What’s It Like To Swim Across The Humber?

Plunging pelagic pensioner Julian Wild recounts to our outdoor swimming correspondent Angus Young the joys and perils of an estuarine dip.

Julian Wild, wild swimming the Humber. (Pic by Eleanor Wild)

It’s big, brown and not exactly the first place that springs to mind if you fancy a paddle. But that didn’t stop Julian Wild doing what few people have managed to do – swim across the Humber estuary.

We asked the intrepid long-distance swimmer why he decided to take the plunge. “Every time I drive across the Humber Bridge, I have the annoying habit of saying to my passenger: ‘Do you know that I’ve swam across there?” My family always heave a long sigh, but it was one of the best things I have done in my life and I am proud to have completed it.

“This adventure started with my normal early morning swim at Albert Avenue Baths in Hull in 2013 when I was 60 years old. I had only been swimming regularly for about 10 years and had taught myself to swim freestyle. One day a fellow swimmer told me how he had swum the Humber the year before with well-known local physiotherapist and health club owner, Keith Warner. I was at the stage of entering for longer distance swims and swimming the Humber seemed like a great challenge.

“I contacted Keith and he agreed to include me in his next charity swim in support of the Humber Rescue on condition that I got to the required level of fitness so that I could keep up with the other eleven swimmers. He insisted that we train at Total Fitness and then in the North Sea at Mappleton, where the waves are almost as dangerous as the unexploded ordnance on the beach.

“Finally, the day came at the end of June when we congregated on the north bank of the Humber by the Humber Rescue station beneath the tower of the Humber Bridge. The River Humber is said to be the second most dangerous navigable waterway after the Orinoco. The current is so strong that anyone venturing into the river could be swept away to the North Sea. It is also a sludgy brown colour, not the clear blue water of a tropical sea. It was made clear that if any of us could not keep up with the others we would be taken out of the water by the accompanying Humber Rescue. I was the second oldest swimmer, so this warning was probably aimed at me.

“We were taken by one of the Humber Rescue lifeboats across to the Lincolnshire side of the river, close to the Waters’ Edge Country Park. The plan was to set off and swim with the current back up the river towards North Ferriby and then to tread water until the tide turned in our favour. The conditions were reasonably calm but it was still a test to do the crawl with your face in thick brown water where you could not see a thing.

“We had to swim almost as far as the riverside walkway at North Ferriby, gradually easing our way across until the current was with us and allowed us to swim more easily back to our assembly point underneath the bridge. In total we swam 4.2 miles in a time of one hour 48 minutes.

“Getting out of the river onto sharp rocks at Hessle with legs like jelly was the hardest part of the journey, but we all managed it and it made for a very memorable day, witnessed by friends and family. My wife and youngest son managed to get a place in one of the Humber Rescue boats, so they would have been close at hand if it had not ended well.

“Inspired by the Humber swim, I went on to complete most of the long distance swims in the UK and to do the world’s oldest swim from Europe to Asia across the Dardanelles. I am pleased to say that, at 72, I am still swimming every day but my marathon swims are over. Nevertheless, swimming the Humber will live long in the memory.”

Angus Young

Who Laid Siege To Hull In 1392?

With a hosepipe ban just announced, our medieval blockade correspondent Angus Young outlines how water supply has always been problematic.

The Romans, Vikings and Normans largely steered clear of invading Hull, largely because the place didn’t exist at the time. But by 1392 Kingston upon Hull was both an established town and borough with its own set of Royal charters. The year marked the first ever siege of Hull but those taking up arms against the town weren’t from abroad or even marauding Scots. Instead, they hailed from just up the road.

Hull’s Royal first charter granted by King Edward in 1299 created a system of local governance as well as providing the right to hold a twice-weekly market and an annual 30-day fair. Others followed, giving more powers and rights and the 1382 charter granted by King Richard II paved the way for a new era of prosperity by handing control of the River Hull’s Old Harbour to the Mayor and Burgesses. However, the town’s expansion led to an increasing demand for fresh water which was in short supply.

Surrounded by salty marshland, early medieval Hull’s thirst was usually satisfied by beer or wine with drinking water being shipped across the Humber in barrels after being extracted from springs in Lincolnshire. This was because control of natural springs to the west of the town rested with parishes who resisted repeated attempts by Hull’s leaders to take them over.

‘The West Hull Villages Have Entered The Game.’

Hostilities between the two sides reached a peak in 1392 when around 1,000 armed men from parishes in Anlaby, Cottingham and Wolfreton banded together and laid siege to Hull, threatening to burn it to the ground. They were angry about the digging of a number of dykes to bring fresh water to Hull which they claimed had not only damaged their farmland but also deprived them of water.

A history of Hull written by Thomas Gent in 1735 features what is believed to be the first account of what happened next. (Warning: the following contains descriptions of  violence, execution and, er, poetry.)

“In the SpringTime, near a thousand Persons, belonging to Cottingham, Wolfreton, Anlaby and other neighbouring Towns, being offended, that the inhabitants of Hull, had, by cutting the Earth, drawn some fresh Water from them; they bound themselves, with a terrible Oath, to stand by one another whilst they were able to shed their last Drops of Blood. Then, having ordain’d the most rustical Leaders, they appear’d in the Sort of Arms, ransacking Houses, and abusing such Owners, who would not as madly confederate with them.

“Soon did they lay Siege to Hull, vowing the utter Destruction of it. Being strangely poetically given too, they made such insipid Rhimes, to encourage the Seditious, as indeed would dishonour the Flights of Antiquity, should such ridiculous Stuff be publicly set forth.

“The Canals, which had been made at vast Expense, quickly fill’d up, almost as they had been before. But tho’ by these Means they had spitefully deprived the Town of fresh flowing Streams, and stopt Provisions that were sent to the valiant Inhabitants; yet these ill-advised Wretches found themselves too much much deluded, and withal too impotent, to prevail against them.

“Upon which, withdrawing to Cottingham; and afterwards, through Fear, dispersing; some fled quite away; others, taken, and sent to York, were executed; and about 30 obtained Pardon, upon their Penitence, and faithful Promise, never to attempt the like again.”

Despite those promises, trouble rumbled on. Subsequent dyke-digging led to attacks on men carrying out the work and acts of sabotage, including carcasses of dead animals being dumped in the water to pollute it.

The cross-border hostilities finally came to an end in 1413 thanks to the unlikely intervention of Pope Gregory XII who issued a letter urging the East Riding side to give up their campaign for their own spiritual well-being. The Pope’s letter seemed to do the trick and later Royal charters for Hull allowed the town to extend its boundaries to take in the whole of Haltemprice and acquire legal rights to its abundant natural springs.

The ‘water wars’ were over and before long a new channel was constructed to bring fresh water from Anlaby’s springs all the way to the town centre. The channel was originally known as Derringham Dyke and followed a route which now includes Spring Bank West, Spring Bank and Prospect Street.

Angus Young

Did Suffragettes Protest In Hull?

The amazing cop-evading capers of the early feminists are recounted by our social liberation correspondent Angus Young.

Confronted by two policemen, Charlotte Marsh gathered up her skirt and leapt from an elevated quayside walkway onto a railway track below. Thus began the first of two suffragette protests in Hull during the summer of 1909.

With her target in sight, she ran towards cabinet member and Postmaster General Sydney Buxton. Before she could reach him, her path was blocked by a coal truck. As she climbed back onto the upper deck she was met by the two officers who circled her as a crowd gathered. “By what right do you stop me?” she shouted.

“You are not going to interrupt the proceedings,” the senior officer replied.

“I don’t want to,” said Charlotte. “This is a public place and I have a right to be here.”

“Never mind your rights, you are not going to get near Mr Buxton.”

“I don’t want to get near him. I only want votes for women!”

Charlotte was then escorted to a railway office on Hull’s Riverside Quay where she was held until the VIP party had left Albert Dock. Released without charge, she shook the officers’ hand, said she bore no grudge against the police and suggested their paths were likely to cross again later in the day The regional organiser of the Women’s Social and Political Union kept her promise.

Buxton’s next engagement on his visit to Hull was to officially open the new Head Post Office in Lowgate. Charlotte had already laid the groundwork by staging a series of open-air meetings in Hull ahead of the visit. Addressing crowds of up to 700 people, she spoke for over an hour from a horse-drawn wagonette alongside three other suffragettes. Undaunted by her earlier arrest, Charlotte resumed her pursuit of Buxton as he left the Royal Station Hotel by jumping onto the footplate of the car taking him to the opening ceremony. Again a crowd swarmed around as she clung on before being dragged off the vehicle by the police. In the melee that followed, she broke free and ran after the car only to be swallowed up by the crowd. Charlotte then jumped onto a tram which took her straight to Lowgate where Buxton’s entourage was arriving.

Mounted police were stationed around the building with orders to keep a watch for female protestors but as Buxton approached the main entrance Charlotte ran forward and got within a few feet before being seized by a couple of constables. The ensuing struggle was met by a mix of jeers and sympathetic applause from the crowd before Charlotte was once more placed into police custody. Even so, Buxton’s speech on the steps of the building declaring it officially open was interrupted by cries of ‘Votes for Women’ from a suffragette colleague, Ada Flatman.

Later released once more without charge, her pursuit of Buxton was not quite over. The opening ceremony was followed by a banquet back to the hotel. As guests were served turtle soup complete with specially-engraved turtle shells to commemorate the event, Charlotte and Ada staged  another well-attended meeting outside before attempting to gain entry. Police officers refused them admission, stating that instructions had been given not to let any woman into the hotel.

Next morning the pair again followed Buxton as his visit to the city continued with police detectives now attempting to track their every move. As the politician finally headed back to Paragon Station to catch his train, the two women hailed a horse-drawn cab only for one of the detectives to jump onboard next to the driver as he set off towards the station. Charlotte and Ada immediately leapt from the moving cab and flagged down another.

A chase – described in one newspaper report as an “exciting run” – then took place through the city centre with the suffragettes arriving at the station ahead of a presumably embarrassed chief constable, several inspectors and constables. However, officers already posted at the station refused to allow them onto the platform where Buxton’s train was waiting to depart. Despite being turned away, a large crowd of spectators cheered them as they once again took up the cry ‘Votes for Women’.

The following month Charlotte was back in Hull and this time, along with eight other women, she ended up in court. The trigger was another ministerial visit, this time by Chancellor Herbert Samuel who was due to speak at a public meeting in the Assembly Rooms, now better known as Hull New Theatre. Charlotte organised a meeting outside the venue and arranged for activists from across the country to attend and speak. When her colleagues arrived in Albion Street on the back of a horse-drawn wagon, mounted police officers stopped them from going any further. As the women jumped off the wagon and joined the crowd, the officers rode onto the pavement where people were standing and mayhem briefly erupted. Easily identifiable because of their suffragette colours, the women were all arrested and as the crowd shouted “Cowards!” at the police.

In court the next day, Charlotte claimed she alone was responsible for the crowd gathering. The others all denied the same charge of provoking a breach of the peace. They all said the disorder only started once the police rode their horses onto the pavement and into the crowd. The Stipendiary Magistrate found all nine women guilty but discharged them without passing a sentence. He told them: “I am not going to gratify any wish which any of you might have to make martyrs of yourselves by undergoing imprisonment for your cause. This is the first case of the suffragette movement in Hull, so I shall discharge you all. If this sort of thing is repeated by any of you, I will give you something more to your liking.”

Charlotte later became one of the suffragettes to be forcibly fed during a hunger strike protest in prison in 1911. During the First World War she worked as a mechanic and chauffeur for Prime Minister David Lloyd George. After the war, the vote was given to women over 30 who met certain property qualifications.  In 1928 all women were given the right to vote at the age of 21.

Angus Young

  • There are no known photographs of Charlotte’s adventures in Hull but an artist’s sketch of her arrest outside the Head Post Office was printed in a local newspaper. The original image is relatively crude because of the block engraving process used at the time so we asked Hull-based illustrator Gareth Sleightholme to weave his magic and come up with an improved version to accompany this article.