Hull through eyes of a Scott
They are today remembered in the name of a famous Hull pub, but their real story is far removed from the bar rooms of years ago. The pub, The Three John Scotts, bears the name of a Hull family, of which three generations were vicars of St Mary’s Church.
The second John Scott became vicar in 1835 and five of his sons were to be part of the group of public schoolboys who founded Hull FC.
Among them was Samuel Cooper Scott, who also entered the church, working in London and Chester.
In 1920, his memories of his early life in Hull, from the 1840s, were published.
Here, we begin a short series based on his writing, which offer a fascinating glance at life in the city more than 170 years ago.
From his nursery window, young Samuel Scott looked out across ships passing through Monument Bridge and saw men working in them as they were unloaded in the Old Dock, which is now the site of Queen’s Gardens.
The air was clear, for there was no smoke to pollute it. Power for factories came from windmills and “their sails always whirling steam round gave great life to the town”.
But then came steam power and the mills were reduced to “tower-like stumps”.
Ships brought cargoes of all kinds, mainly from the Baltic and North Sea ports, trade with Russia was in the hands of local merchants and the fruit trade was said to be of great importance.
He writes: “The arrival of orange schooners was quite a feature. The fruit was carried in fast-sailing clipper schooners, which were beautiful vessels, and the smell of oranges was very refreshing.
“The orange porter was a fine figure of a man dressed in white cotton stockings and shorts. He wore a hard, flat-topped hat, round which ran a band.
“To this was joined a hassock-like cushion, which, resting on his shoulders, enabled him to support a heavy orange box.
“With this on his head he ran up a plank, or rather a succession of planks, to the higher storeys of the warehouses.”
Grain ships took hours to unload, and the job was a tough one, completed without machinery of any kind.
Baskets were lowered into the hold to be filled with grain by men with huge wooden shovels. Hauled aloft, they were emptied into a canvas spout, which carried it into the lighter moored alongside.
The sailors frequently brought birds and animals with them.
Scott remembered seeing baby bears confined in make-shift cages – “very playful and entertaining”.
He went on: “Sometimes a fully grown bear would be brought to be turned into what was said to be ‘bear’s grease’, used in those times to plaster our hair on Sundays into a submission becoming the day.”
Local youngsters were warned not to board ships without a guardian, for sometimes fierce dogs were left in charge.
When whalers returned from the Arctic they brought blubber “which has a loud smell and could be heard several streets away”.
The date was July 2, 1840, and it was a day to be long remembered, for it marked the opening of the Hull to Selby railway.
At that time, the station was on the Humber side of what would become Railway Dock and was little more than a shed with wooden platforms.
Scott recalled: “Every available space was crowded with people ... flags and decorations were on every side.”
When the train appeared it was greeted with “intense excitement and applause” and ran rather slowly, the engine decked with flags and garlands.
By the side of the station was a piece of raised ground made of earth thrown up by the excavation of Humber Dock and called Dock Green.
This was a favourite playground for children and said to be a “great kite-flying place”. Hull Fair was once held there.
In the evenings, trains ran a few miles out of Hull and back again to show people what the new-fangled rail travel was like.
But some older people and younger ones, too, “viewed it with the greatest suspicion and distaste”.
Carriages were said to be like cattle trucks with planks across them for seats.
Early railway carriages on the Hull to Selby line were peculiar, said Scott. He writes: “They were called coaches and the first-class carriages were shaped like the bodies of three stage coaches set upon a platform with wheels.
“The second class were more box-like and very rudely furnished inside while the descent from second to third class was one hardly to be believed.”
He said the third-class passenger was a person to be “discouraged, tortured; indeed, every obstacle must be placed in the way of his travelling third class”.
In later years, the third-class carriage was a long, square box with breast-high sides, above which it was open.
The seats were covered with black and smuts from the engine and passengers often had to stamp out sparks that burned holes in their clothes before reaching the floor.
Scott writes: “There was one door in the middle side of this conveyance – a seat of the knife board order ran down the centre while other seats were at the sides and ends”.
Some passengers raised umbrellas during their journey, others covered their legs and feet with blankets or rugs to protect themselves from the wind and rain”.
Trying to read was almost impossible, but some tried.
Scott recalled: “One of us held the umbrella and the other turned over the leaves of the book.”
In second class, seats had no cushions or padding, no luggage racks or blinds.
Guards wore red coats and sat on a seat at the top end of the carriage. “From this seat, by turning a handle they were able to apply a brake.”
This was soon changed when the speed of the trains was increased and there were tales of guards whose heads “had been broken as the train passed under the bridges”.
The Hull to Selby line track was at first laid on blocks of stone instead of wooden sleepers. But because of vibrations from the trains, wooden sleepers were found to be more suitable.
The Hull station was a “poor brick and wooden structure, narrow and dark”, writes Scott.