This article is about industrial history in Greenwich – why it is so important. I am going to try to explain that there is a whole history of unrivalled innovation here. But, which, sadly, we ignore – preferring kings and queens, without knowing about their role in all this – it was because of decisions made by the Tudor monarchs that Greenwich became so important.  This article has been put together really quickly – so, it’s all out of my head and no footnotes.

I don’t knew when the start of all this industry was – the earliest I know is the 12^th century tide mill which turned up on what we call the Lovells site a few years ago.  That is still being researched and dug. Mills worked by the power of the tides tend to be about large scale works – this mill, we suppose, was owned by major landowners,  St.Peter’s Abbey , Ghent.  So, perhaps we had an early medieval industrial village – based round Ballast Quay – milling and fishing.

Fishing – there was a lot of that. In the 19^th century Greenwich fishing fleets were out in the North Sea, catching cod.  When the railways came some of the ship owners went up to Grimsby and helped start a new centre there – but that is running ahead of myself.

Fishing meant boat building – and that was certainly going on along the riverfront.  Historians have some arguments about the scale of it, but maybe by the late Middle Ages big ships were being built in Deptford – and some were for the King.   Henry VIII – we hear a lot about him in Greenwich – but he took the decisions which made our industry so important later.  First of all he encouraged what became the Royal Dockyards at Deptford and at Woolwich (and of course, elsewhere) and we can trace all sorts of threads from that in terms of British Naval Power – but also in terms of all sorts of technologies around ship building, and social outputs like the Co-op and trade unions (the first recorded instance of picketing is at Woolwich Dockyard).

But it wasn’t just ships with Henry VIII – he also encouraged all that fancy armour we see in the Tower today and other bits of military innovation in the Great Barn at Greenwich.  Over the centuries some of that ended up moving down to Woolwich and became the Royal Arsenal  – where they made big, big, big guns  and did major research in what could be the biggest factory complex ever – Woolwich trained engineers went out in the 18^th and 19^th and set up whole industrial complexes with what they had learnt here.

Other bits of Tudor patronage spread from Greenwich to Lewisham to become the Armoury Mill and  in the early 19^th shifted to Enfield to become the Royal  Small Arms factory – and their need for explosives became chemistry and led to the establishment at Waltham Abbey – which leads us on to things like nitro-glycerine, dynamite  and, I  am afraid, The Bomb.  In fact Government sponsored industry spreads all-round the country – and beyond.  All over the place are factories which can trace their origins back to a department moved from Greenwich and Woolwich – it could be drawn out and traced like a great family tree. And the resulting technologies were not just about military power but could be used in fields like medicine

I must go back to the chemistry for a bit – and return to the 17^th century.  After the Restoration various individuals came back from exile on the Continent with all sorts of ideas. One, Nicholas Crispe (he’s buried in Hammersmith) opened a copperas works in Deptford – one of many along the Thames.  (And, by the way, the first known mention of coke manufacture is in 1636 in Deptford).  Among other things copperas was the earliest way of making sulphuric acid – there is a famous 1845 quotation about how important it is to a developed economy.  In time, other chemical entrepreneurs moved to Deptford Creek – there was a Beneke from the family who also produced Felix Mendelssohn and there was wicked Frank Hills – at Deptford they seem to have developed more modern and efficient methods of producing the acid.  Just downstream from them in the 19^th century John Bennett Lawes discovered how to make modern fertilisers – while Frank Hills changed the gas industry, and, in Germany, Mendelssohn’s son founded chemical works which provided the base for their great industrial expansion.

Back to the river and the ships.  A major energy source, of course, was coal – much of it from the north east coal fields.  Forget the romantic days of sail in the river –most of the ships were dirty little colliers doing the round trip from Newcastle and Durham, year in year out and much of it was unloaded in a facility off Charlton.  Coal fed industry’s need for heat and light. But it was also a major source of raw materials (my PhD was about how they used the chemicals recovered from coal).  I have considered writing the history of the industries of the Greenwich Peninsula in terms of coal used as a raw material – all those factories making tar products, even the soap they made was ‘coal tar’.

London River was THE major shipbuilding area in the country up to the late 19^th century but Greenwich was never in the same class for that as surrounding areas – give or take a few late aberrations like Blackadder and the two first ro-ro ferries.  Frank Hills built his battleships on the other side of the river – have you ever thought what it must have been like to look out and see Warrior being built over on Bow Creek???  In Greenwich Woolwich trained engineers worked at Penn’s great marine engine factory on Blackheath Hill – and pushed at the boundaries of design and innovation. Some of them went off to the provinces to open factories making things like bicycles and sewing machines.   Have you any idea of the amount of highly skilled engineering in Greenwich in the 19^th and early 20^th centuries??   Greenwich was also a centre for barge building – prize winning vessels with design criteria pushed by the skilled workers of firms like Pipers.  When the Government began to send battleship orders to the Clyde and Tyne – so Penn’s turned to making cars and lorries, like many others.

So – what has all this got to do with today when it’s all about the internet and stuff like that.  Well – lets go down to Enderby  Wharf.  Contrary to popular belief the Enderby family had their whaling base elsewhere. Their Greenwich works was a rope and canvas factory – and the 1830s they tendered to make some cable which was part of experiment in communication on an early railway.  This became the Electric Telegraph – and as the Enderbys left,  the factory became Glass Elliott, and then Telcon and now it’s Alcatel.   It was under Glass Elliott and, thanks to Brunel’s, Great Eastern, that the underwater cable crossed the Atlantic – and something quite important happened to international finance.  It wasn’t just that – cables went round the world from country to country and by the 1920s the Greenwich works had produced the vast majority of them.   What hadn’t been made here was made by Siemens of Woolwich (who also produced vast numbers of telephones), Johnson and Phillips of Charlton (who also produced vast quantities of large electrical equipment), and a couple of factories in North Woolwich.  Alcatel no longer make the cable itself in Greenwich – they are much too high tech for that – but they will tell you that the underwater cable pushes the signals from your computer round the world a lot faster than the satellites do.

It’s amazing how London gets missed out of all the industrial history books.  I know people who can talk in a similar way about industry in the Lee Valley, in Stratford – and about London’s huge aircraft industry.  We didn’t have aircraft in Greenwich and, although they did make some railway locos in the Arsenal it wasn’t a big thing.  Greenwich was big on the trams though – although I’m afraid it was maintenance and destruction in Charlton.

There is so much I have missed out here – I’ve just tried to pick up the big strands.  There was the first power station supplying electricity over a distance ever – built in Deptford by Ferranti,  and there was a pioneering local authority heat from waste plant in Plumstead.  East Greenwich Gas Works was a very, very late works – but with unbelievably high aspirations and ideas about its perfectibility and it had the biggest gas holders in the world.  The biggest glass works in Europe was in Charlton – alongside a bottle works whose production escalated with the start of the NHS.    Steel magnate Bessemer was on the Peninsula for a while, along with his chum Walton who invented linoleum – his Greenwich works was his third – making patterned lino in a way which is impossible today.   There were the propellers made at Stone’s, including something vast for the Queen Mary.  There were the perforations from Harveys – have you seen the film of how they took the fractionating column to Grangemouth up the A5 in the 1950s??   There were the terrible smelly dog food works – added to by smells from soap and glucose.  Lots and lots more – read the Greenwich Industrial History blog or join Greenwich Industrial History Society (please!)

What I said at the start is that of this article is that Greenwich industry was about research, skills and innovation.   And,  look, isn’t this important to the way we live today and doesn’t it have some elements of romance in it too??

You could see the world from Greenwich Marsh.

Before 1800 most of Greenwich Marsh was let to commercial interests by corporate land owners. It had a management board – their earliest preserved minute books are from the 1630s – who employed a bailiff and staff.

Over on the west bank was a Government owned gunpowder depot, otherwise there was a few huts and barns. And that was it.

However lonely and isolated we might think the area was then – it was very directly in touch with the rest of the world in a way few other places could be. It is surrounded on three sides by the Thames where a constant procession of shops and barges made their way up to London, and down river, going about ever possible sort of business.

Right opposite is Blackwall – where numerous voyages began and ended – and where the Pilgrim Fathers left to kick start America.

Across the river was the Blackwall depot of the East India Company – and anyone standing near the future site of the coaling jetty in 1800 would have seen great East Indianmen – ships at anchor and the tideway.

We need a leap of imagination to understand what they were like – these vast hi tech vessels had gone out to plunder the world, and founded an empire. To the people in the lands to which they had travelled they must have seemed like something from another world and they brought the riches of the world back to the Thames.

All around were shipyards where great warships were built – along with commercial vessels of all sorts, large and small. To the observer from the site of the coaling jetty – Busgby’s Hole – all of it was an everyday site.

This is an extract froma new book called ‘Mr Bugsby and the Coaling Jetty’ by Dr Mary Mills. It is available from East Greenwich Pleasaunce cafe, the Pilot Inn, Greenwich Communication Centre and Greenwich Peninsula Ecology Centre.

In the 1860s the Thames ‘constituted the greatest shipbuilding area in the world’.  There were shipyards all up and down the river. However the Greenwich peninsula stands out being shipyard free until one manufacturer came there with a big idea.

As well as big ships there was always a need for the small craft that kept the whole system running with as many designs as purposes.  But this was someone who wanted to build boats, thousands of them, all the same. Boats had been made up and down the river for millennia – but never ones like this!

The National Company for Boat Building by Machinery had been set up by Nathan Thompson. He came from New York where Nathan had been a marine engineer. He said his system had taken him nineteen years to perfect and had been examined in New York by the United States Navy Department, He showed that it would take one man, working ten hours a day, eleven days and three hours to do it.  Within four years Thompson had come to England.

Thompson was the subject of an article by P. Barry in ‘Dockyard Economy and Naval Power’ who had visited Thompson’s works. He praised Thompson’s machinery as ‘practical  ….expeditious and economical’ but also drew to the manufacture of wooden nutmegs in New England. His English readers may not have known that in America Connecticut is known the ‘Nutmeg State’ and that a wooden nutmeg refers to a native of that state whose intentions are dishonest.

Thompson had a number of backers – chief of them Colonel Sykes, MP, Chairman of the East India Company. He produced a booklet consisting of letters of recommendation for his process which had been obtained following their visits to a demonstration works near Victoria Park in Old Ford, Hackney.  So the Company prospectus included references from an astonishing number of people including the Dukes of Cambridge and Sutherland and to an assortment of shipbuilders and industrialists. Whether any of them ordered any boats from him isn’t known.  The letters are however, like the boats, mainly identical to each other.

The idea was to produce a large number of identical small boats, made by a series of machines.  Thompson claimed that 25,000 new small boats were needed every year in Britain and he thought that he could supply a quarter of these.

Boats made to a system would be useful for all sorts of things.  Space was taken up by boats on the decks of ships – they could carry more if they could be quickly assembled and disassembled. Duplicate parts could be supplied and repairs thus done without any difficulty. Thompson’s boats, it was said, ‘go together like a bedstead’.  Landing craft could be stowed into a single transporter and then put together when time for the invasion arrived. Boats could also be packed up for overland journeys.

His system depended on a series of machines – fourteen in all and all steam driven.  The boats, which had to be all the same, moved through the system from one to another and were built up round a central ‘assembling form’ which, held everything together and in the right place.  It was however calculated that labour costs for each boat made would be less than a quarter than those made by conventional means. The cheapness of boats produced by this method would mean that new boats could be bought by fisherman and others without access to large amounts of capital.  Boats could be made very quickly – within hours of the order.

Once the company had been floated it was decided to set up the permanent factory in Greenwich and the site at Horseshoe Breach was leased from Morden College, Thompson set about making the Breach fit for shipbuilding by building a causeway and putting a boom across the bay itself.  They then faced the river wall with stone.  New buildings on site were to be proper brick built structures by agreement with Morden College.

Unfortunately they went out of business in their first year.

Philip Banbury, writing in the 1970s, pointed out that Thompson did not mention that all the boats had to be the same and that there was little hope of persuading customers to buy so many of a standard type .  Banbury estimated that boats needed on the Thames was ‘perhaps 300 of over a dozen types and sizes’. small boats were usually very specialist and had evolved for a wide range of tasks and conditions. Small local boatbuilders had marginal capital costs whereas Thompson’s machinery required a large investment.

I don’t know what happened to Thompson.  In his report to the US Navy Department he said that he had taken out patents in: the United States, England, France, Russia Belgium, Holland, Sweden, Denmark, Austria, Sardinia, Turkey and Spain.   Perhaps he went off and tried to make his system of boats pay somewhere else.  perhaps somewhere in the world he was successful and perhaps somewhere there is a memorial to him.  Perhaps, if he really was a ‘wooden nutmeg’ some of the capital he raised went with him and who knows what he did and where he went.

Some of the information used in this article came from Mystic Seaport Museum in Connecticut.  They wrote and said they were hurt at my description of the ‘wooden nutmeg’  – he was in fact they said ‘a snake oil merchant’.

A young Mary with her mum at the Great Globe

I have recently been on holiday in Devon and Somerset – and on my blog I have put something about the Jubilee Wall which has been built on Watchet Station and how the stones in it are very similar to the wall which used to stand in Cadet Place in Greenwich, off Banning Street – and how I hope our Planners have arranged to have our wall rebuilt.

I thought I should explain some of the background to the site in Greenwich which was adjacent to the Cadet Place wall. This is the site which is now the big hole downriver of the new housing on Lovell’s Wharf, and which will be the next site to be developed. It is also the site where the ancient tide mill was found recently.

So – when I was seven we went on holiday to Bournemouth. And most of all I remember a visit to the Great Globe at Swanage and I came back to the Globe fifty years later but this time here in Greenwich.

What we now know as the Lovell’s Wharf area had previously been developed in the 1840s by Coles Child, for Morden College. What we now call Lovell’s, he called ‘Greenwich Wharf’ – part of it became known as ‘Granite Wharf’ because in 1852 he leased it to Mowlem, Burt and Freeman.

The original John Mowlem had worked in the Dorset stone quarries and then came to London and founded the famous contracting firm in 1823. He began with paving contracts and a wharf at Paddington. By 1852 he had retired to Swanage and the firm was then managed by his nephew, George Burt. Mowlem and Burt made an extraordinary collection of bits and pieces taken from the London streets and took them back to Swanage where visitors today can follow trails to see them.

Mowlem’s Greenwich wharf was their ‘stone yard’. In the 1860s there are records of their ‘substantial buildings’. By 1869 maps show rails appear going to the river edge, and a slip with ‘mooring posts’ and a crane. ‘Cadet Place’ was called ‘Paddock Place’.

At Durleston Country Park near Swanage they sell a postcard which shows the Great Globe, now on site there, as being built in Greenwich. The Globe was the idea of George Burt who had earlier commissioned a smaller granite globe, now on display in Beaulieu. The Great Globe is made of 15 pieces of Portland stone – held together with granite dowels. It was taken from Greenwich to Durleston sections by sailing boat. Whether the stone originally came from Swanage is not known – but the expense of carting 40 tons of stone between the two must have been considerable.

Cadet Place had this extraordinary wall of what appears to be pieces of random stone, some of in a blocked up gateway. Geologist, Eric Robinson, called it ‘Cyclopean’ and identified the stone as part of Mowlem’s stockpile of stone. Eric says it includes ‘White Portland Stone, some of it dressed with the stone pick, pink and red sandstone – not necessarily as hard as the Coal Measures York Stone – they are joined by ‘Bluestone’ (Diorite).

At either side the blocks sit at unusual angles with an infill of angular pieces of dark bluestone – this dark stone came from Guernsey in the Channel Islands and was much used in kerbs and cobbles’. He says that this miscellany is almost a museum of the sort of stones which made up the stone cartage trade in the English Channel – ‘just add some granite’s. He continues, ‘look at the cobbles and smaller cube setts in the entrance to the yard and you see all of these granitic rocks polished by cart wheels and cars’.

Elsewhere, Eric has provided guides for school children (and adults too) who want to explore the world of stone in Greenwich – and he promised me more information when I spoke to him last week I was not as lucky as a small child. When we visited the Globe at Swanage in 1947 I had no idea what it was – but, gosh, I was impressed!