dead] 274 houses had been destroyed, while nearly 13,000 were damaged.⁸²

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

Opposite the Church of Saint John the Baptist on Dock Road there is a cycle path that crosses the railway via a footbridge and connects to Ferry Road. The path passes close to the site of the old steam laundry [see map extract above]. This business must have processed an incredible amount laundry for the ships that berthed at Tilbury. In January 1914 a fire broke out at the laundry that illuminated the country for ten miles around. The Dublin Fusiliers, stationed at Tilbury Fort, rushed to assist the Dock Fire Brigade in tackling the blaze. The drying room and offices were completely destroyed, but the fire was prevented from spreading to adjoining buildings of the laundry. The linen from several ships at the dock was in the laundry, the estimated damage of which was considerable.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

It is a short distance to the old railway station and baggage hall, but it was very disappointing to find the complex fenced off. As can be seen in the above image, the building looked great in its heyday. Designed by Sir Edwin Cooper, architect for the Port of London Authority, the Customs and Baggage Hall was completed in 1924. It was constructed in English bond, red-brown brickwork with rusticated quoining, and dressings of Portland stone. The interior of the hall was set out with initial letters so that passengers could find their belongings at once. It was said that several hundred passengers arriving on a large ocean liner could all be put on their trains within an hour.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

From close to the bus turning circle on Fort Road one can see the landing stage and enjoy a view across the River Thames to Gravesend. It was because of the short distance between the two river banks at this point that a ferry service operated in earlier times, certainly by the late 16th century but probably much earlier.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

During the First World War, a pontoon bridge was built across the river, creating vehicular access from Tilbury to Gravesend. It was quite an undertaking but facilitated the transportation of military equipment to Kent and onwards to the south coast. Tugs were used to remove the centre sections to allow shipping to pass, an operation that could take several hours - or more during choppy waters. Indeed, the bridge may have had limited hours in which it was practical to use given the rising tides of the Thames. The German military no doubt learned of the bridge but if they were unaware of the undertaking it was certainly reported by Gunther Plüschow, the only German prisoner-of-war in World War I to escape from Britain back to his homeland. The aviator, whose escapades make him comparable to Indiana Jones, snuck on board a boat leaving Tilbury docks bound for the Netherlands.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

This post-war photograph shows the railway station and baggage hall, along with the landing stage. I also have marked the site of the Tilbury Hotel in the bottom left of the image. An Act of Parliament of 1922 authorised the Port of London Authority to construct a passenger landing stage, work on which commenced two years later. The company's architect, Sir Edwin Cooper incorporated a floating platform designed to rise and fall with the tide. This facility, designed to make the transition from ocean liners to the railway network easier, was officially opened in 1930 by the then Prime Minister, J. Ramsey MacDonald.

Due to the site being restricted, our position overlooking the landing stage is the closest possible location members of the public can get to the site of the Tilbury Hotel. In the above photograph the officers' dwellings can be seen next to the vacant site of the hotel. These dwellings are plotted on Goad's Insurance Plan published in 1891, an exract of which can be seen below....

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

All the stops were pulled out for the construction of the Tilbury Hotel. This was a flagship building to cater for and accommodate passengers travelling on the ocean liners from the docks of the East and West India Docks Company. When opened in time for the luncheon at the opening ceremony of the docks, it was described as "fitted up and furnished by Messrs. Maple and Co. in the most complete manner. The hotel was constructed by Messrs Perry and Co. of Bow, from the designs of Mr. E. A. Gruning, and will be worked by Messrs. Truman, Hanbury and Buxton and Co., the celebrated brewers, under the arrangement with the Dock Company. The building is lighted thoughout by electric light; the power being supplied by duplicate engines and dynamos fitted up in an engine house at a short distance from the hotel. It may be mentioned that the building is of a modified Jacobean style of architecture. The superstructure is supported on 428 pitch pine piles, averaging about 55 feet in length and 14 inches square, all driven firmly into the gravel bed which here overlies the chalk. The vertical surfaces of the exterior walls are covered with red tiles except on the upper floor, which is of half timber works, the interatices being filled with rough cast." ⁸³

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

One thing's for sure, as a member of the proletariat, if I had been around in the 1880s there was no way I would have been able to venture inside this luxurious hotel. I would have been supping in the Ship Hotel trying to avoid the flying glasses and bagatelle balls. The Tilbury Hotel catered for the affluent travellers joining ships berthed at Tilbury. There was even a hydraulic lift for all their luggage.

Extract from page 16 of the "St. James's Gazette" published on Wednesday April 21st, 1886.

This advertisement in the St. James's Gazette, a publication favoured by the well-heeled, shows that the Tilbury Hotel was not purely for travellers of ocean liners. Patrons could nip along to enjoy the facilities during a day trip from Fenchurch Street. Some may also have sailed along the Thames. The advertisement shows that John Privett was the first manager of the hotel which had "110 bedrooms and every provison for the comfort and accommodation of visitors."

Extract from page 4 of the "Gravesend Journal" published on Saturday March 16th, 1889.

In the spring of April 1886 notice advertisements for the re-opening of the Tilbury Hotel appeared in the newspapers. I am not exactly sure why the place had closed. I can only offer conjecture that it was during the period when, through trading difficulties and debt restructuring, the East and West India Docks Company formed a cooperative agreement with the London & St. Katharine Dock Company. Certainly, the issue of the hotel came up in a meeting in which the financial affairs were discussed. The company had seemingly footed the bill but the brewery were enjoying the profits. Yet, it was the dock company that faced liabilities should it fail. There were also dock strikes during this period. Or perhaps there were other issues. Whatever the reason, John Privett, along with his wife Louisa, took over the management of a temperance hotel in Bloomsbury.⁸⁴

With its reading rooms, billiard room, tennis courts, croquet lawns and gardens, the Tilbury Hotel was not immune from crime and disturbances. In January 1890 Mrs. Smith, the manageress, was a victim of a jewellery crime, the precious items being stolen from her bedroom. The police suspected professional hotel thieves.⁸⁵ In August 1907, in an act more associated with the Basin Canteen, the neck of Charles May was slashed with a razor during a fight in the bar.⁸⁶

In February 1918, at the Kent Assizes, three teenagers, Harold John Wesley Gurr, Frederick George Blogg and Ernest Cecil Adams, were each ordered to be kept in a reformatory for three years for setting fire and destroying the training ship Warspite at Swanscombe on January 20th.⁸⁷ In July of the same year, at the quarterly meeting of the Governors of the Marine Society, it was announced that "the Port of London Authority would lease to the society for three years a sufficient portion of the Tilbury Hotel to accommodate 200 boys who were under training in H.M.S. President, which was lent by the Admiralty when the Warspite was destroyed." ⁸⁸ Subsequently, the drawing room was converted into a classroom for the boys. Looking at advertisements for the hotel during the Edwardian period, it would seem that the tariffs were reduced to realign the hotel in the market. This may have been a result of the hotel being taken over by the Port of London Authority. It was probably not the high class establishment of old, the aim being to draw in more custom from those with a lower budget. The addition of 200 boys in the building must surely have dented its reputation as a high-class Thames resort.

In April 1935, at West Tilbury Parish Church, Professor Albert Sutherland Buckhurst, of the Ministry for Agriculture, married Miss Lilian Wright, manageress of the Tilbury Hotel. It was Professor Buckhurst who, while on a holiday visit to Tilbury, discovered a Colorado Beetle on the landing stage. He immediately notified the Ministry, and the Tilbury Hotel was adopted as headquarters for the fight with the beetle. Mr. Buckhurst stayed at the hotel with other experts, and so met Miss Lilian Wright.⁸⁹

The Tilbury Hotel took a direct hit from an incendiary bomb during an air raid on February 4th, 1944. With one exception all 150 guests and staff in the building escaped.⁹⁰ With the building constructed on piles and comprising of much timber, the building could not be saved by the fire brigade and it was completely destroyed. The one person to lose their life in the bombing raid was Captain W. E. Bridges of the Royal Army Ordnance Corps.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

I took this photograph of the landing stage from the site of World's End Wharf, now the pub car park. There was once a causeway here at the wharf. By the way there is no charge for bicycles should one want to make the river crossing on the ferry which runs every 30 minutes. We had no time for such folly as we were already falling behind our loose schedule. We had lots to see and do before cycling to Southend-on-Sea in time for bed. Besides our immediate concern was the tavern with the enigmatic inn sign.

A road south from West Tilbury across the marshes led to an ancient ferry to Gravesend that, in the 16th century, was under the ownership of the Lord of the Manor of Parrock in Milton-next-Gravesend. Inhabitants of the marshes were few and far between in those times, the land given over to sheep grazing. A larger ferry boat may have transported livestock as there was a market that endured until Victorian times. In the 19th century the market was held just to the north of the World's End pub. The remoteness of the area in the 16th and 17th centuries is the possible reason for such an inn sign. However, as a place offering refreshment to the weary traveller, the original building next to the ferry was called the Suttling House, due to its proximity to Tilbury Fort. In 1631 the Commissioner for Ordnance reported: "No man lodgeth within the Fort but the Master-Gunner, who keepeth a victualling house for fisherfolks near adjoining, a disparagement of His Majesty's Services."

Boat on the Thames in Friedrich Rechlinger's Album Amicorum [c.1600[, Bodleian Library, MS Douce 244, fol. 49r.

Some, indeed many, claim that the tavern, thought to have been known as The Lamb and also The Ferry House, changed the sign after a visit by Samuel Pepys who it is claimed said: "this place is like the end of the world." Compared to the bustle of the City of London, no doubt Tilbury was rather desolate but I am not buying it, largely because there has been, I believe, a misinterpretation of his last diary entry of Monday 31st May, 1669 .... "And thence had another meeting with the Duke of York, at White Hall, on yesterday's work, and made a good advance: and so, being called by my wife, we to the Park, Mary Batelier, and a Dutch gentleman, a friend of hers, being with us. Thence to "The World's End," a drinking-house by the Park; and there merry, and so home late." And so, all across the Internet and in print people have made the connection to this remote tavern on the Thames. However, the clue is in the word Park, a reference probably to Hyde Park near to which was an old tavern and noted house of entertainment called the World's End in the time of the diarist. However, it is true that the old soak and party animal visited Grays Thurrock four years earlier in September 1665 and took a boat from there to Gravesend. But who am I trying to let the truth get in the way of a good story!

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

I am not sure of the exact age of the present World's End. When the building was listed in 1974 it was stated that the weather-boarded house was late 17th or early 18th century, with 19th century additions and alterations. In stark contrast with the immediate surroundings that includes a scaffolding yard, the building looks very neat. This is probably a legacy of a fire in the 1990s which caused considerable damage to the property. Unfortunately for us, the place was not open so we could not venture inside. Mind you, having seen photographs of the interior on other websites I do not think we missed out on a pub jewel. Several refurbishments have done for the old ambience, compounded by a pool table and games machines. Worst of all, the pub does not sell any draught beer. Photographs of the servery do not show any handpulls. For such a tavern this is very poor, verging on disgraceful.

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

This photograph was taken for Charrington's in 1930. You will not be surprised to learn that, like many of the public-houses in the Grays Thurrock area we have visited, this tavern also formed part of the tied-estate of Seabrooke & Sons Ltd.

The aforementioned livestock and agricultural market was taken up by William Creed, landlord of the World's End from the late 1820s until his death in 1847. He was seemingly a larger-than-life character who made a determined bid to create a popular destination pub next to Tilbury Fort.

Extract from page 1 of the "Essex Standard" published on Friday November 16th, 1838.

It would be interesting to know what William Creed thought about the plan to open a floating bridge from the World's End to Gravesend, particularly as, in 1844, he was recorded as the owner of the existing ferry service. It was in March of that year that a fatal accident took place on the river. The Essex Standard reported that the ferry-boat belonging to the publican left the jetty next to the tavern in the charge of two men, named Bailey and Howard, who were carrying two passengers. The sail was made fast, and a sudden squall upset the boat which was some distance from the jetty from where the accident was observed. The boatmen of Gravesend, it was reported, "vied with each other in their efforts to reach the spot, but before any assistance could be afforded Bailey and Howard, who were dressed in fishermens' heavy boots and linen petticoat trousers, were seen to relax their hold of the boat and sink. The passengers were, however, taken up, but in an exhausted state, and conveyed to the Three Daws public-house, at Gravesend." The two men who drowned were inhabitants of Gravesend and married. Bailey's wife was pregnant at the time, and had three children wholly unprovided for.⁹¹

Image meld by author including a drawing of Tilbury Fort by S. Owen, engraved by W. Cooke published in May 1809 by Vernor, Hood & Sharpe, Poultry, & W. Cooke, 2 Clarence Place, Pentonville, with "An explanation of the works of the tunnel under the Thames from Rotherhithe to Wapping," by W. Warrington, published in 1838, and a portrait drawing of Ralph Dodd in the collection of the Scottish National Gallery.

The ferry was under threat of being superseded long before the idea of a floating bridge. In 1798 the engineer Ralph Dodd had drawn up plans and a cost estimate for the construction of a tunnel between Gravesend and Tilbury. His plan for "a cylindrical tunnel, to be constructed entirely with key-stones, was to be 16 feet in the clear, illuminated with lamps, and a steam engine to draw off the drainage water, if any should accumulate." He estimated that the undertaking would cost £15,995 for 900 yards of tunnelling.⁹² The alternative to the 900 yards was a 50-mile journey to cross the river at London Bridge. The plan was warmly received by subscribers to the scheme who spent many hours in London taverns promoting the project. Investors were no doubt totting up the profits to be gained from the tolls, whilst others considered its military benefits during a period when giving the French a good kicking was on the minds of those in power.

No need to apologise for a pun, their use is fun ... the project was not simply a pipe dream by a mad engineer. Sufficient funds were raised, or what was deemed to be sufficient funds, and following the passing of a bill in the House of Lords in July 1799,⁹³ work commenced. Did I mention that, up to this date, nowhere in the world had such a subterranean engineering undertaking been completed successfully? Did you, the reader, notice that Ralph Dodd suggested "a steam engine to draw off the drainage water, if any should accumulate?" And did I highlight the folly of his budget? No matter where a bore hole was dug, it filled with water. The committee, instead of having a re-think, simply ordered a more powerful steam engine to drain the water.⁹⁴ By the spring of 1801 the press started to compare the project with the Euphrates Tunnel of Babylon, reminding readers that the latter was indeed only a legend.⁹⁵ In October 1802, worried investors were starting to think the project was foredoomed to failure when the engine house at Gravesend burned down.⁹⁶ Soldiering on, work re-commenced in December 1802. The new steam engine was cranked up to the max and did achieve some success at keeping the water at bay. However, much to the chagrin of the townsfolk of Gravesend, it started to drain the wells of the town.⁹⁷ It was not long after, with half of the £30,000 subscription expended, that the project was deemed a failure and abandoned.

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

The landlord at the World's End must have chuckled as the threat to the ferry trade did indeed turn into a pipe dream. Assisting his father in the business, John Creed organised a race meeting on the marshes next to the World's End in April 1845, including one event in which a man competed against a horse in a hurdles race. The prospect of such a spectacle drew a very large audience. The ferry boat was packed on repeat crossings. It was reported that "crowds of persons continually embarked from the Kentish ferry for the opposite shore, and so judiciously were the arrangements made on water and land that Mr. J. Creed, proprietor of the World's End Tavern and Ferry, received the deserved approbation of all present." By the way, the horse only just about won by half a yard! ⁹⁸

At this time trade at the World's End was so busy that the family employed seven servants.⁹⁹ Another event to draw a crowd was held in April 1843. An information board close to the sea wall mentions the events after a pigeon shoot held outside, followed by a meal and drinks inside the tavern. I was intrigued to learn more about the violent clash inside the World's End so found the article in the Essex Standard that reported on the events. It was stated that "a quarrel took place at the World's End between some countrymen and a party of soldiers. At one time between 70 and 80 of the latter were in the affray, armed with bayonets, pokers, and other weapons, but the countrymen kept them at bay until the arrival of a strong picquet from the Fort. Several of the countrymen were much hurt, and 11 soldiers were so much injured that it was necessary to send them to the Hospital. During the affray the soldiers procured ladders, and entered the window of an upper room, in which a party were dining who had been shooting in a pigeon match, and one or two of the party were very roughly handled." ¹⁰⁰

The remoteness of the marshes meant that it could be a dangerous place to traverse, particularly as one was likely to run into drunken soldiers from the fort. In August 1845 three soldiers from the 95th Regiment of Foot, James Harding, John Conolly and Felix McKeone, were charged with raping Elizabeth Aldred, wife of James Aldred the village blacksmith in nearby West Tilbury. They had spent the Sunday at the riverside and called into the World's End for refreshments. On their way home when they encountered the soldiers on the marshes. The men had been drinking at the King's Head in West Tilbury and had an air of malevolence. They assaulted the blacksmith with a stick, knocking him senseless. Harding and McKeone then assaulted Elizabeth Aldred. Her husband rallied and attempted to come to her aid but the men brutally attacked him again. Elizabeth Aldred made her way back to West Tilbury in the belief that her husband had been killed. The police went in search of the men who had gone to the World's End trying to board the ferry. They had missed the 9pm tattoo at the Fort and were subsequently arrested. At their trial the judge, Lord Denman, stated that they had been convicted of "an offence of a diabolical character, attended by circumstances most atrocious, and almost unparalleled." He wished that he could sentence them to death but, as the blacksmith survived the assault, he could only sentence them to transportation for life. The soldiers were taken to the gaol at Springfield where they twice attempted to escape.¹⁰¹ They were amongst the 200 men who were transported to Norfolk Island in May 1846, the place reserved for the worst description of convicts.

Extract from page 4 of the "Gravesend Reporter, North Kent and South Essex Advertiser" published on Saturday August 11th, 1866.

Much of the early trade at the World's End Inn came from across the river. However, following the construction of the railway advertisements were pitched towards those venturing to Tilbury from London and other places. James Treadwell made the place more respectable for the straight-laced Victorians wishing to take tea in the gardens or simply enjoy a walk.

The opening of the above-mentioned canteens must have had quite an impact on trade at the World's End Inn. The bankruptcy proceedings of James Spencer Chapman suggests it was a tough gig running the tavern at the turn of the 20th century. In reply to the Official Receiver at the Chelmsford Bankruptcy Court in February 1906, the publican said: "he commenced business at the World's End Inn about 6 years ago, with a capital of £400 which represented his life's savings as a foreman engineer." He remarked that "the causes of his failure were bad trade, house going down, and takings consequently reduced." The Receiver said: "the house is not actually falling down, is it?" to which James Chapman replied: "It soon will be; it is suffering from senile decay and was condemned four years ago." He added that "the establishment of Workmen's Clubs had also reduced his trade," adding that "the house was in a bad locality, and he had to keep a strong man as a "chucker-out" He had been kicked all over the body by rascals." In a further explanation of his situation he told the receiver that "he had paid £800 for the business, which he considered a fair price at the time, but he afterwards found that he had been misled. When the lease of the house was purchased by Messrs. Seabrooke, he had an offer of leaving the house or paying a premium of £150. He agreed to do the latter, and they debited him with a loan of £150, but he received no money." He had become tied to the brewery's products which reduced his profits, remarking that "the "ties" of the tied-house were stronger than those of wedlock," which caused laughter in the court. The Receiver said: "I think they cannot be divorced. I often wonder why they don't charge upon our wives and daughters, as well as everything else." ¹⁰²

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

Before continued along the estuary, I will just mention the storm of January 1881 in which only one of seven yachts moored outside the World's End Inn remained afloat. The back part of the pub was destroyed, an upper storey of two rooms being blown down completely to the ground. So, whatever date the tavern was constructed, some of the building is Victorian.

Column-3

In our bid to stay close to the water, and after cycling along some of the grotty industrial areas, we were looking forward to riding along a greener route towards Coalhouse Fort, a couple of kilometres to the east. But hang on, it is only 300 metres from the pub to the Water Gate of the more famous Tilbury Fort.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

As part of his Device programme, the construction of an earlier fort was ordered by King Henry VIII to assist in the protection of London against attack from France. The authorities nerves were on edge again during the conflict with the Spanish Armada so the fort was improved in the late 16th century. To appreciate the fort it is probably best viewed from the air and thanks to Mervyn Rands a fine view has been made available to all ...

© Mervyn Rands. Reproduced with kind permission under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

This aerial view shows the star-shaped bastioned works with double moats that gave superior fire in defence and maximum difficulty for an enemy to penetrate in the centre of the fortress. In the 1870s earth was mounded up outside some of the bastions to protect the fort against the heavier guns then being deployed. An information board informs the visitor of a mock attack carried out in 1798 when four divisions of men, guns and ammunition wagons landed on the Essex shore under heavy cannon fire to launch an assault on the defence network. Grenadier Guard redcoats stormed the fort and redoubts to the delight of the thousands of spectators. The crowd then probably stormed the World's End which no doubt enjoyed bumper trade.

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

The route to Coalhouse Fort forms part of the Two Forts Way trail, itself a section of the Thames Estuary Path. Leaving Tilbury Fort, the path is smooth-ish tarmac on top of the sea wall. However, although I knew it would be pleasant along the East Tilbury Marshes, I could see the impending power station and sewage works was going to present something of a problem. By the way, I used a Google image for this section and it is dated 2015. When we cycled along here in August 2019 the power station was being slowly dismantled and undergoing demolition. The towers of the B station were demolished a couple of years before our trip.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

The path meanders in a little at the mouth of Bill Meroy Creek. Formerly known as Pincock's Creek, the name was changed in the 18th century to that of a local cattle farmer¹⁰³ who, I assume, worked the land of Marsh Farm. A more romantic etymological explanation published in the Port of London Authority Monthly [110/111] stated "Meroy was a smuggler, and others that he was one whose dead body was found in the Creek." The creek marked the point where tax was payable on coal being transported to London from the northern minefields.¹⁰⁴ There used to be a building on the riverside that acted as the coal factor lookout and signal post. The building was known as the Tilbury Collier Signal Station. It was positioned close to the sea wall on top of a concrete searchlight emplacement from around 1904. The look out collected data of coal loads arriving by shop for delivery to the London wharves. Inevitably, this led to the development of a coal wharf further along the river in order to avoid the tax - hence the name of Coalhouse Point.¹⁰⁴

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Here are the steps over the sea defences near the power station. Although the path is primarily for walkers, the steps do have a ramp or channel for cyclists to wheel their bikes over the obstacle. In theory that is - try pushing a fully-laden touring bike up one of those steep channels. Moreover the channel for bike wheels is too close to the railings of the steps so pannier bags will just not fit in such a tight space. There was nothing for it, I carried our bikes over the obstacle. The sea defences here are vital. It was a breach in the sea wall here through which flood waters inundated Tilbury in 1953. I will discuss the terrible floods later on in this journey.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Once over the steps there is a concrete surface just about wide enough to cycle along. I imagine that not many cyclists, especially those riding fully-laden touring bikes, come along this section. But, feeling a little like pioneers, we were chuffed to sticking to our plan of riding as close to the river as possible.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

We rode underneath the pier on which coal was fed into the power station. Plans for the site to be converted into Tilbury2 Port were advanced by the time of our trip so I imagine some form of pier will still be necessary. Perhaps this old pier will go and, if so, I can add it to our list of "lost buildings and structures" that we saw on our trip before they were subsequently removed from the landscape.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

After the pier and sea wall the route deteriorates to a dirt track but it is perfectly cyclable on road tyres. This continues until the heavy lorry crossing where huge dumper trucks transport landfill from barges arriving at the pontoon and jetty pier. And here was me thinking we would be in greener territory. In fact, the East Tilbury Marshes have been used as London's dumping ground for decades. In places, coastal erosion has resulted in rubbish and other dangerous forms of waste leaking into the River Thames. Anybody dipping their toes into the water along this part of the Essex shore needs their head examining. I felt a little contaminated just by riding past the pontoon and jetty where an endless supply of household waste arrives on barges. London residents have their own Omertà code over the issue in that they see the barges heading downstream but close their eyes to it and dare not mention it to their neighbours. It looked to my untrained eye that the lorries were transporting ash from the demoliton work being done at the power station. Nice.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

After the lorry crossing point things get nice and smooth again with tarmac under the wheels. As we were approaching the East Tilbury Radar Tower we saw a woman with two children rummaging on the water's edge. They can be seen in this photograph scouring the mud and rock on the foreshore. I suspected that they were mudlarking but I stopped just to confirm. They seemed to be having fun but I wondered about their sanity considering the nearby landfill site. Ironically, not long before our cycle trip Lara Maiklem had just published "Mudlarking: Lost and Found on the River Thames" and we were fresh from listening to the audio version on Radio 4, a lovely account of discovering treasure or 'old stuff.' We wished them well and pedalled on.

The radar tower was built in the Second World War. This was top secret stuff at the time so the structure was marked as a water tower on maps. Octagonal in shape, the tower was operated by the Royal Navy. Some form of accommodation was in the lower part of the structure, alongside the power plant and electrical equipment. The upper part of the tower contained the aerial array which I believe was used to detect minefield activity, hence it being staffed by the Royal Navy rather than the Royal Air Force.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Close to the radar tower there is a fork in the track and we turned left and headed to the Engine Room Café of Coalhouse Fort. To be honest we were dying for a cuppa, the bonus being that they also sell huge wodges of cake. I suppose being as he is in the photograph, and for those who have not seen him elsewhere on the website, I ought to introduce you to our duck who is like a blinkin' limpet and demands that we take him everywhere. His name is Lance Bierdrinker, is a total git and disparaging towards everyone and everything. When we took him to Pisa he said that the tower was a pile of shit and demanded to see the idiot who put in the foundations. He demands cake and beer wherever we go and we have been stuck with him for a couple of decades. Feel our pain fellow travellers.

© Image courtesy of thurrock.gov.uk

Piling into the café before looking at the fort is not such a bad tactic. There is a wealth of information dotted around the room so it is a good introduction to the site whilst enjoying a mug of tea. Courtesy of the local government site, I have also included an aerial photograph of the fortification as it provides an excellent visual tour d'horizon of Coalhouse Fort. Built between 1861 and 1874 due to tensions with the French, the fort replaced older defences to the south-east of the parish church. The final phases of construction were supervised by Colonel Charles George Gordon of Gravesend, the old soldier who later died in the siege Khartoum. No sooner had the fort been completed the guns were obsolete. In subseqent years the fort was adapted to support smaller quick-firing guns that were more effective against fast-moving surface and aerial targets.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

With further development of ship design and weapon technology in the late 19th century, a battery of four quick-fire guns were installed to the south of the fort, closer to the river. A battery of six long-range breech-loading 'disappearing' guns were also built to the north of the parish church. This battery was concealed behind a defensive bank which made it almost invisible to enemy ships.

During the First World War Coalhouse Fort operated as an Examination Service Battery. The wooden Victorian warship, HMS Champion, was moored in the river to help check incoming ships. Gunners from the Royal Garrison Artillery were instructed to fire across the bow of any ship that failed to stop for inspection. London Electrical Engineers operated the searchlights and maintained the engines.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

During the Second World War two 5.5 inch naval guns from HMS Hood and Bofors anti-aircraft guns were mounted on the roof, new searchlights were installed and the radar tower constructed. During this conflict the fort's role was to protect the ports and docks of London from raids by cruisers and torpedo boats. It also operated a degaussing station, known as HMS St. Clement. Sensors submerged in the river checked that the magnetic fields of outbound ships were sufficiently neutralised for them to be undetectable by German magnetic mines.

A centrepiece display inside the café is the base on which three Hornsby-Akroyd oil engines were installed, powering dynamos which generated electricity for the fort's searchlights during the First World War. In the 1930s these were replaced by a single Crossley engine which powered the searchlights throughout the Second World War.

Coalhouse Fort was decommissioned in 1949, the buildings later being used as a store for the local shoe factory [more on this enterprise later]. The fort and surrounding land was acquired and developed into a public park by the council, though the fort became derelict. In 1985 the fort was leased to a voluntary preservation group, the Coalhouse Fort Project, and with the help of a grant from the National Lottery, restored the complex. Further funding was secured from Warner Bros. when the film studio used Coalhouse Fort as a location for the opening scenes of "Batman Begins."

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

We finished off our visit to Coalhouse Fort by circumnavigating the site alongside the ditch. This brought us around to Saint Catherine's Church, historically recorded with a 'K,' but formerly dedicated to Saint Margaret. The above photograph shows the stump of the church tower, a part of the building with an interesting story, though some of it may be folklore rather than fact. Somebody somewhere must have stated that the original tower was destroyed during the second Anglo-Dutch war when ships, under the command of Admiral Michiel de Ruyter, raided the shores of England in 1667. This account has been compounded through its inclusion in many articles and books.¹⁰⁵ However, in more recent times some doubt has been raised on the matter largely because ecclesiastical records suggest that the church was rather dilapidated by the 17th century and, as a result, the tower may have simply collapsed. The Dutch fable may be more fanciful but it is preferable to the Walter Mitty within me.

The base of a new tower seen above was the work of the No.2 Company, London Electrical Engineers from the neighbouring Coalhouse Fort. With work commencing in 1917, their plan was to completely rebuild the tower as a memorial to those who had been killed in the First World War. Unfortunately, the work was halted by a combination of the military top brass, local authorities and church administrators, possibly because the proper forms had not been submitted and approved. Whatever the reason, this must have been dented the morale of those engaged in the work. The surviving stump of the tower new houses the vestry.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

East Tilbury is an ancient settlement and, despite parts of the parish church dating back to the 12th century, there was an even older place of worship dedicated to Saint Cidd that stood on ground now under the present water level of the river. Of greater antiquity were the English-Romano hut circles discovered in the mud during 1920 when there was an extraordinary drop in the water level. These were dated to the first or second century. Do not go looking for them; they are apparently lost under a landfill site. A Roman burial place was discovered near the Low Street railway station. Extensive Roman potteries appear to have existed in this district, one kiln being discovered close to the churchyard wall.¹⁰⁶

St. Catherine's Church is constructed in flint and rubble, along with some Roman and medieval brickwork and Reigate dressings. The Nave and North Aisle of the church were constructed in the 12th century. The Chancel dates from the following century but was possibly a rebuild. The church was re-dedicated in the early-mid 1880s. There are some interesting 20th century additions to the interior, including a Catherine Wheel and a tile fish in the floor by the lectern.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Just along the road from the church stands The Ship. I think it took me until East Tilbury to realise just how many times we would encounter this inn sign on the journey. We had already visited several on the way to East Tilbury. The pub served two real ales and is popular for its food offer. There are two bars and restaurant or you can sit outside in the beer garden.

For much of the 19th century the Ship Inn was kept by the Archbold family. In the late 1820s Richard and Mary Archbold were in charge of the house. There was no competition for trade in East Tilbury, though the George and Dragon was a short distance away at Muckingford.

In 1846 an inquest was held at the Ship Inn on the body of Josiah Bisby, a former soldier in the 46th Regiment. Serving for some 12 years, including a spell in Belfast, he was discharged from the army after sustaining a leg injury. At the inquest William Hardy, a sergeant in the 46th Regiment, stated that he had known Josiah Bisby since 1834 and regarded him as "uncommonly odd person, a wild, reckless sort of man." He added that Josiah Bisby had once deserted to join the Queen of Spain's service. He encountered Josiah Bisby a few days earlier when he turned up at Tilbury Fort with a revolver looking to shoot another sergeant in the 46th Regiment, a man with whom he held a long-standing grudge. On being told that he was not at the fort, Bisby remained in the area, acting rather oddly. He drank in The Swan at nearby Horndon-on-the-Hill where the publican, Charles Robinson, noted his odd behaviour. He later assaulted and raped Caroline Brooks of the same village and threatened to kill her if she screamed. The police were alerted Constable Joseph Hammond went to Mucking and East Tilbury in search of the former soldier. He and another constable named Cracknell were tipped off that Josiah Bisby was near the saltings. However, when they spotted him and approached the solider held the revolver to his head and shot himself. He did not die until after he was carried to the Ship Inn where a crowd of 30 patrons had a night they never forgot.¹⁰⁷

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

In this photograph, taken in 1930, one can see the older Ship Inn, another house operated by Seabrooke & Sons Ltd. of Grays., before their acquisition by Charrington's. The old building fronted the lane - I would imagine that the new pub was built behind this tavern whilst it was still trading and then demolished to make room for a car park.

When Coalhouse Fort was being constructed in the 1860s a works was established for the men engaged on the site. Eliza Archbold, publican of the Ship Inn, successfully applied for a licence to sell beer at the works. Perhaps she thought it was better than having a load of construction workers piling into her house.

There were a number of inquests held at the Ship Inn during the Victorian period. These cases dealt with a range of accidents and deaths, some of the unfortunate souls being washed up on the foreshore. Another was held for Sarah Clayton, a local nurse, who fell down the stairs and died from her injuries. There were two separate incidents in which soldiers died after falling from the top of the fort whilst on duty.

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

This photograph shows The Ship around 1957, not too long after the new building was erected. Check out the model of the sailing ship mounted on the arm of the inn sign. The licensee during this period was a local man, Arthur Gladwell. The licensee of The Ship from the First World War almost until World War 2 was James Henry Purser. He had only just retired when he collapsed whilst enjoying a tipple in a pub at Grays.¹⁰⁸

Winding the clock back to the year 1900, I came across a story that is rather unique in that it involves the position of an outside urinal. As these crude facilities were slowly eradicated in the latter years of the 20th century, I rather liked the novelty of pubs that had retained them. These days they are extremely rare. The story of the urinal at the Ship Inn made the local newspaper and it was through this I learned that the pub was once operated by the Writtle Brewery Co. Ltd. It was in July of 1900 that a Mr. Hurst reported that a nuisance existed at the urinal of the Ship Inn. He arranged to meet the manager of the Writtle Brewery, who agreed to do all he could to abate the nuisance. However, following that meeting Mr. Hurst received more complaints as to the indecent use of the place. He wrote to the brewery suggesting that the urinal be moved to the other side of the building. This was rejected by the Writtle Brewery. Dr. Rea Corbet, the Medical Officer for Health, said the urinal was overlooked by the bedroom windows of an adjoining house. The woman living next door complained of the stench, claiming it was awful and had been so for years. The Orsett Rural District Council served a notice to abate the nuisance.¹⁰⁹

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Cycling north-west away from The Ship it was a tadge disappointing to see that many of the old buildings along the main road had disappeared. Opposite Rose Cottage, however, there is an interesting terrace dating from 1837. For those who are so inclined it is possible to trudge through some undergrowth to look at the East Tilbury Battery, otherwise it is around 1.5km to the former Bata shoe factory, now the Bata Heritage Centre. The factory closed in 2005 and fell into some decay but it has been restored as a visitor centre with information on a quite extraordinary story.

The company was founded by the Baťa family in 1894 in what is now the Czech Republic. The firm's rise was meteoric and an innovative business strategy adopted by Tomáš Baťa during the depression after World War One resulted in a massive increase in sales. This led to further factories being opened in other parts of Europe. The clergyman of Tilbury, Reverend William Charles Bown, invited Tomáš Baťa to the village with a view to him opening a factory to alleviate unemployment. Tomáš Baťa went all-in and brought in Czech architects to design a modernist factory and model town. This part of East Tilbury became known as "Bata-ville" where housing was constructed for the workers, along with shopping and leisure amenities.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

In addition to sport facilities and a lido, the company built a cinema for the village largely occupied by the firm's employees. Located on the corner of Gloucester Avenue, the building now serves as a community centre. Opening on October 14th, 1938, with the musical "Stars On Parade," the cinema could seat 400 patrons and wsa open for three nights a week. With the exception of the two Phillips projectors and various fittings, the whole of the work was carried out by the firm's building department. It was built throughout with red brick on a steel frame, and included, in addition to the auditorium, vestibule and operating-box, a large stage, fully equipped with lighting effects, tabs and drop curtains.¹¹⁰

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

Of course, I have simplified the story of Bata at East Tilbury into a couple of paragraphs but it is worth investigating further if you have time on your journey. It is different to places like Port Sunlight but the complex and housing estate is an important part of manufacturing and social history. We wished we had more time here but, before we headed off, we cycled along Bata Avenue and other streets to look at the housing built for those who worked in the shoe factory. We paused at the war memorial erected in honour of the company's employees who died in the Second World War. The large number of people who died was a surprise to us. The Bata Heritage Centre website has details of the individuals who did not return home.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

Continuing along Princess Margaret Road, the George and Dragon appears on the right-hand side, close to a mini-roundabout. If one had rolled along to the tavern during the mid-Edwardian period then the scene would have been the same as the above image. The pair of cottages on the right have survived into the 21st century. The pub, listed simply as the George Inn by the 1901 census enumerator, was demolished in later years. The current building faces Muckingford Road. It was along this road that, according to Cary's New Itinerary of 1828, the London coach to Southend travelled, having called at Grays Thurrock and Chadwell St. Mary. The licensee of the George and Dragon at that time was William Dorrington who appeared in the Alehouse keepers' recognizances. There was a smithy on the junction, opposite the pub, which would be handy for travellers needing attention to horse or vehicle. The late 17th century slightly wonky timber-framed house, complete with an original central chimney stack, still stands opposite the pub, though under scaffolding during our visit.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

Here, we have drifted from East Tilbury into Muckingford and Linford, part of the parish of Mucking. Some records did, however, occasionally list the George and Dragon under East Tilbury. The earlier George and Dragon is thought to have dated from 16th century, though it appears to be a later edifice in this image. Mind you, an older structure could have been encased in brick at a later date.

© National Brewery Heritage Trust under CC BY 4.0 / Cropped from original. DO NOT COPY

This photograph was taken in 1936, two years after the new pub had opened for trading. The licensee at the time was Percy Snook, a former baker and confectioner. He managed the George and Dragon for Charrington's with his wife, Adelaide.

The George and Dragon was at the centre of an extraordinary court case in 1892 when the Brown family were running the house. A young woman named Harriet Hindes, 21 years of age, summoned Robert Brown to "show cause why he should not contribute towards the support of an illegitimate child, of whom it was alleged he was the putative father." From the evidence heard in the court it was disclosed that Harriet Hindes was an inmate of the Orsett Workhouse. At the age of 18 she had married, but her husband disappeared so she left for Mucking in August 1890 where she took up a live-in servant's position at the George and Dragon. Soon after she moved into the house, she claimed that Robert Brown, son of the licensee William Brown, "was unduly intimate with her on the 16th August, in the kitchen." The court was told that the same thing occurred a great many times. She discovered she was pregnant towards the end of the following February. She she told Robert Brown of her condition, when he did not deny that he was the father of the child who was born on November 10th, 1891.

Just before the birth, Robert Brown suddenly left for sea, becoming a trimmer on board the steamship Ormuz, leaving Harriet Hindes in the lurch. She subsequently had to go to the workhouse. This is where things took a greater twist. The Guardians of the Orsett Union Workhouse thought that the father of the child was actually the publican William Brown. They wrote a letter to him stating that if his son came home and denied he was the father then it would be put down to him and that he would lose his licence over the matter. The son, who had returned from sea and placed in the dock, denied ever being unduly intimate with Harriet Hindes who also swore she had not been intimate with the publican. Angered that one of them was committing gross purjury, the Chairman made them swear again on oath. He also questioned why Robert Brown had suddenly gone to sea, having no previous experience of the waves. He then called the publican into the dock who deposed that he gave Harriet Hindes notice to leave in consequence of her "unfortunate condition" and there was "not the slightest truth that he had ever been familiar with her." As there was no was no corroborative evidence on behalf of the servant, the Bench were forced to dismiss the case. However, the court hearing caused rumours to spread around the locality. The Brown's left soon afterwards and were succeeded by the Mott family who kept the George and Dragon until the mid-1920s.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

© Crown Copyright. Reproduced with kind permission of the National Library of Scotland under the Creative Commons Attribution licence.

© Image from author's photographic archive. DO NOT COPY

Continuing on the East Tilbury Road, the route passes Merrie Loots Nursing Home, an intriguingly-named former farmhouse. 100 metres further along the road, on the left, is a row of shops with the butcher's shop of John York, an emporium selling award-winning sausages and homemade pies. The business was established in 1967 but a degree of continuity is manifest in this 1920s photograph as the premises was a butchery back in those days. The name of William Whitlock can be see above the window. Born at Fulham in April 1879, he followed in his father's footsteps by becoming a butcher. They operated a business in Hammersmith.¹¹¹ He and his wife Annie were still running this shop at the outbreak of World War 2.

A little further on stands the Methodist Church, erected in 1900, replacing an old mission hall. Soon after, there is a welcome escape from the traffic by turning right on Walton's Hall Lane. This part of the cycle route sees a transition from the modernity of East Tilbury to a landscape punctuated with historic buildings. Moreover it follows in the footsteps of smuggling intrigue. We were heading towards the creeks which, combined with foggy marshland, made the area ideal for avoiding the customs officers and shifting illegal booty, some of which went direct to the taverns. Only the most stoic of publicans possessing high morals and ethics could resist the temptation of cheaper sources of liquor and tobacco.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

200 metres along Walton's Hall Lane stands Sutton's Farmhouse, a late 16th century timber-framed house. A little further on is Walton's Hall, built in the 17th century but altered in subsequent years. It is not easy to look at these buildings as they are hidden away behind trees and bushes. We turned right onto Mucking Wharf Road and over the railway to the hamlet of Mucking, a microcosm of the UK rural life timeline of the 20th century. We have cycled to some many villages where we see buildings marked The Old Post-Office, The Old Bakery or The Old Police Station, all of which engenders a mourning for the loss of a way of life that will never return. Here in Mucking not only has the shop, school and pub gone, but even the church has gone. Well, strictly speaking, they have not vanished but converted into private residences. One key building that has gone is the old Manor House. The ruinous structure was demolished some years ago.

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

The Church of Saint John the Baptist is now a private residence. We had to peer from the gate as the churchyard is also closed to the public. This makes it rather difficult to appreciate. I bought an old picture postcard of the building so you can see the church here. Although much of the 13th century chancel and nave arcades were retained, most of the church was rebuilt in the mid-19th century. The National School was built in 1855 and located next to the churchyard. The school could accommodate over 50 children but the attendance in the mid-Edwardian period was less than 40. Clearly depopulation of the village nucleus started long ago. The building closed in June 1914, the schoolmistress passing away within a week. Louise Blainey had come to Mucking 17 years earlier, after holding a similar position at Winkleigh in Devon.¹¹²

© Photo taken by author on August 3rd, 2019. DO NOT COPY

160 metres along Mucking Wharf Road stands the former Crown Inn, a building that once also traded as the Crown and Sceptre. The Jaggs family kept the tavern in the early 19th century. In January 1841 Philip Jaggs took a nasty idiot, named John Evans, to court where the evil bastard was indicted for stabbing a mare, belonging to the publican. However, he acquitted and discharged. Two months later, in March 1841, he was again apprehended on a charge of robbery and desertion. It was reported that the police conveyed him to Chatham, and in the course of a month Evans was deprived of the power of doing further mischief in the UK for some time, by being sent out to his regiment in India. And there, if there was any justice in the world, he too would be robbed and bayonetted.¹¹³

There wasn't a soul to be seen in Mucking. The birds on the telephone wires and those hiding in bushes were probably wondering what two Herberts were doing exploring the village that time forgot. Almost a century earlier, a journalist for the Daily Mirror, also venured into deepest Mucking to see what's occurring. In his article entitled "Village Flees From Its Name," he touched on a pattern of migration that would rip the heart out of Britain's rural communities in future generations. Very few, if any, villages are like Ambridge, staging flower and produce shows, or banding together for a Christmas Panto. Most - and we have cycled through a lot of settlements - are soulless ghost villages where all services and community spirit have vanished. The journalist stated that "the most unfortunate village in England is Mucking, which, for centuries, has tried to rise above its unhappy name." He suggested that "some years previously a certain section of the inhabitants living on a higher plane called their little bit of Mucking Muckingford, and have ever since regarded those who grovel in Lower Mucking as persons to be pitied." Later on the Little Muckers, as they were called, began to move up to Muckingford, leaving only a few old people to grace Mucking. As the years passed the number of "Little Old Muckers" grew less and less, and as nobody took up residence in Mucking the village had almost disappeared. He observed that "old houses are crumbling away, and when they disappear nobody builds another. Mucking is dying because of its name, and the native who discovered that it means "much grass" has so far been unable to persuade the authorities and the map-makers to alter it."

The problem was not in the name. Besides, I rather like "Mooking," the sort of appellation that enchants travel writers like Bill Bryson. But once the aforementioned shopping parade was created at Muckingford, along with new housing erected by the council, the school closing and simply the feeling that the action was taking place somewhere else, Mucking spiralled into a generational decline. Actually, the hamlet did have a shop - in the 1840s Edward Coe was recorded as a victualler and shopkeeper.¹¹⁴

Unlike bicycles, horses can be an unpredictable mode of transport. I have ridden a horse myself and, due to my height and reach, was allocated a rather large steed. A bit like a bike-fit but on four legs. Well, six if you count mine! Thankfully it turned out that my horse was a placid, even-tempered animal but, whilst I was onboard, I was thinking that he could do almost anything with me sat on him. I had visions of hanging on for dear life as my steed considered himself a contender for the Grand National and aimed at any high hedgerow that took its fancy. J. W. Eagle, resident of Walton's Hall up the lane, had a rather timid creature in 1889 and it took fright of some sheep and threw him off, breaking his leg and causing several other injures. I mention this because in June 1882 the publican of the Crown Inn, William Brown, also had a horse that was a bag of nerves. He had parked up near what was called the subway leading to the river at Tilbury Fort when his pony suddenly took fright. The animal, still attached to a cart, suddenly bolted down the passage, onto a barge, and into the Thames. A report in the Essex Newsman stated that "several people ran after the animal, but too late to stop its mad career. The pony and cart sank in the water." Amazingly, when the pony came to the surface, it managed to extricate itself from tbe cart, which was not recovered. A bad day at the office for William Brown but at least the pony was saved, though exhausted after the ordeal. By the way, this is the aforementioned William Brown who later kept the George and Dragon at Muckingford.

Extract from page 2 of the "Essex Times" published on Saturday June 29th, 1889.

Oh dear, it looks like we were 130 years too late to benefit from Henry Gill's accommodation for bicyclists. A pity, we could have fancied a glass of Ind Coope beer. The Plaistow-born former stagecoach man must have wondered what he had done by settling in sleepy old Mucking. He kept the Crown Inn with his wife Caroline, the couple doing enough trade to employ a potman.¹¹⁵

Visitors to the hamlet may have noticed the Royal Mail wall box set in the church wall. The monarch on the box is Queen Elizabeth so it was an update on the box installed in August 1888 just before Henry and Caroline Gill moving into the pub. It was stated that the box would greatly facilitate the forwarding of letters from the surrounding farm houses and cottages. A daily free delivery of letters to the Crown Inn was also instituted.¹¹⁶ A farmer may have been heard to say to his wife, "I'm just going to Gill's to see if we have got any mail ... I may be some time." Henry Gill succeeded John Cordall who, in the cold spring of 1891, was visiting a relative at Stanford-le-Hope when the water became frozen in the pipes. He climbed a ladder with a kettle of boiling water to thaw the pipes, when the ladder gave way, and the boiling water poured down his sleeve. The blisters were of such a size that a pint of fluid was taken from them by a doctor.¹¹⁷

MORE ROUTE NOTES TO FOLLOW ....

Column-4

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References
1. White, William [1848] "History, Gazetteer, And Directory Of The County Of Essex" Sheffield : Robert Leader for William White. p.206.
2. 1841 England Census HO 107/1773 Folio 97 : Essex > West Thurrock > District 5a, Page 3.
3. "Parishes : West Thurrock," in A History of the County of Essex. : Volume 8, Edited by W. R. Powell, Beryl A. Board, Nancy Briggs, J. L. Fisher, Vanessa A. Harding, Joan Hasler, Norma Knight, Margaret Parsons [London, 1983] British History Online <https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/essex/vol8/pp57-74.> [accessed January 1st, 2025]
4. "Orsett Petty Session" : Essex Standard; December 14th, 1860. p.2.
5. Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1938 : London > Westminster > Saint Marylebone, 1846 Page 165.
6. 1861 England Census RG 9/1072 Folio 86 : Essex > Upminster > District 5, Page 21.
7. "West Thurrock : Attempt At Suicide" : Chelmsford Chronicle; January 5th, 1877. p.3.
8. "Grays" : Chelmsford Chronicle; December 14th, 1934. p.8.
9. "Licensee Is On A 550-Mile Pub Crawl" : Whitstable Times and Herne Bay Herald; June 13th, 1980. p.15.
10. "Appalling Tragedy In Essex" : Morning Advertiser; August 11th, 1848. p.3.
11. "Awful Murder Of Two Children By Their Mother, At West Thurrock" : Essex Standard; August 11th, 1848. p.2.
12. "Murder Of Two Children By Their Mother" : Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper; March 11th, 1849. p.7.
13. "The Late Mr. Harding" : Barking, East Ham & Ilford Advertiser; January 2nd, 1915. p.2.
14. "Valuable Freehold Estates" : Chelmsford Chronicle; February 18th, 1848. p.3.
15. "1875 Kelly's Directory of Essex" : Kelly & Co. Ltd.; 1895. p.344.
16. Smith, R. M. [ed.] [1978] "Pubs Of Essex" London : Bayard Books.
17. Smith, Graham [2005] "Smuggling In Essex" Newbury : Countryside Books. p.54.
18. "North Ockendon" : Essex Herald; December 19th, 1899. p.7.
19. 1939 England and Wales Register : Essex > Thurrock > District 192/1 Registration District Dclg.
20. "The Burglary At The Shant" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; June 7th, 1894. p.2.
21. "In Days Of Old - Extracts From Our Files" : Chelmsford Chronicle; December 26th, 1924. p.2.
22. "Chelmsford Assizes" : Morning Herald; March 11th, 1825. p.4.
23. "Charge Of Manslaughter" : Chelmsford Chronicle; December 7th, 1838. p.2.
24. "Story Of The Week" : Essex Newsman; April 7th, 1906. p.3.
25. "Parishes : Grays Thurrock," in A History of the County of Essex. : Volume 8, Edited by W. R. Powell, Beryl A. Board, Nancy Briggs, J. L. Fisher, Vanessa A. Harding, Joan Hasler, Norma Knight, Margaret Parsons [London, 1983] British History Online <https://www.british-history.ac.uk/vch/essex/vol8/pp35-56.> [accessed January 6th, 2025]
26. "Loss Of Life At Grays" : Essex Standard; July 10th, 1846. p.2.
27. "Novel Pedestrian Feat" : Essex Weekly News; February 15th, 1867. p.5.
28. "Grays, March 11" : Chelmsford Chronicle; March 18th, 1927. p.3.
29. "Licensing Business" : Chelmsford Chronicle; February 21st, 1930. p.4.
30. "Light Vessel 38 Gull" at National Historic Ships UK <https://www.nationalhistoricships.org.uk/register/139/light-vessel-38-gull.> [accessed January 6th, 2025]
31. "Grays Beach" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; August 25th, 1906. p.3.
32. "Some Model Ships" : The Sphere; May 13th, 1905. p.8.
33. 1881 England Census RG 11/1753 Folio 34 : Essex > Grays Thurrock > District 12, Page 62.
34. Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1938 : Camden > Saint Pancras > Saint Matthew, 1898 Page 31.
35. "Bricklayers' Arms" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; April 7th, 1900. p.2.
36. Church of England Marriages and Banns, 1754-1938 : City of London > Aldermanbury > Saint Mary, 1855 Page 59.
37. 1861 England Census RG 9/1073 Folio 148 : Essex > Grays Thurrock > District 10, Page 53.
38. "Grays [Brewster] Sept.4" : Essex Herald; September 12th, 1885. p.2.
39. "Grays Petty Sessions" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; May 20th, 1886. p.2.
40. "Licensing Business" : Essex Herald; October 9th, 1886. p.2.
41. "Spirit Licence Confirmed" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; October 12h, 1889. p.2.
42. "The Influenza" : Chelmsford Chronicle; May 29th, 1891. p.8.
43. "The Half Moon" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; November 12th, 1891. p.3.
44. "Charge Of Manslaughter" : Chelmsford Chronicle; January 14th, 1910. p.8.
45. "Tragedy Of Overwork" : Chelmsford Chronicle; August 16th, 1929. p.3.
46. "Blackie, Dog Hero, Missing" : Sunday Mirror; June 18th, 1944. p.2.
47. "Pub's Cash Safe With Sinbad" : Daily Mirror; February 27th, 1964. p.6.
48. "Billericay Petty Session" : Essex Herald; July 30th, 1839. p.3.
49. "Committal Of Burglars" : Essex Standard; March 30th, 1849. p.2.
50. "Tragedy Of The Woods Near Grays" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; November 3rd, 1906. p.1.
51. "Preliminary" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; November 5th, 1904. p.3.
52. "Paddy Norman At Little Thurrock" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; December 10th, 1904. p.1.
53. "Little Thurrock" : Chelmsford Chronicle; April 11th, 1879. p.4.
54. "Contracts" : Building News; May 19th, 1871. p.34.
55. "Orsett Petty Session" : Essex Standard; February 14th, 1840. p.2.
56. "Renewal Of Licenses" : Essex Times; September 8th, 1869. p.5.
57. 1921 Census : London > Middlesex > City of London > District 15, Enumeration District 2, Schedule 34.
58. 1939 England and Wales Register : London > City of London > District 15.1.30 Registration District Aabd, Schedule 20.
59. "Too Much Drink" : Chelmsford Chronicle; December 23rd, 1927. p.3.
60. "A Raffle At Tilbury" : Essex Newsman; April 2nd, 1938. p.4.
61. 1939 England and Wales Register : Essex > Thurrock > Registration District 192-1 Enumeration District Dcmg, Schedule 8.
62. "Armed Burglary In Tilbury" : Echo [London]; April 28th, 1899. p.3.
63. "The Burglary At The Tilbury Ship" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; May 6th, 1899. p.2.
64. "The New Tilbury Docks" : Chelmsford Chronicle; July 6th, 1883. p.3.
65. "The Docks Tilbury Docks" : East End News and London Shipping Chronicle; September 11th, 1883. p.3.
66. "The Proposed Station Canteen At The Docks" : Essex Herald; April 21st, 1884. p.6.
67. "Transfers" : Essex Newsman; October 29th, 1887. p.2.
68. "In The Second-Class Bar" : Essex Weekly News; August 30th, 1901. p.2.
69. "Tilbury Docks : Drink" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; October 22nd, 1891. p.7.
70. "Tilbury Docks : Drink" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; April 2nd, 1891. p.2.
71. "Grays Petty Sessions" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; November 10th, 1887. p.2.
72. 1861 England Census RG 12/1379 Folio 155 : Norfolk > Norwich > St. Clement > District 18, Page 10.
73. UK, Apprentices Indentured in Merchant Navy, 1824"1910 : Piece 14: Surnames M-Z [1875-1879].
74. "Refusing To Quit" : Gravesend & Northfleet Standard; December 24th, 1892. p.8.
75. "Fatality" : Northfleet and Swanscombe Standard; October 7th, 1899. p.6.
76. "Fatality At Tilbury Dock" : Essex Newsman; October 11th, 1913. p.2.
77. "Fatalities At Tilbury" : Chelmsford Chronicle; July 26th, 1912. p.2.
78. "Fatality At Tilbury" : Essex Newsman; June 20th, 1908. p.3.
79. "Seaman's Horrible Death" : Northfleet and Swanscombe Standard; February 25th, 1899. p.7.
80. "Fatal Bicycle Accident" : Essex Newsman; June 20th, 1908. p.4.
81. "Fire At Tilbury" : Northfleet and Swanscombe Standard; January 24th, 1903. p.2.
82. "50,000 Bombs On Dock Area" : Essex Newsman; October 31st, 1944. p.1.
83. "Tilbury Docks : The Opening Ceremony" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; April 22nd, 1886. p.3.
84. 1891 England Census RG 12/209 Folio 66 : London > Bloomsbury > Saint George > District 9, Page 18.
85. "Alarming Jewel Robbery At The Tilbury Hotel" : Southend Standard and Essex Weekly Advertiser; January 23rd, 1890. p.2.
86. "Attacked With A Razor" : Lloyd's Weekly Newspaper; August 11th, 1907. p.9.
87. "The Burning Of The Warspite" : Penrith Observer; February 26th, 1918. p.7.
88. "The Warspite Boys" : Faringdon Advertiser and Vale of the White Horse Gazette; July 27th, 1918. p.4.
89. "A Beetle And A Bride" : Essex Newsman; April 27th, 1935. p.4.
90. "Guests Saved In Fire At Famous Thames Hotel" : Sunday Express; March 5th, 1944. p.5.
91. "Melancholy And Fatal Accident" : Essex Standard; March 29th, 1844. p.2.
92. "Intended Tunnel, Or Subterraneous Passage Under The River Thames" : Kentish Gazette; July 13th, 1798. p.4.
93. "Message From The Lords" : Kentish Weekly Post or Canterbury Journal; July 16th, 1799. p.2.
94. "Canterbury Oct. 24." : Kentish Gazette; October 24th, 1800. p.4.
95. "Tunnel Under The Thames" : Star [London]; April 4th, 1801. p.3.
96. "Tunnel Under The Thames" : Evening Mail; October 13th, 1802. p.2.
97. "Tunnel Under The Thames" : General Evening News; February 22nd, 1803. p.1.
98. "Local Sporting" : Kentish Independent; April 26th, 1845. p.4.
99. 1851 England Census HO 107/1773 Folio 195 : Essex > Chadwell > District 1, Page 4.
100. "Tilbury" : Essex Standard; April 21st, 1843. p.2.
101. "Charge Of Rape At West Tilbury" : Chelmsford Chronicle; March 6th, 1846. p.2.
102. "Dagenham Publican's Hard Luck" : Essex Weekly News; February 9th, 1909. p.6.
103. Bingley, Randal [2010] "Behold The Painful Plough" Thurrock Unitary Authority Museum Service. p.320.
104. Cracknell, Basil E. [1968] "Portrait Of London River : The Thames From Teddington To The Sea" London : Robert Hale. p.152.
105. "Tilbury Bombardment : Cannon Ball Discovered" : Chelmsford Chronicle; December 30th, 1921. p.5.
106. "Essex Archæological Society" : Chelmsford Chronicle; May 23rd, 1890. p.5.
107. "The Late Case Of Suicide At East Tilbury" : Chelmsford Chronicle; May 8th, 1846. p.4.
108. "Died In Hotel Bar" : Chelmsford Chronicle; June 2nd, 1939. p.6.
109. "Nuisance At East Tilbury" : Grays & Tilbury Gazette, and Southend Telegraph; July 21st, 1900. p.3.
110. "Bata Shoe Co's Own Kinema" : Kinematograph Weekly; October 20th, 1938. p.19.
111. 1911 Census Piece No.18309 : London > Hammersmith > South Hammersmith > District 3, Enumeration District 18, Schedule 244.
112. "The Late Miss Blainey" : Barking, East Ham & Ilford Advertiser; July 11th, 1914. p.2.
113. "January Session" : Chelmsford Chronicle; March 19th, 1841. p.2.
114. White, William [1848] "History, Gazetteer, And Directory Of The County Of Essex" Sheffield : Robert Leader for William White. p.560.
115. 1891 England Census RG 12/1379 Folio 90 : Essex > Mucking > District 6, Page 6.
116. "Mucking" : Essex Times; August 29th, 1888. p.3.
117. "A Remarkable Experience" : Essex Times; December 2nd, 1891. p.6.

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