Ship Stairs and whitebait

 

I thought this week I ought to get back to the various sets of waterman’s stairs along the riverfront. I’ve been doing them one by one in order and the ones I’m looking at now are all still in the central bit of Greenwich - and I’m very aware that there a lot of people around who know a lot more than I do about the area around Greenwich Pier and Cutty Sark Gardens. I did an article about Garden Stairs a couple of weeks ago – they are the stone steps which go down to the foreshore between the Foot Tunnel entrance and the Pier. Going eastwards the next set of stairs were ‘Ship Stairs’ which have now vanished.

There seems to be no trace of Ship Stairs now, although I believe that some people say that bits of of them still remain. They were taken out of use in the mid-19th century and they were called ‘Ship Stairs’ because they were used, or originated with, one of the many pubs called ‘The Ship’ in the area. Those pubs tend to be associated with a period in the late 19^th century when Greenwich was a focus for posh evening dinners featuring a fish dish called ‘whitebait’. 

Ship Stairs were old waterman’s stairs on the Greenwich waterfront and associated with the fishing fleet which pre-dated the pier.  As with other sets of stairs we find newspaper references to, for instance in 1849, ‘five dredging boats loaded with coals - Ship-stairs, Greenwich’ or, earlier, in 1803 ‘to be sold,  the Maria pleasure yacht ... remarkably good sea boat... apply to John Savage, Ship Stairs, Greenwich, Kent’.

This all began to change in 1830 when a complex Act of Parliament detailed works which the Royal Hospital wanted to undertake to ‘improve’ the Greenwich riverfront. This included “a certain Dock or Landing Place ... the Ship Dock and Ship Stairs .... which will become unnecessary for the Use of the Public when ... Billingsgate Dock, herein after mentioned, shall have been widened and enlarged”.

“Ship stairs” are not marked on the plans of the 1695 Survey of Greenwich and the site appears to be buildings in ‘Tavern Row’,  but they are marked on the 1746 Roque map. It appears that Ship Stairs were named after a pub called ‘The Ship’.  There have been many pubs with that name over the years in Greenwich – and many more named for various individual vessels – ‘Fubbs Yacht’ ... ‘The Spanish Galleon.  ‘The Ship’ however has been the name of various taverns until the last of that name was destroyed in the Second World War - it was a large and rather forbidding building on the site which is now the Cutty Sark dry dock.

It is worth noting that in the late 19^th century there were several Greenwich ‘pubs’ which aimed to attract a well off clientele with money to spend on food and entertainment. The one remaining example is the Trafalgar Tavern built in the 1840s to replace the smaller and more traditional Old George.  The size and pretensions of these establishments reflect Greenwich’s status in the late 19^th and early 20^th as a ‘resort’. 

These riverside ‘taverns’ could cater to the day-tripper trade arriving on the new steam river boats – open to anyone and relatively inexpensive.  Greenwich was not the only riverside town which found a new role as its traditional trades floundered – following a period of seeming ‘quaint’.  There was a similar period more down river in Gravesend, for instance, with Rosherville Gardens.  In Greenwich it was tied to ‘the fad’ for whitebait.  In respect of the whitebait I am indepted to Roger Williams’ ‘Whitebait and the Thames Fisheries’, a small but useful book which everyone should read..

The River was and is a workplace - although clearly and increasingly also a place for leisure activity.  There was an ancient and successful fishing industry on the Thames which was subject to regulation on sizes of nets and catches. There were many upriver fisheries including Hammersmith and Strand on the Green. Down River there were towns on the tideway - Greenwich, Barking, Gravesend – with fishing communities which were often very specialist and fished in the estuary and beyond.  Fishmongers Hall is just off London Bridge and the City’s Billingsgate in the 19^th century was the biggest fish market in the world. But pollution was gradually wiping out upriver fish stocks and many fishermen were gradually moving into the North Sea and would eventually take their homes and businesses to east coast ports like Grimsby.  So was ‘The Ship’ of Ship Stairs a fishing boat?

Gradually although the River was clearly crucially important for trade and international shipping in other respects it was becoming busier for leisure activities than as a workplace.

Down at Dagenham in 1707 a breach in the sea wall had left a huge inland lake – it still partly exists in what was until recently the Ford works.  It became a place for gentlemen anglers and others and Prime Minister Pitt was one of many visitors along with other ‘three bottle men’. They expected a good dinner, featuring of course local fish and thus they discovered ‘whitebait.’   As Dagenham became less fashionable the ‘swells’ went to huge pubs and hotels at Blackwall and then increasingly to Greenwich.

By the late 18th century Greenwich pubs were selling ‘whitebait’ and giving the impression that it could only be eaten there. Greenwich pubs were used to feeding the many traditional day trippers.  I have quoted in previous articles the late 18^th century Rowlinson drawings ‘Landing at Greenwich’ showing crowds disembarking sailing ships and queuing at Greenwich pubs. Dare I say that they are –er – perhaps a bit rough?  As the 19^th century progressed steam ships and the new railway led to a radical redevelopment of the riverside.  The work was largely undertaken by the landowner – the Royal Hospital - and attracted a more respectable and wealthier clientele.  The demise of Ship Stairs was of course just one of those changes.

River regulations for commercial fishermen forbade using nets which caught small ‘fry’ - baby fish. However eminent zoologists discovered a specific species of fish called ‘whitebait’, very small but adults – so that would be alright to catch. But they never quite managed to finally prove this new species. Thames Conservancy could not make rules to stop fish being eaten whatever the species.  Vast hauls of tiny fish were caught to supply these restaurants.

The pubs of late 19^th century Greenwich were huge establishment of which The Ship was just one. They were run by commercial caterers with establishments in central London.  They aimed for a well off clientele who would eat the relatively cheap and easy to prepare whitebait but would also consume other more expensive dishes along with fine wines and spirits.  Roger Williams quotes “You only have to charge the foolish swells high enough and they will be satisfied with anything.

I have no idea how many different buildings had been the “Ship Tavern” over the centuries. In the early 19^th century one building had stood near Ship Stairs at the eastern end of Greenwich Pier. There was said to be next to another pub called the Ship Torbay. It was eventually demolished and rebuilt in 1866 on the site it is now Cutty Sark’s dry dock. By then much of an older Greenwich had already been demolished under the Royal Hospital’s surveyor, architect Joseph Kaye. Streets near the river like Fisher’s Alley were removed in  the 1840s.  Kaye also built the Trafalgar Tavern further to the east.   East of the Trafalgar was the smaller and less pretentious Yacht, which still remains, and beyond that another of the big pubs The Crown and Sceptre. This was a more traditional wooden building and remained like this until its demolition in the 1930s by which time it was the Conservative Club. It was however under the same management as The Ship and also  specialised in grand dinners.

The Trafalgar is the only one of these big establishments remaining and even that has not been used continuously as a pub since then - it had a long break as a working man’s hostel. It does however have plaques which record the ‘Ministerial dinners’ which were such a feature. The ‘tradition’ of Government Ministers to meet and eat whitebait (and much else) had begun in Dagenham when Pitt visited there with political friends and had moved to the Crown and Sceptre under Prime Minister Spencer Percival – who was buried in Charlton following his assassination.  The dinners  continued right the way through until the 1890s. Can we put this in a modern context?? Can we just think about what would happen if today the Prime Minister decided to take the entire cabinet off for a posh dinner with all the trimmings, the fine wines and all the rest of it - and no women. I think it says something quite important about the society of the early in the 19^th century.

They all ate the white bait.  We can buy it frozen now but it doesn’t come from the Thames.    There are no longer any fishermen in Greenwich. The nearest you will find them is right down River at Leigh -  almost in Southend! Pollution through the 20^th century saw the end of most fish s[ecies and it has been hard work to clean it. Many species have returned but not the whitebait – if they efer existed in the first place.

Today there is no pub in Greenwich called The Ship - unless we count the Spanish Galleon which is near enough to the site. There is no local fishing industry either.

Finally – I was surprised when searching for ‘whitebait Greenwich’ to frequently turn up reports of a play ‘Whitebait in Greenwich’.  It was apparently a farce which was put on as part of a programme in the many small theatres in the late 19^th century. It was by John Maddison Morton – a second generation farce writer.  I see that copies of the play are held in various libraries – who in Greenwich will get a copy and put the play on for us all to see?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Enderby Cable gear scheduling

 

At Enderby Wharf the technology to allow international communication was developed from the 1850s – and the new cables were loaded onto ships until there until the late 1970s. Ever since then machinery has stood on the jetty – of great historic interest but with no status. It is not even ‘locally listed’!! We published a note about it here in March 2024.

Last year local technology journalist Alan Burkitt Gray formally proposed to Historic England that it should list the jetty, telecoms cable gantry and winding gear as of architectural significance.  Historic England has said “it would be more appropriate to consider the site for scheduling rather than listing”. Alan says ‘This is amazing – the same level of protection that applies to our best historic monuments, such as Stonehenge and our Norman castles’. See

http://services.historicengland.org.uk/.../GetFiles.aspx...

so see article by The Greenwich Wire blogger https://greenwichwire.co.uk/2025/03/05/greenwich-cable-winding-gear-end Marerby-wharf-scheduled-monument/.   There is a vast amount of detail on the Atlantic Cable web site. https://atlantic-cable.com/CableCos/EnderbysWharf/index.htm.  Updates on the Greenwich Industrial History Facebook Page

 

George Landmann -what he did between Canada and the Greenwich Railway

 

This week I’m coming back to George Landmann, Woolwich born Royal Engineer, who built the early and innovative London and Greenwich Railway.  I had intended to miss out the bits of his life which were not in Greenwich and Woolwich - so there is a big, big gap in my account of his life of over twenty years here. I’m sure that for some of that time he was living in his father’s house at 28 Crooms Hill but it’s very difficult to check up on that. His father died in 1826 and his mother a year later and the house was empty from 1828.

In my last article about George I wrote how as a teenage Lt. In the Royal Engineers he had been sent to Canada.  He came back to England in 1803 and was next posted to Gibraltar and to the war in Spain and Portugal against the French.  All this we can learn about in his four volume autobiography. However this ends halfway through his military service in Spain and so for his life after 1808 we’re left with very, very little information.

As far as his personal life is concerned I can’t resist pointing out that nowhere in his autobiography does he mention his marriage. He had left Canada in late 1802 together with Captain Pilkington – who was later responsible for construction of the Arsenal Canal. I don’t know how long the sea voyage from Canada would take but he says he reported to the Royal Engineers at Portsmouth in May 1803. However family history research shows that he was married in Exeter on 17^th February 1803. 

His bride was 18 year old Harriet Elizabeth Dickinson. She was the daughter of Richard Dickinson an artillery officer who was to die as a General and was, at the time, the longest serving Army officer. He had served in Canada and Woolwich but both he and his daughter have proved very elusive to any further research.   Landmann had two children with her, Louisa and George – and more about them in due course.

Landmann began promoting his ideas for the Greenwich Railway around 1830. So what had he done in the meantime?  He was eventually sent home sick from Spain, and travelled in Portugal, writing a book. He was later appointed to command posts in the Royal Engineers – Gravesend, Durham, Ireland.  He resigned his commission in the mid- 1820s.  Then he went off with William Congreve to promote gas works for the Imperial Continental Gas Association in European cities, returning in 1825. Congreve, of course, had strong Greenwich and Woolwich connections.

In the mid 1820s new companies were constantly being announced – new projects and new ideas. Landmann’s name appears in several as a subscriber, or a director even as ‘consulting engineer’.  One, the Imperial Plate Glass Co., was investigated for fraud – and Landmann seems to have had some sort of central role and chaired meetings where the policies and work being carried out by the company were explained.

I also note that an early notice of the company is signed ‘G Landmann, Jun, Secretary’. I guess this is his son George, by Harriet Dickinson who would have been about 20 and who had been apprenticed as an articled clerk. However in 1827 notices appear that has been appointed as an Ensign in an Artillery Regiment, the 19^th Foot.  In 1832 newspaper notices appear that he had died in Burnley Barracks. There is no indication as to why he should suddenly join the army or why he died at such a young age. There is no explanation.  But George Landmann’s work on the first stages of the Greenwich Railway was in the shadow of his eldest son’s death.

In the early 1820s there were many, many projects – a lot of them were about railways. Railways - in the sense of vehicles running on rails - were not a new concept. A good south London example is the railway which ran from Croydon to the river at Wandsworth and was later extended south to the stone workings of the North Downs. This was the Surrey Iron Railway and the ‘trains’ were horse drawn. The game changer was the Act of 1823 which allowed the use of steam powered locomotives. 1824 was the first year of what became known as ‘railway mania’ and in one month 49 separate companies were formed nationally and several of these were in London. One of them was the Kentish Railway which wanted to connect Woolwich with Ramsgate, but which seems to have been abandoned through its colossal cost.

In Kent only the Canterbury and Whitstable railway line was actually built to be opened in 1830.  Its major promoter was Charles Pearson who had copperas works in Whitstable and Greenwich, and elsewhere.  He actually lived in Greenwich – in Maze Hill.

In late October 1831 several newspapers carried a one line storey. It is in contemplation to apply to parliament for permission to lay down an iron railway from London to Greenwich.”-A month later a more detailed notice had appeared.

NOTICE IS HEREBY GIVEN, THAT Application is to be made to Parliament ... for Roads or Railways, Tram Road .... Wharfs, landing, Places, Bridges & other works ... for of Coaches, Chaises, Wagons, Carts, properly constructed ... and also for Foot Bridges  .... in the parishes of St. Olave and Saint Saviour, in the borough of Southwark and county of Surrey   ... terminating in or near the town of Greenwich, in the parish of Saint Alphege .... in the county of Kent  ... and intended to pass into or through ... Saint Saviour, St. Olave, and St John, in the borough of Southwark .... St. Mary Magdalene Bermondsey ... St. Mary Rotherhithe ... Hatcham, and Camberwell, in the County of Surrey ...  St. Paul's, Deptford in the county of Kent and Surrey, and St. Nicholas. Deptford, in the county of Kent ... and St. Alphege Greenwich ....  It is further intended to charge Tolls Duties on all Carriages and Passengers using the said Railway. Dated this Seventh day of November, 1831. Hutchinson & Imeson, Solicitors, Crown Court, Threadneedle Street.

 So – there we had it, a declaration of intent if nothing else and I assume it was done on the initiative of George Landmann. 

 On 25^th November 1831 a meeting was held between Landmann and a small group of interested parties – in fact the men who were to guide the railway’s construction and future. They were George Walter – the first person Landmann is known to have contacted; Abel Rous Dottin, in whose offices they met; Robert Johnson; Digby Neave; John Twells and A.G.Hutchinson.  I think it might be useful to know a bit more about some of these individuals and I will do that in a future article.

 At this stage it was thought that anyone would be able to operate their vehicle on this railroad following suitable payment. Pedestrians would be able to walk alongside the track on specially constructed ‘boulevards’.  Both these ideas have left remains still visible today nearly 200 years later. One is the ‘inclined plane’ now renamed as ‘the carriage ramp’ and providing spaces for business in ‘Market Yard’ at Deptford Station. Scraps of wall remain from the ‘boulevard’ provided for pedestrians alongside the north side of the line.  In the 1980s I certainly walked alongside the line between Rotherhithe and Deptford although I very much doubt you can do that now.

 Previous plans for railways into Kent had not entered London itself but had begun at Bricklayers Arms, just off the start of the Old Kent Road in Southwark.  However Landmann’s timing for the Greenwich Railway was immaculate; it would start at London Bridge.

 The new London Bridge had been opened, by William IV and Queen Adelaide, with much firing of canons and ringing of church bells, on 1^st August 1831. There was a water procession with the royal barges and thousands of onlookers and – on the Surrey side - a hot air balloon ascended into the sky. The bridge had been designed by John Rennie – and I am sure Landmann must have known Rennie.  It had been built by the City Corporation aided by the Duke of Wellington – and of course Landmann knew the Duke and had worked closely with him in the Peninsula War.  He probably also knew the two younger Rennie brothers who supervised the construction work and  planning his railway just at that moment was a very very clever move.

A lot has been written about the setting up and early days of the Greenwich Railway.  At the moment there is almost a small industry by developers  and local groups in doing up station areas while providing information boards and commemorative plaques. It has also been the subject of essays and booklets by many many people over the past years particularly since the festival at Cannon Street station to mark its 150th anniversary. 

The first book which I’m aware of about the Greenwich railway is ‘ The First Railway in London: Story of the London and Greenwich Railway from 1832 to 1878’. by A.R. Bennet . This was originally written in 1911 and is a useful description of the railway and its history by someone who was old enough to remember the line when the stretch of arches across the marshlands between Rotherhithe and Deptford were deserted and a playground for local children.

The major work on the Greenwich Railway is, of course, Ron Thomas’s 1986 work ’London’s First Railway. The London and Greenwich  It’s an exceptional London railway history despite now being 40 years old. Ron’s immaculate research covers an  enormous amount of material from many major sources. Goodness knows how long it took him! I would also like the thank Ron - although probably 40 years too late -but before he died he sent me an enormous amount of information about Landmann and his work on the railway, some of which was not used in the book.

Boundary Walk 3 - Deptford Bridge to Locks' Mead

 

It’s about time I got back onto the Civic Boundary Walk of 1851.  I think this is the third episode about our Greenwich procession of local dignatories following the Parish Boundary with a walknwhich had started at Garden Stairs, near Greenwich Pier. At first they went along the riverside to Deptford Creek and then turned to walk up the Creek - all the while accompanied by a boatman going alongside  them in the waters of the Thames and then the Creek where the real boundary lay, in the middle of the stream. We left them in the middle of Deptford Bridge where they had just been joined by a lot of local school children and sung the Old Hundreth Psalm.

The next stretch should be on the south side of Deptford Bridge and follow the Ravensbourne on some of its way up to Lewisham. But it was more complicated than that.  We are told in the report that when they had done their walk in previous years ‘it was formerly the practice to pass through the adjoining ,now occupied, Cobbett’s  carpet warehouse’.   They had already been through some of Cobbetts other warehouses and I think I mentioned the firm in the previous episode of this walk. It was a ‘large floor cloth works with furniture and carpet warehouses ... covering more than an acre of ground’ . They were soon to advertise a ‘new material of floor covering .. the kamptulicon  . . introduced into the new reading room of the British Museum.”

I have spent far too long trying to work out exactly where this warehouse was.  It’s down in directories as No.1 Deptford Bridge - and I thought that, like everywhere, one side of the road would have the odd numbers and the other the even numbers. But - oh no - not Deptfford Bridge!  No.1 was on the site alongside the Greenwich side of the Ravensbourne river where there is now  a small bus station and the DLR railway bridge.The numbers then continued across what is now Deal’s Gateway to the corner of Blackheath Road. They then crossed the road and the numbers continued on the north side up to Deptford Church Street where they crossed the road again to continue to the Lewishsam bank of the Ravensbourne where they met No.1. Like in a circle.  This is completely crazy and I’m not surprised I’ve been confused  - is the numbering still like this?

However it appears that the carpet warehouse was on the south side of Deptford Bridge alongside the Ravensbourne. The procession was not able to go through the building because ‘there was no means of egress from there’ and so they had to use adjacent premises - Mr Loft's ground.

Mr.Loft had a florist’s business with a market garden and nursery and a considerable amount of land on the south side of Deptford Bridge and so permission was obtained to pass through a neighbouring house to get to it. The whole procession did not do this small section and the house and Mr Loft's ground were “traversed on foot by Mr. High Constable Reeve, and a few others, while the waterman encircled the spot in his boat “.

It appears Mr.Loft had been to Greenwich Vestry meetings complaining that he was assessed for rates to both St.Paul’s parish in Deptford and also in Greenwich Parish. There was a long standing problem as to exactly which parish his property was in – he said he was paying St.Paul’s and ignoring Greenwich. He also complained about the parish boundary procession and said that in previous years some of his garden had been damaged.

The account of where procession went after it left Deptford Bridge is not particularly clear in the report on the walk - but then the actual boundary and where they went is not particularly clear either.  The Borough boundary between Greenwich and Lewisham today in this area follows the Parish boundary which was extant in 1851, with a few modifications at the southern end.  Once past Deptford Bridge the boundary follows what appears to be eastern branch of the Ravensbourne. The river divided south of Deptford Bridge with a smaller eastern branch which has now totally disappeared under blocks of flats. The Borough boundary still more or less follows this stream which went up the back of some of the houses and buildings in Blackheath Road. It eventually turned and curved south forming the boundary of various sites - including the Penn Engineering works.  It eventually returned to join the mainstream of the Ravensbourne before reaching the Silk Mill and then Lewisham. I am assuming that this is the route which the 1851 procession followed but it is now really hard to imagine how it was with no housing; just open fields and the waterworks.

We could probably guess that Mr Loft's premises and his market garden were roughly on the site which is now Deals Gateway – maybe the area of Broadway Fields. When the procession had passed this point it met the waterman again at what is described as the ‘furthest point of Mr Lofts property’. There had previously been a boundary stone at this point but had been replaced by a cross on the stump of a tree. The procession moved on from there to a path which followed the stream (or a ditch) on its right while the waterman walked up the middle of the water course or used his punt.

Eventually they reached a point where in 1831 there had been a notice which referred to Mr. Bicknell the then Vestry Clerk but that had disappeared by 1851. They continued following the stream (or ditch) till they got to a point where it was crossed by another ditch.  I cannot see anything on the Ordnance Survey map for that date which could be this crossing point and I think that probably illustrates how minor are these streams were.  However at the place where they met there was another ‘Greenwich stone’ and opposite it there had once been a Deptford boundary post but by then it had been moved into the centre of the stream.

By this point they must have been well into the property of the Kent Waterworks and indeed found their way blocked by a newly excavated reservoir. I think this must have been the large settling reservoir which Kent Waterworks built on the site in 1851. The Ordnance Survey map shows the line of the Kent Boundary turning to go across the area where the reservoir was built and then making a right angle turn to the South. The reservoir is not there now and I think it very likely that its site is under the current waterworks buildings, which remain on the east side of the Ravensbourne.

The line of the boundary in the reservoir was followed by the boat which carried some of the Vestry officers and some of the school boys. It followed as nearly as possible the line which in previous years had been walked. They then went to what they describe as ‘the overflow’ which I think is the point at which the stream they’ve been following joins the main line of the Ravensbourne. The report says that they then all got in a boat and travelled down the river until they got to the corner of Lock’s Mead. This was a field of the Lewisham border which in the 20^th century became the site of the Elliott’ Automation factory.

In think the point at which they reached the Ravensbourne must have been at near the end of today’s Bliss Crescent - you can’t get to the river from that road because it is fenced off. This stretch of the boundary is different now from what it was in the 1850s and it does not cross the river but continues along the river side until Elverson Road Station and then turns back towards Blackheath.

The 1851 procession had a much longer stretch of the boundary to cover. They crossed the river ‘having on the right now garden ground, to a  line formerly a Deptford boundary post, thence marked by a ditch, which is now filled up, to a gate or opening into Mr. Sbepherd’s garden’. I do not know who is Mr.Shepherd was and I’m not entirely clear from the report where his garden was.  They then followed a ditch in which ‘is a plantation of water-cress’ to a brick wall, and ’crossed the North Kent Railway’.

Railways going to need an explanation. There are a lot in this area.  The railway they first crossed is not a railway which exists today.  It was the line which once ran from Greenwich Park Station which was on the site which is now the Ibis Hotel. It ran from there to cross under Blackheath Hill - it is understood that the railway tunnel still exists below the road - to a station on the other side of Blackheath Hill. It then continued through the streets and houses and eventually turn down to Ravensbourne somewhere near the point of Elverson Road Station where it crossed the river. It is possible to follow the line of the railway through the extreme southern end of Brookmill Park and there is a hump you can walk up on which was the embankment which the railway ran on. It then crossed what is now Brookmill - people may remember the remains of the railway bridge which were there for many years. It then passed into the Nature Reserve or the other side of Brookmill Road. It is this last section which the boundary will have crossed. The report says that they went to a stone dated 1847.  

The boundary turned slightly south east and continued by crossing the railway again. In fact it crossed a different railway – it crossed at the junction of the railway lines coming out of Lewisham. One line goes up to London Bridge and the other veers round to a higher level to go to Nunhead and Peckham. I am afraid that this is the site of the 1957 rail crash - the third worst rail crash in Britain. So it’s probably a good place to leave the boundary which at that point turned east to begin a long journey back up to Blackheath and on to Charlton and Kidbrook. First note the 1957 ‘temporary’ rail bridge. It is a military ‘trestle’ bridge built in a few days by Royal Engineers with steel from many sources via Greenwich’s Redpath Brown.

 

Landmann in Canada

 

My brief for these articles has been the industrial history of Greenwich and Woolwich.  However this week I thought we could go to Canada - there has after all been quite a bit about Canada and the US in the news and this is about how 230 years ago a Woolwich teenager went to Canada to build a fort using skills he had learnt at home.

Yes, I’m back with George Landmann. I said a couple of weeks ago that I would next do his education at the Royal Military Academy and I intended then to skip the next forty or so years of his life until we got to the Greenwich Railway. But reading his account of Canada I thought it was interesting and strangely relevant to today. So, one day I will come back to his time at the Royal Military Academy.  After he graduated he got a commission in the Royal Engineers and was posted to the West Country. His next posting was to Canada - so off he went.

I expressed some doubt if my last article if all of the stories in his ‘Adventures and Recollections’ are actually true. I have realised that a lot of the stories about heavy drinking, extraordinary people he meets  etc, etc are really just fluff and that we hear very little about what he was actually doing. The British government obviously didn’t send him to Canada for fun and I’m sure that the Royal Engineers hierarchy had a very clear view of what they wanted him to do. However, in ‘Adventures and Recollections’ he tells a very entertaining story of how he crossed the Atlantic, was received in Quebec, met Prince Edward and how he went to New York. I think we don’t take it all too seriously.

On 25^th of April 1798 he was told by Colonel Mann in Quebec that he is to go to the island of Saint Joseph and execute the works necessary for a complete military post - a large block house, a guardhouse, a powder magazine, a provision store, an Indian department store, an Indian Council House, a baking house and a wharf for the use of the shipping. There were no plans or descriptions of the buildings but off he went to St. Joseph’s. He was just 18.

St.Joseph’s Island sits right on the Canadian border on the banks of Lake Huron. The border snakes south down the lake for nearly three hundred and fifty miles until it reaches Detroit  - Detroit? Motown?  No one ever told me it is almost in Canada – and was only handed to the Americans in 1783 and the situation remained unstable.

I have been absolutely riveted reading the history of the Canadian US border, about which I knew nothing. When Landmann was sent to St.Joseph’s it was not long after the American War of Independence. There were many groups of peoples in this part of what became Canada and many of them didn’t like the Americans. The area had first been taken over by the French and was important in the fur trade. By the 1790s it was a British Colony and there were powerful groups of indigenous people. I would very much recommend a Canadian Government report which I’m going to quote and it’s about the whole situation at St Joseph’s when Landmann went there. (Elizabeth Vincent,  Fort St. Joseph: A History. Parks Canada 1978)

For such an isolated spot there was a lot going on St.Joseph’s Island. The fort was to be built following the destruction by the Americans of another one elsewhere.   

First of all George  had to get to St Joseph’s Island which was not easy.  Obviously the country was very wild and undeveloped but people knew what they  were doing and he opted to go to St Joseph’s by canoe. My original thought of this was of a small vessel paddling away up the Ottawa River but in fact it was more like big commercial public transport on which you bought seats. These canoes were commercially owned and because the voyage took well over a week to get from Montreal to Lake Huron they had to carry a lot of supplies and it had a crew of ten. On the route up the River Ottawa there were fifty four places where the canoe could not go. Everybody had to get out, unload all the supplies and the crew had to carry the canoe up past the rapids,  put it back in the water again, reload and off they go.  This obviously takes time but they got there in the end.

When he arrived he met the officers of a small garrison some three or four mile distant from St.  Joseph’s. Having stayed a few days with them he went off to the Island where he found his quarters in a hut which had been built by his predecessor, Lieutenant Lacey, a year earlier. This was about 20 feet square and built of logs. It had no chimney but a space for a fireplace and a hole in the roof. It had one window with oiled paper instead of glass and he had a servant who slept in the same room. When his luggage arrived it contained ‘a small but useful library’. Every morning the first thing he did was ‘cut down trees and chop them up for firewood. Then he had his breakfast and the rest of the time was exclusively devoted to ‘the works’.  Sadly he tells us nothing more – and certainly nothing about ‘the works’.

The land to be used for the fort actually belonged to an indigenous group and purchase of it had not yet gone through.  In 1797 various government officers held a conference with the Indian owners, who were happy to agree to the sale. George records how a Government ship arrived loaded with goods which were to be delivered in payment of the purchase – there were blankets, broad cloth, guns, flints, powder, metals, some jewellery and rum – in all worth £5,000.  A deed had been drawn up in parchment and each of the Chiefs of the various tribes had to execute it with a signature - which was normally that of an animal or a hieroglyphic. Landmann himself also signed the deed. Then there were some refreshments and the Indians provided an entertainment with dances - the Eagle Dance, the Beaver Dance and the War Dance. There were also ’some extraordinary feats requiring great muscular strength’. All of the dancers were in their native costume and ‘painted in the most whimsical manner’.

Landmann says little more about his work and time at St.Joseph’s. He says that he was called back to Quebec but returned briefly some time later.  We have to go to Eizabeth Vincent’s 1978 report to see what happened from official records. For instance he tells the story of how the ship he is on is beset by storms, and the captain is too drunk to function. George says that he – with no maritime experience – takes over command of the ship and saves everyone.   Elizabeth Vincent looked at the ship’s log and – well – no it wasn’t and no he didn’t. 

After Landmann's departure from St.Joseph’s work went on under one of the other officers. Soon many buildings were nearly finished needing only floors and partitions. Landmann had taken a long time to get back to Quebec and as he had not sent sufficient information a decision on the site’s future had to be postponed. The eventual estimate included more fencing and platforms for four six pounder guns – when the guns eventually turned up they were the oldest from another fort and two of them were useless. Twelve artificers arrived ‘with necessary supplies such as rum and bricks’.

Landmann spent the summer of 1799 at St. Joseph Island, again returning to Quebec. Elizabeth Vincent concludes “Landmann's work for the government did not give very great satisfaction ..... he lost a great deal of time and money by sinking part of the wharf in the wrong direction ...... he relied heavily on his overseer, who was seldom sober..... the Commanding Engineer at first planned to keep the young lieutenant at Quebec under his own eye, but decided it might be safe to allow him to remain in Montreal where there could be no danger of his doing anything materially wrong.”  Oh dear!

What happened next? Work on the fort was finished and what was essentially a small village grew up nearby.  Various groups of soldiers came and went but increasingly it was not seen as a strong point but as a place which could reassure the local indigenous groups of British support against the Americans. There was also interest in it as a fur trading base.  The history of the fort in this period is described in great detail in the report.  

In 1812 the United States declared war on Britain.  There were various actions which involved the fort on St.Joseph’s Island and in 1814 an American military party found the fort deserted and destroyed it.  There were various attempts to find a use for what remained or indeed for something new, it all came to nothing.

In 1922  the site  came to the notice of the official ancient monuments organisation, and was cleared and studied.  Today it is a National History Site managed by Parks Canada. Their web site says we can ... explore the ruins ....  feel the war of 1812 which  saw a powerful alliance between the British and the First Nations People ... experience history through heritage demonstrations ... watch for more than 200 species of birds, ... view authentic artifacts from the old fort. https://parks.canada.ca/lhn-nhs/on/stjoseph

Else where on the island is a local history museum. https://stjosephtownship.com/recreation-and-leisure/visiting-st-joseph-island/

And they also tell us how the stories start with ‘a young man named ... George Landmann .. an 18-year-old engineer ..... known for showing respect to all. .... Chief Little Crow of the Saulteaux First Nations adopted Landmann as his brother and gave him his second name of “The Little Spirit.”