My 1986 account of Wapping on the first night of the Blitz, Saturday 7 & Sunday 8 September 1940 to accompany a History of Wapping Trust film based on local memories.
Picture a secluded riverside hamlet.
Since the Saxons settled on the marshy banks of the Thames 1,400 years ago and Waeppa gave Wapping its name, the area has known long periods of isolation.
Wapping only became a built up area after extensive drainage in the sixteenth century. Soon narrow and densely populated streets clustered around fertile fields and along the busy waterfront.
The expansion of Britain’s maritime trade so cluttered the river, offering impoverished locals the chance of an illicit share in the spoils of Empire, that docks were eventually carved out of the land and enclosed by prison-like walls.
The completion of the London Docks in 1805 cut Wapping off from the rest of Stepney. Access could only be gained across a series of bridges that were raised on the high tide to allow ships in and out.
Within the confines of this tiny hamlet a self-sufficient community grew up, sharing far more than a sense of isolation. Everyone’s work was connected in some way with the river or the docks. Trades unionism and socialism were to flourish as Wapping became industrialised.
In the nineteenth century a strong Irish Catholic tradition existed alongside the growth of Anglo-Catholicism. These rival religious affiliations added spice to the powerful social ties of family, poverty and politics, moulding a communal pride that withstood outbreaks of cholera and the impact of two world wars.
Wapping’s strategic importance as the highest up-river docks, and its location on the doorstep of the City and such familiar landmarks as the Tower of London and Tower Bridge made it an inevitable target for Nazi bombers during the Second World War.
At the outbreak of war Stepney Council shifted its offices off the ‘island’ for fear that air raids might cut them off from the rest of the borough.
Sone 5,000 people lived in Wapping then, and at the outbreak of war local firms had been applying to the Council for financial assistance to convert warehouse basements into air-raid shelters.
When several hundred enemy planes appeared above the Thames Estuary on the afternoon of Saturday 7 September 1940, it was clear that they were heading for the docks.
Many adult Wappingites were familiar with the aftermath of bombing from cinema newsreels, but few knew what to expect when they found themselves in the middle of an incendiary raid.
As a precaution against damage to dock access points, all the bridges were raised whenever an air-raid threatened. Now Wapping was completely cut off, and at the mercy of the bombers.
Some headed for the shelters, others who could hid beneath the stairs, or just said their prayers. Soon Wapping was surrounded by a ring of fire as docks and wharves went up in flames. The dock wall in Shadwell Basin was breached, but none of the ships was hit.
St. Peter’s (Anglican) parish magazine records that ‘half an hour after (the daylight raid) ended a number of women and girls were sweeping the Church in a most matter-of-fact manner, and none could have imagined the ordeal that they had been through’.
Fire-watchers reported unexploded incendiaries hanging from the rigging of ships in the river, and the Wapping Auxiliaries fought to put out blazes which could provide beacons for the night raids they knew would follow. Miraculously there were few casualties.
Anglican parishioners on an annual pilgrimage to their founder’s grave in Chislehurst saw the planes heading for London and heard the explosions. They could not get back into Wapping and spent the night in the crypt of a neighbouring church.
That night the bombers were back. The raid lasted for eight hours.
With no road access some people took to the river in barges and headed upstream to Tower Pier. Shipping in the Thames was under attack and, across to the south, the Surrey Docks were alight.
It was as if the river had caught fire.
Among the warehouses hit was one storing rum. Burning sugar from another ran along the cobbled streets. Charred timber and tea turned water from the fire-hoses black, and smoke from the fires was perfumed with the smell of exotic spices.
By the Sunday, when Wapping was put through a nine-hour repeat performance, there was no gas, water or electricity. An Emergency Feeding and Rest Centre was opened in St Peter’s Senior School by Miss Lloyd-Holland, Secretary the Parochial Church Council, serving hot meals prepared in the dock hospital of St. George-in-the-East.
The local papers next week reported the devastation but censorship forbade any details or even the location of the worst hit areas. They did publish the praise of parliamentarians and the aristocracy for the apparently indomitable spirit of East Enders, especially the women.
Some commentators had watched Wapping burn from the safety of Shooters Hill in south east London and Parliament Hill on Hampstead Heath to the north west. Past fears and suspicion of the militant dockland communities was transformed into admiration for the ‘cheerful Cockneys’ on the receiving end of the bombs. A new image had been born.
For several days it was difficult to get in or out of Wapping, and while some people headed for the countryside by lorry or river steamer, most families stayed put. Dockers had a crucial and urgent task to keep food supplies flowing.
The making of the film
Set up by the women of Wapping in 1972 to bring all sections of the community together around campaigns for improved amenities, the Wapping Parents Action Group (WPAG) had helped to establish a number of local projects.
After WPAG organised a series of local history evenings in response to suggestions from elder residents, the History of Wapping Trust (HOW) registered as a charity in 1984.
The HOW Trustees were all locals who had played an active part in local community affairs for many years. Their hope was, and remains, that by sharing their varied backgrounds, old and more recent residents of Wapping could build a new sense of community in a village that was fast losing its identity to the whim of private developers.
The idea of making film about the first weekend of the Blitz suggested itself during a series of evening son ‘Wapping at War’ in 1983.
Many of the survivors still lived in Wapping. Their vivid memories offered an antidote to the newsreel footage and learnéd commentaries that had turned the event into something of a myth. The voices of those who were directly beneath the bombs are seldom heard.
We brought together friends and relatives who were in Wapping that night and invited a young film-maker who now lives in Wapping to record their reminiscences. The Anglican curate at St. Peter’s London Docks at the time was invited to add his recollections.
As a result we assembled a library of video interviews that should provide invaluable source material for other investigations.
‘Ringed by Fire’ is an edited vision of the many hours of memories so generously donated by the interviewees, assembled on an entirely voluntary basis by our production team.
Our thanks, and the thanks of future generations, to all those who helped to put it all together. And to London Weekend Television for providing added incentive.
Thanks for the memories: Mary Barefield (née Raycroft); Eve Collins (née Warner); Madge Darby; Maureen Davies (née Pope); Maggie Driscoll; Emmy Judge (née Dowler); Billy Hunter; Fr, Charles Nixon; Nellie Spelling (née O’Leary)
Production: Mike Nulty (Director & Co-producer); Lesley Barton (Co-producer & camera operator); Carina Simcock (Production Assistant); Patricia Power (Researcher)
Special thanks to: Tower Hamlets Adult Education Institute (Shadwell Centre) & The Island Arts Centre for use of equipment and facilities; Tower Hamlets Arts Committee for financial assistance.
Research sources: Tower Hamlets Central Library; the Port of London Authority; the River Police Museum in Wapping; the Greater London Council Records Office.
The History of Wapping Trust: Janice Brinkman; Madge Darby; Maureen Davies; Mike Jempson (Secretary); Ray Newton; and John Allen from the Isle of Dogs.
Aftermath
One of the great ironies of wartime, and a source of both pride and anger in Wapping, is that greater damage has been done to the community by the closure and speculative redevelopment of the docks than was inflicted by the countless bombs dropped throughout the war.
Most of the riverside warehouse survived the Blitz only to be gutted by a mysterious spate of fires in the 1970s. Many have since been converted into luxury flats and penthouses, way beyond the pockets of those who once sheltered from air raids in their damp vaults.
In the heart old Wapping, the only building in a terrace of family homes to survive the first raid was the now derelict Turks Head pub, on the corner Tench Street and Green Bank.
For almost 15 years it has been at the centre of a bitter tussle between the community and Tower Halest Council.
Community plans to convert it into a meeting place and a local history parlour were turned down in favour of office use by the London Dockland Development Corporation. They bought it at a knock-down price in 1985 but have since shelved their plans.
The Turks Head remains beside the bomb-damaged but beautiful clock tower of the old St John’s Church, a constant reminder of that dreadful weekend forty six years ago.
Footnote.
There are many apocryphal tales about Wapping’s pubs in wartime, including oft-quoted tales of those locked in overnight who emerged much the worse for wear by not from bomb damage. Mog Murphy landlady of the Turk’s Head who played a vital part in the local community, keeping the pub open throughout the war so families could keep in touch with their loved ones. It closed down in the 1950s, and later survived another of dockland’s mysterious fires.
The pub was saved as a community resource by members of the Wapping Parents Action Group and the History of Wapping Trust, and for some years it was a popular local meeting place and cafe.
It has changed hands since the Covid lockdown and now operates as the Bardot Bistro, serving French and English cuisine. https://www.bistrobardot.co.uk/