Ebb & Flow

There is a wealth of literature on our shared river from histories to literature, from the well-known to the quiet specialist but here are a few of the books that give me particular pleasure, along with some random quotes and remarks.

Artist J.H. Herring’s etchings of the Thames Bridges from London to Hampton Court, 1884, make a fine collection of theThames bridges of his day. With a short description on the pages facing his illustrations, he distills the essential details of the construction and history of each bridge with at times wry humour.
In his introduction he reminds readers that it was ” hardly more than a one hundred years ago since London Bridge afforded the only passage from Middlesex to Surrey, a state of inconvenience having lasted for over eight hundred years.” And “a state of inconvenience” it was. At the time of writing he counts nineteen bridges all of which he illustrates in his book.

Replaced during the Second World War, this earlier Waterloo Bridge was opened on June 18th, 1817 on the second anniversary of the Battle of Waterloo. Herring was among its many admirers writing that “Waterloo Bridge, from its lightness, grace, and symmetry of structure, is perhaps the noblest bridge in the world.” Using words such as “noble”, and “celebrated”, he is sincere in his praise of “John Rennie, who designed this great work.”

Sir Walter Armstrong was well known in artistic circles as a critic for a number of English journals, eventually becoming Director of the National Gallery of Ireland in 1892. His two volumes of The Thames from its Rise to the Nore feature work from many leading artists of the day, including David Law; J.A. McN. Whistler; and Arthur Severn.

The old Putney bridge, opened in 1729, described by Armstrong as a “picturesque timber gangway, which called itself a bridge, was at last replaced by a fine new bridge”, designed by Sir Joseph Bazalgette, and opened in 1886.

Marion Wyllie, wife of artist William Wyllie, paints as vivid a word picture of their trip in a barge along the Thames in the book they produced together, as her husband captures on canvass. Her evocation of sounds and smells is particularly strong and she takes readers into a long-past, busy world of trade and movement along the river in such a way that I feel as if I were an extra passenger on their boat. Written when they were moored near Westminster Bridge, this anecdote shows Marion Wyllie as a great story-teller:
Her husband was asleep, and her sons busy talking had evidently heard nothing, she writes, “So I get up without noise and cross the deck, kneeling by the bulwarks and peeping over. The water is in deep shadow under our side, and at first I can see nothing; then I am sure I hear a whisper, and see something dark that I make out to be a boat close to our lee-board.” She wakes her husband who calls out “Hullo! What are you doing there? A very respectful voice answers ‘We are the water-police, sir, on the lookout for some men who have been stealing coal from this tier. I hope you don’t mind us holding on, as this bit of shadow is an advantage to us. Some of us will be here all night: so you will be all right.’ She adds that “with a great sense of security” everyone returned to their cabins.

Sharing M.V. Morton’s exploration of London shortly after the Second World War, I am guided by a grandfatherly figure who has lived through some harsh times and seen many changes. Time travelling to join him one evening on Westminster Bridge over seventy years ago, his words still ring true: “The Thames… Everything begins and ends with that river whose ebb and flood is the pulse of London. I saw its waters below me, dark, oily and swift, and I began to think of its nineteen centuries of history, a long time for men to have lived in the same place […]. To each generation, the Thames, coming freshly from the sea and returning again to the sea, might be said to symbolise life itself.”

A book I’ve treasured since its publication in 1970, Chelsea Reach, as well as examining the ‘Brutal friendship between Whistler and Walter Greaves’, brings to life the Thames of the late nineteenth century and the changes to the waterfront. Walter Greaves’ most famous painting ‘Hammersmith Bridge on Boat Race Day’, was greeted with acclaim when it was first exhibited in 1911 but led to a controversy surrounding the relationship between Whistler and Walter Greaves, sympathetically told by Pocock.
Walter Greaves’ father was a boatbuilder. Pocock describes their work: “They built pulling-boats, and the rakish skiffs that were replacing the tubby wherries of the Thames Watermen. They tended the ceremonial barges of the Corporation of the City of London, which were berthed at Chelsea.” They were also available for transporting goods and passenger by water.
There is much detail about the river, and one example was the fascination of young Watermen with old Battersea Bridge. “When a big tide was on the ebb, the river sluiced dangerously between the narrow spans,” ‘shooting’ the arches became a challenge. A dangerous challenge. Pocock also mentions how “boats and barges often collided with the piers and sprang leaks and foundered or, when a powerful current ran, holed and capsized against the great baulks of the bridge.”

Gustav Milne’s book is the perfect companion for London historians wanting to know how the Thames fared during the Blitz and to learn about the resourcefulness and sheer courage of the Emergency Services who kept London going through the worst of times. Milne describes many episodes, including his discovery of the foresight and planning of London County Council’s Chief Engineer, Sir Thomas Peirson Frank who executed plans to mitigate the effects of flood damage by expected bombing. His contribution to the defence of London, because secret, had remained largely unrecognised and revealed only to his family by Milne in 2013. A plaque in Victoria Tower Gardens, unveiled in 2014 pays tribute to Sir Thomas Peirson Frank with the words “Saved London from drowning during the Blitz”. And Milne reveals how this quiet, modest engineer really did save London from drowning.

Rachel Lichtenstein is, in the same way as Marion Wyllie, one of those engaging authors who take you on a journey with them. As Lichtenstein shares her explorations, meets people with generations of boat-handling skills and understanding of this lesser known environment, her vivid descriptions bring her concerns and the enthusiasm of her discoveries into high relief. I am unlikely to explore the Thames Estuary in the way that she has managed to do but I feel her writing has taken me some of the way there.

I was wandering round Waterstones in Victoria Street looking for books on the Thames when I discovered Ben Aaronovitch’s Rivers of London. Rivers and streams I’d seen, or heard of suddenly acquired a new and fantastical dimension – each with their river god or goddess. Forget Father Thames, he has moved his HQ beyond the tidal reaches, instead welcome Mama Thames who has installed herself riverside at Wapping. Aaronovitch’s fantasy cleverly intermingles current police procedures and gently satirical comments on life, particularly architecture, which draw you into his world. In his Rivers of London novels, described by others as “Harry Potter meets the Met”, heroes Peter Grant and Thomas Nightingale wrestle with dark influencers and powers, helped and sometimes hindered by a cast of beings from a world known only to those trained and equipped to investigate the supernatural. The Rivers of London series always cheers me and gives me an extra dimension while reading books on London’s lost and hidden rivers.

****************************