Mr. Kent – The Ingenious Inventor

Mr. Kent – The Ingenious Inventor
by Ian Ashdown, P. Eng., FIES
[email protected]
February 21st, 2016
Figure 1 – Aquatic Velocipede – The unnamed inventor of this aquatic velocipede claims to have used it successfully
through the winter; three air filled receptacles keep him up, pedals give motive power. (La Nature 1885.)
This is the story of a famous nineteenth-century commoner in the United Kingdom. His singular claim to fame was
that he could “walk on water,” a feat that drew tens of thousands of spectators at a time hopeful of a glimpse of him.
Perhaps the most shocking indication of his fame was that in 1822, King George IV publicly bowed to him – a lowly
commoner with no ties to royalty or the nobility – in acknowledgement of his capabilities.
He was called “Mr. Kent, the Ingenious Inventor,” a Scotsman from Glasgow. In literally hundreds of contemporary
broadsheet and journal publications, it was simply assumed that the reader knew who he as. Beyond his name,
however, history has recorded nothing about his background … or has it?
Possibly the best approach to this question is to examine the chronological history of two men – “Mr. Kent” from
Glasgow and William “Willie” Cant from Dunfermline, Fife, a small town just north of Edinburgh across the Firth
of Forth. Their stories are both similar and complementary. Most important, there is no known evidence that they are
not the same person.
Willie Cant
The birth and marriage records on William “Willie” Cant are sparse but informative. He was born on April 27th (or
May 9th), 1784 somewhere in Fife to David and Elizabeth “Betty” Cant. He married Elspeth “Betty” Cunnin in
Limekilns, Fife on August 14, 1809, and had two children born in Dunfermline (five miles away) – James Cant on
October 25th, 1811 and John Cant on October 8th, 1815. He died sometime after 1845, having lived most of his life
in Dunfermline. Time and place were unrecorded.
1 Figure 2 – Dunfermline, Fife circa 1840.
For most eighteenth-century Scottish commoners, this is the sum total of their mark on history – they were born and
baptized, likely married and had children, and more often than not, they did not have their deaths recorded.
Willie Cant, however, rose above the crowd. He was a blacksmith by trade, presumably a member of the
Incorporation of Hammermen of Dunfermline (which was dissolved in 1836). While we might think of a blacksmith
today as someone who forges horseshoes and farming implements, the term “hammermen” originally meant “men
who wield the hammer,” and included blacksmiths, goldsmiths, armourers, sword-makers, clockmakers, locksmiths,
pewters, tinsmiths, and the like. By the 1820s, the industrial revolution was in full swing in England and Scotland,
and Willie’s profession was more akin to what we would call a machinist today.
We first meet Willie in The Annals of Dunfermline and Vicinity, by Reverend E. Henderson (1879), who wrote:
“William Cant – Walking on the Sea – Early in the year 1821, William Cant, an ingenious blacksmith and machinemaker, Bridge Street, Dunfermline, completed his newly-invented machine for walking on the water …”
The phrase “walking on the water” is significant. In the deeply religious Christian society that was 19th-century
Scotland, the ability to walk on water was undoubtedly considered something of a miracle (Matthew 14:22-33). Any
claim of a mere mortal being able to “walk on water” was sure to elicit considerable interest in anyone hearing or
reading of it.
The Reverend continues:
“The machine consisted of a kind of raft, somewhat resembling the letter X, having at the extremities air-vessels of
considerable size, which unitedly were capable of supporting a weight of about 300 lbs. From the raft, slender arms
rose to a height of two feet or so above the center of it, which bore on their top a small seat (saddle fashion). On this
seat Cant sat in great state, and worked his raft hither and thither with alacrity and considerable speed, by means of
jointed valve-pieces fitted on the soles of his shoes. Such was the machine for walking on the water!”
The Reverend was less than impressed by Willie’s invention, writing:
“At best it was a roughly-made instrument, and a sorry attempt to walk on water; yet, notwithstanding this, great
crowds of people went to see his exhibitions at Limekilns and elsewhere.”
A “sorry attempt” … yes, Reverend.
2 In his 1903 book The Weavers’ Craft, Daniel Thomson wrote:
“He drew great crowds to Limekilns Village, in 1821. To witness his first attempts at water-walking. Janet Reid, the
Carnock poetess, celebrated this exhibition with her well-known lines:
Here’s oor frien’ Will Cant,
He’s juist a second Peter,
He can walk upon the water,
Paidlin’ wi’ his feeter.
This exhibition likely occurred in the spring or summer, as only a dafty (fool) would have braved the waters and
storms of the Firth of Forth in the winter months. Whatever the case, Willie Cant then simply disappears from the
public record until August 1822.
Mister Kent
Curiously, Mr. Kent appears in the public record within a few weeks of Willie Cant’s disappearance. Before we look
at his extensive and detailed record, we should consider the surnames Cant and Kent.
Cant is a Scottish and English surname derived from the Flemish occupational surname “Cant,” meaning a
precentor, or one who leads the congregation in singing of hymns in cathedrals and monasteries. It is derived from
the Old Norse French word “cant,” which in turn comes from the old French word “chant,” meaning singing or
song. Meanwhile, Kent is an English, Irish, and Scottish surname derived from the Celtic term “canto,” meaning a
borderland or rim. Spelling variations of Kent include Kents, Kente, Kindt, Kint, Keent, Kentish, … and Cant.
Mr. Kent was, as we shall see, the consummate showman. Further, he had an agenda that involved wealthy British
gentry. It could be argued that he knew that when he said his name with his lowlands Scottish accent, most English
people would likely hear him saying “Kent” rather than “Cant.” As any public relations agent will tell you, your
name is your brand – it has to be memorable, and it has to be unambiguous.
You also need to establish your pedigree. In 1821, the population of Dunfermline was likely around 15,000.
Meanwhile, the population of Glasgow had just surpassed that of Edinburgh at 147,000. Glasgow was a lynchpin of
the industrial revolution, so associating yourself with the city would have been a wise decision.
Regardless, the relationship between Cant and Kent is at best suggestive that Willie Cant and Mr. Kent are one and
the same. More evidence is to follow.
On the Road
In its April 28th, 1821 issue, the Caledonian Mercury (a broadsheet published in Midlothian, now a suburb of
Edinburgh) reported:
“A Mr. Kent, of Glasgow, has invented a machine, by which he is enabled to walk, on the surface of the water, with
perfect safety, at the rate of three miles in an hour. On Monday, morning last, between four and five o’clock, Mr.
Kent walked on the Monkland Canal, at the rate of three miles in the hour, which was witnessed by about 200
persons, who all testified their approbation at the performance.”
Figure 3 – Monkland Canal, Glasgow.
3 The editor of the Caledonian Mercury likely copied the text of this news story from a Glasgow broadsheet. In any
event, it was quickly republished in no fewer than 37 other broadsheets, magazines, and journals in Scotland,
England, and Ireland. Walking on water, it would seem, had caught the public’s attention.
One broadsheet – the Yorkshire Gazette – could not resist adding a touch of droll humour:
“If this is correct, we may expect to see petitions from the shipping interest presented to Parliament, praying for
protection against the innovation; and that Custom-house Officers will be trebled, else what can prevent French
smugglers from bringing over silks and laces during the dark nights of winter, if they can walk over from Calais to
Dover in seven hours!”
This was April 23rd, 1821. Walking on the water of the Monkland Canal (Fig. 3) before a crowd of 200 people has
the air of a small town fair. For Mr. Kent, however, it was just a warm-up exercise.
A Prodigious Crowd
Mr. Kent next exhibited his invention by “walking” on the River Clyde in Glasgow on May 11th, 1821. The Glasgow
Herald described the event succinctly:
“Friday, a prodigious crowd assembled on the banks of the Clyde, to witness the performance of Mr. Kent, who had
announced his intention of riding on his aquatic velocipede, from Rutherglen-bridge to the Wooden-bridge. He
started precisely at a quarter before three o’clock, and reached the Wooden-bridge at a quarter past three. He was
somewhat assisted by the river being swollen by the rains. He amused himself with loading and discharging a
fowling-piece as he sailed along. Several ports were stationed at the different entrances of the Green with
subscription-boxes. It is computed that above 30,000 people were present.”
Think about that: 30,000 thousand people from a city with a population of 147,000 – one in five residents, including
men, women and children. In a day when communications were limited to broadsheets, handbills, and town criers,
this is an astounding number of people. Even allowing for rampant exaggeration – perhaps 10,000 people – it is a
clear indication that “walking on water” caught the public imagination … and we now have a name for the
invention, the aquatic velocipede1.
Figure 4 – River Clyde, Glasgow.
The Glasgow Chronicle continues:
“The machine consists of three oval tin cases united by iron rods to support a sort of saddle, upon which the artist
sits, at such a height as is suitable for using his feet to give the requisite impulse. According to the inventor, the
weight of the whole does not exceed 14 lbs.”
The description, and even the wording, is remarkably similar to Rev. Henderson’s 1879 description of Willie Cant’s
invention in the Annals of Dunfermline and Vicinity. The only significant difference is that Mr. Kent’s machine has
three rather than four air-vessels as implied by Henderson’s “somewhat resembling and X.”
1
A velocipede in 1821 was basically a bicycle with two wheels and no pedals or chain drive. Invented only three
years earlier, it was also known as a hobby horse and a draisene.
4 As the Reverend noted, however, Willie Cant’s invention was “at best … a roughly-made instrument.” It would
have been obvious to Willie during his sea trials at Limekilns a month or so earlier that four air-vessels would have
resulted in the device flexing dangerously on the slightest of waves. Three air-vessels, on the other hand, would be
as stable as a three-legged stool.
The other issue is the declared weight of the invention. Anyone who has hefted a substantial length of steel rebar
will realize that this claim is nonsense. (In its July 17th, 1821 issue, The Kaleidoscope reported the weight as being
forty pounds.)
Somewhat surprisingly, this astoundingly large public exhibition drew limited coverage by the press, with only
fourteen broadsheets copying the Glasgow Chronicle text. Perhaps the other broadsheet editors looked at the
claimed attendance figures and suspected a hoax. Even so, the Liverpool Mercury (May 25th, 1821) sniffed:
“We must observe, by the way, that all these performances ought no more to be styled walking, than velocipeding
ought to be called riding.”
while the Worcester Journal (April 24, 1821) added that while the artist’s legs and feet were kept dry by a covering
of leather, “the phrase ‘walking on water’ is not very happy.” One can only wonder what the sermons delivered on
the following Sunday had to say about the matter.
Regardless, the Inverness Courier (May 24, 1821) wrote, “He is gone to exhibit in Edinburgh,” while Newcastle
Magazine (Vol. 1) reported that, “He purposes, on obtaining sufficient subscriptions, to exhibit in Leith Roads2.”
Liverpool – an Ingenious Hoax
Good news travels fast. Three days later on May 14th, 1821, thousands of spectators gathered to watch Mr. Kent
walk across the River Mersey. As reported by the Dublin broadsheet Saunder’s News-Letter (May 23, 1821),
however:
“All Liverpool was hoaxed last week, by large posting bills stuck up all over town, informing the inhabitants that
Mr. Kent was arrived from Scotland, and would the following day walk across the river Mersey, from St. George’s
Dock, to Woodside, a distance of six miles, and back again. Long before the appointed hour an immense concourse
of people assembled to witness the announced spectacle; but after waiting anxiously some hours, the hoax was
suspected, and a heavy shower of rain coming, dispersed the thousands of disappointed persons.”
Figure 5 – River Mersey, Liverpool.
But was it a hoax? Liverpool is located on the Mersey Estuary. As reported by the Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s
Whitehaven Advertiser (May 28th, 1821), “it had blown a hurricane all Sunday night, and even on Monday the
waves were delightfully agitated.” Only a bampot (an unhinged person) would consider “paidlin’ wi’ his feeter” six
miles into high waves and a strong headwind.
It seems possible that Mr. Kent had intended to exhibit at Liverpool, but the weather conspired against him. Indeed,
the Cumberland Pacquet wrote:
2
Leiths Roads is a stretch of water on the Firth of Forth extending about two miles from Leith, a coastal town
immediately west of Edinburgh.
5 “A report was circulated on the same evening, and next morning circulated, that Mr. K. was only prevented from
exhibiting his wonderful feat, in consequence of the roughness of the tide caused by the breeze; but that he would
positively exhibit that day. The quays, in consequence, were again crowded on Tuesday; coaches were seen driving
along with ladies, anxious to behold the wonderful man, and the masts and yards of the ships were crowded with
spectators.”
To be fair to Mr. Kent, he may have arranged to have had the exhibition advertised prior to exhibiting in Glasgow.
The Cumberland Pacquet wrote that, “On Saturday night, bills were distributed through Liverpool, stating the arrival
of Mr. Kent, on his way to London …” As Robbie Burns would have noted, however, “The best laid schemes o’
mice an’ men gang aft agley” – three days later, he would be in Edinburgh.
Regardless, one thing is clear – in the public’s eye throughout the United Kingdom, Mr. Kent was a nineteencentury rock star.
Edinburgh
On May 19th, 1821, the Caledonian Mercury reported that Mr. Kent had arrived from Glasgow, that he was
exhibiting his aquatic velocipede “privately,” and that, “He proposes, on obtaining sufficient subscriptions, to
exhibit in Leith Roads.” This was echoed in the May 26th, 1821 issue of the Lancaster Gazette.
Figure 6 – Leith Docks, Edinburgh.
His next two exhibitions, however, were anything but private. On May 25th, 1821, the Edinburgh Courant reported,
Mr. Kent “… exhibited, on Friday, his machine for walking upon water in one of the new wet docks at Leith. The
novelty of the circumstance drew together a considerable crowd to witness the uncommon scene.’ Following a
detailed description of the invention, the article concluded:
“Mr. Kent started about half-past two o’clock, and after various evolutions, crossing and recrossing the dock several
times, & firing a fowling-piece, which, with a fishing-rod, were buckled to the rod in front of the saddle, he proved,
to the satisfaction of the numerous spectators, the complete safety of his machine, and the practicality of using it
even for a considerable distance.”
As reported by the Caledonian Mercury (May 26th, 1821), this exhibition was performed “in the west-most dock of
Leith, before an immense number of spectators from Edinburgh and Leith, who testified their satisfaction with the
performance by loud and frequent cheers.” Whatever the purpose of these exhibitions, the public clearly loved the
entertainment. In keeping with the times, however, the Hull Advertiser (June 15, 1821) echoed the earlier Liverpool
Mercury editorial comment in sniffing, “The phrase ‘walking on water’ is not very happy.” (Altogether, the Leith
exhibition was reported by at least twelve broadsheets.)
6 Mr. Kent’s intentions, however, become somewhat clearer with his exhibition the following day. As reported by the
Edinburgh Advertiser (May 29th, 1821):
“On Saturday evening he repeated his exhibition in the new dry dock, in which sufficient water had been admitted
for the purpose of the experiment, without exposing the artist to observation from without. A vast concourse of
spectators attended.”
Walking on water across a river may have been the equivalent of a public relations stunt. Convincing the
government authorities to partially fill a dry dock for the express purposes of an “experiment,” however, is a clear
indication that Mr. Kent had friends in high places, and that he had more than just public entertainment in mind.
The Invention
It is appropriate at this time, and for two reasons, to describe the invention in detail. An anonymous reporter for the
Edinburgh Courant wrote:
“The apparatus consisted of a triangle of about ten feet, formed by rods of iron, to each angle of which was affixed a
case of block tin, filled with air, and completely watertight. These little boats or cases seemed to be about 2½ feet
long, by about 1½ feet broad, and seemed to buoy up the machine and its superincumbent weight. These cases, we
understand, are filled with little hollow balls, attached to a chain, and capable of floating the machine, should any
accident happen to the outer case. From the centre of the little boats rose other rods, bent upwards, so as to meet in
the middle, at a convenient height, and forming at this juncture a small seat or saddle, like that of the common
velocipede. Like that machine, likewise, it has a cushion for the breast, and ropes or reins to guide the case at the
apex of the triangle; and upon the whole the motion is produced in nearly the same manner. When in the seat, Mr.
Kent’s feet descended to within a few inches of the water; and to his shoes were buckled the paddles, made of black
tin likewise, and having a joint yielding in one direction, so as not to give a counter-motion to the machine when
moving the leg forward for a new stroke. His heels rested in stirrups attached to the saddle, and the motion was
performed by the alternate action of the feet.”
This description is valuable in that it clearly describes the aquatic velocipede of the “unnamed inventor” illustrated
in Figure 1 – he is without a doubt Mr. Kent.
The same description is equally valuable for another reason – it provides an overlooked clue to the identity of one of
the world’s first sports writers: John Badcock.
John Badcock
According to Wikipedia, John Badcock was an English sporting writer, still not identified, who published between
1816 and 1830 on boxing and horse racing. Among his works were the memorably-titled Slang: A Dictionary of the
Turf, the Ring, the Chase, the Pit, or Bon-ton, and the Varieties of Life, Forming the Completest and Most Authentic
Lexicon Balatronicum Hitherto Offered to the Notice of the Sporting World (1823), and the somewhat more
reasonably-titled Domestic Amusements, or Philosophical Recreations Containing the Results of Various
Experiments in Practical Science and the Useful Arts, Applicable to the Business of Real Life, to Curious Research
and Elegant Recreation, Including Numerous Useful Tests of Adulterations in the Materials that Conduce to Health;
and an Account of New and Important Discoveries in Natural Philosophy, being a Sequel Volume to Philosophical
Recreations, or Winter Amusements (1823).
Included in Domestic Amusements, or Philosophical Recreations is a five-page and very detailed description of what
John Badcock called the “aquatic tripod, or tricipede.” It clearly describes Mr. Kent’s aquatic velocipede, and
further identifies him as “Mr. Kent (a Scotchman).” Finally, the frontispiece plate (Fig. 7) is a clear precursor of the
engraving shown in Fig. 1.
The full text of the description is included in Appendix A, but two items are of note: 1) much of text is clearly
derived directly from the Edinburgh Courant article, with the same writing style; and 2) the author wrote:
“That Mr. Kent might have ‘filled these cases with little hollow balls, attached by a chain, and capable of floating
the machine in case of accident,’ is not improbable. We do not believe the fact, and consider them utterly useless;
and moreover feel sincerely sorry to have occasion for making this remark.”
The remark in question can only refer to the Edinburgh Courant article.
7 The Wikipedia article notes that, “internal evidence suggests only a connection with Devon or Cornwall” as clues to
John Badcock’s identity, some 600 to 650 miles to the south of Edinburgh. To this should be added the likelihood
that he was a reporter for, and possibly the editor of, the Edinburgh Courant in 1821.
Figure 7 – Aquatic Tripod from Domestic Amusements, or Philosophical Recreations (1823).
Edinburgh – Continued
Mr. Kent next appeared in public on June 12th, 1821 at Newhaven, another Edinburgh suburb that is adjacent to the
Leith Docks. According to the Edinburgh Courant (and as reported in nine other broadsheets), he walked from
Newhaven across the Firth of Forth – a distance of some five miles – during the week of June 5th, 1821. This was
followed by an excursion from Newhaven on June 12th, 1821 (as reported in eleven broadsheets), where he “… after
going about the piers for some time, walked out to the Roads and round the guardship, returning to the pier in a
boat” – another indication that he was known to the British Navy.
June 14th, 1821 made these connections explicit and public. Again according to the Edinburgh Courant and six other
broadsheets, he again crossed the Firth of Forth from Queensferry to North Queensferry (a distance of about a mile)
“in the presence of the Duke of Atholl and several other Noblemen and Gentlemen.” Mr. Kent, it would seem, was
looking for investors in his invention.
The following day, June 15th, 1821, was for a public exhibition of Mr. Kent’s invention – or rather inventions.
According to the Edinburgh Courant (June 16th, 1821), “…he exhibited in the sea, at Portobello, before a great
concourse of spectators. He went out about a mile from the shore, and walked backward and forward for some time.
Men were stationed at different places with boxes to collect money from the people assembled; and we understand a
handsome sum was obtained, which will enable the ingenious contriver to proceed to London, where he proposes to
exhibit his apparatus.”
On the same publication date, the Caledonian Mercury offered further details: “After walking along the coast at
some little distance from the land, Mr. Kent left his apparatus, and made several movements in the water, his head
and shoulders only appearing above the surface. With the paddles by which he gives the impetus to his aquatic
velocipede, and a kind of life-preserver bound round his body, he moved about for some time with apparent ease.”
8 Fig. 8 – Portobello, Edinburgh.
A life preserver? To put this information into context, shipwrecks and loss of life on the shores of the British Isles
were an all-too-common occurrence in the nineteenth century. Sailing ships regularly met their demise during
stormy weather, and with no organized life preservation societies to assist them, sailors and passengers often lost
their lives within sight of shore.
This is perhaps best exemplified by a report in the May 21st issue of Salisbury and Winchester Journal:
“During a gale on the 14th ult. three boats were seen in Chiswell Cove, with the crews in most imminent danger
from the fury of the waves, which frustrated every attempt of the people on shore to render them assistance. At this
juncture, a dog of the Newfoundland breed, but born in the island, plunged into the water, and succeeded in reaching
the nearest boat. The crew immediately put a line into his mouth, and the sagacious and brave animal returned, with
it in safety to the shore! This line was eagerly seized by the sailors on the beach, and a rope was fastened to it, when,
by the great exertions of those in the boat, as those on the land, all the three boats were safely pulled on the beach,
one by one, the boats having communication with each other, by means of a long rope. This is not a solitary instance
of the vast utility of the dogs bred in Portland, in cases of marine distress.”
For Mr. Kent, this must have seemed like a golden business opportunity – an aquatic velocipede capable of pulling a
lifeline from shore to the stricken vessels, and a life preserver to ensure his safety in the event of being capsized by
the surf. Such devices would benefit both the British Navy and commercial shipping interests.
Mr. Kent was in Edinburgh and its vicinity for at least a month, and very publicly exhibiting his inventions. Leith,
Burntisland, Newhaven, Queensferry, Portobello – all of these towns are within fifteen miles of Dunfermline. If Mr.
Kent and Willie Cant were two different people, it seems almost inconceivable that there would not have been some
mention of the two of them, if only in The Annals of Dunfermline and Vicinity (1879) or The Weavers’ Craft (1903),
two people with essentially the same invention.
On the Road Again
Mr. Kent may have told the press he was off to London, but June 28th, 1821 saw him preparing to walk the River
Cart at Paisley, some five miles west of Glasgow. According to the July 7th, 1821 issue of the Glasgow Herald, he
was “… in the presence of a vast crowd of spectators.” Unfortunately, just as he was about to proceed, “… an alarm
of fire got up among the multitude, and the smoke from the burning instantly became visible.” For once, the
purportedly Glaswegian rock star had been upstaged.
A number of buildings were lost, a common theme of the broadsheets from the time. However, a following incident
sheds some light on the precariousness of small-town life in the early nineteenth century:
“It is also with pain that we have to communicate that the proprietor of the tenement above mentioned, worn out
with fatigue and vexation, was next night sleeping in the house of a friend, and on being awakened by the drums of
the 41st regiment, about to leave town at four o’clock in the morning, he went over a three story window, by which
both his arms were broken, one of them in two places, and he was otherwise much hurt. He was carried to the House
of Recovery where, when our latest accounts came away, hopes were entertained of his doing well.”
9 On July 1st, 1821, Mr. Kent was back in Glasgow and exhibiting on the River Clyde. According to the Liverpool
Mercury (July 6th, 1821), “… the celebrated Mr. Kent, a few days ago started from the shores of the Clyde, and
boarded his Majesty’s Sloop Driver, at a distance of six miles3, in one hour and 20 minutes, while a smart sea was
running. He is represented to have so much command of his machine as to keep up with the steam boats. At a
distance, no part of the floating apparatus being seen, he appears like a man literally walking on water … he
purposes still further improvements to his marine Velocipede.”
Note that the invention has been renamed from “aquatic” velocipede to “marine” velocipede. This makes sense if it
were being presented to investors as a life-saving apparatus. Walking six miles across a “smart sea” would seem to
prove its basic utility.
This exhibition was apparently witnessed yet again by thousands of spectators, but at least one curmudgeon of an
editor (the Greenock Advertiser, as republished in the July 9th, 1821 issue of the Glasgow Herald) had other
thoughts:
“… it fell to our turn to witness the performance of Mr. Kent on his machine, which has been called by all sorts of
names, but which we shall take the liberty to denominate the Aquatic Horse. Though the previous intimation
scarcely warranted the expectation, yet so generally had the intelligence circulated, that ere the “hour of cause,”
thousands had taken up their stations on the different quays. We suspect, however, that the inappropriate phrase of
“walking on water,” so currently proclaimed in the accounts of Mr. Kent’s previous excursions, from being too
literally instead of liberally interpreted, must have had no small share in bringing together so large an audience.
Certain it is, the tokens of wonderment, when the operations of the machine came to be exhibited, were neither
numerous nor striking; and many were even ungrateful enough to denounce, as something approaching to a hoax, a
contrivance the inspection of which cost them nothing, if they deemed it worth nothing. Now this, we confess, was
dealing hardly with the machinist. We confess that his invention (supposing that for the moment it be dignified with
the name, and that he is the original contriver), is not likely to be of importance for any useful purpose, but it at least
deserves as much credit as that stupid, bone-breaking contrivance, the Velocipede; as Mr. Kent’s Bucephalus
certainly makes considerable way through the water, with much apparent ease to the rider, and little or no risk of
giving him a ducking. This is saying something in its favour – and we may add, that the aquatic horse might be used
with effect in shooting sea-fowl, and similar sports—nay, we will not venture to affirm that the time may not arrive,
when our Greenock Leanders will be seen mounting their marine chargers, and careering through the waves, for the
purpose of holding amorous parlance with some beauteous Heros on the opposite shores of the Clyde. But to return
to Mr. Kent’s actual performance: - He remained on the water above an hour; during which time he paddled himself
repeatedly up and down the river, besides making various circuits, and displaying the freedom of his movements by
loading and discharging a musket, wielding a sword, & c. Several steam-boats passing down the river, he went close
up to, and saluted them, without appearing to be in the slightest degree incommoded by the agitation of the water,
which the movements of the former occasioned. He was, however, a good deal annoyed by a number of small boats
which, from the overweening curiosity of their crews, closed upon him whichever way he turned; but here the
equilibrium of his temper was a well-preserved as that of his machine – and altogether, though no one might go
away astonished, we think few, but for their erroneous preconceptions, should have departed otherwise than
pleased.”
The Liverpool Mercury continued, “He is expected to exhibit at London on the day of the Coronation [of King
George IV], and we hope will call at Liverpool on his rout to town.”
Liverpool
A week later, the Liverpool Mercury (July 13th, 1821) wrote: “Mr. Kent, the celebrated aquatic pedestrian, arrived
here from Glasgow on his way to London (where he purposes exhibiting on the coronation day) on Wednesday
morning last, by the Majestic steamship; and as soon as the vessel came to anchor opposite George’s Dock Pier, he
mounted his marine velocipede, and proceeded ferry-house, to the surprise and gratification of hundreds on the pier,
and the no small astonishments of the inhabitants on the Cheshire side, who flocked to the beach to greet him. The
artist was dressed in a blue coat and white pantaloons, and at a little distance appeared to stride or skait with
3
The HMS Driver was an 18-gun sloop launched in 1797. Beginning in 1825, she was used as a convict ship, and
was broken up in 1834.
10 uprightness and at ease; an no part of the machinery being then visible, excited, by a novel association, a mixture of
risibility and admiration.”
The Lancaster Gazette (July 14, 1821) echoed this with: “Mr. Kent descended from the side of the Majestic at about
half-past eleven o’clock, and after moving about the briny surface, to afford those on shore an opportunity of seeing
him to advantage, he crossed the river to Seacombe. The novelty and simplicity of the spectacle delighted all who
beheld it, and although the notice which the town had of it was not more than an hour, still the number of people
assembled on the Pier-head was very great.”
It is interesting that news of Mr. Kent had graduated from being filler material for other broadsheets to copy to being
worthy of the editor’s personal attention. The Liverpool Mercury went further, adding:
“Mr. Kent, we understand, goes through the various evolutions with a musket while mounted on his vehicle, and
uses the broadsword with expertness. The friends of science, the lovers of novelty, and the encouragers of genius,
will no doubt be gratified by the opportunity afforded this day of witnessing, from the Floating Bath the artist’s skill
on this novel and surprising machine. (See adv.)”
Ah yes, “see advertisement” (Fig. 9). The division between editorial comment and advertising revenue was
somewhat murky in the editor’s mind.
Fig. 9 – Liverpool Mercury (1821/07/13) advertisement.
The New Floating Baths of Liverpool are worthy of comment, if only for their historical interest. Built at public
expense, it was a two-story floating barge that offered both bathing facilities and a colonnade for passengers
awaiting the arrival of passage-boats and steam packets in bad weather. There were, of course, separate bathing
facilities for gentlemen and ladies, both of which offered warm and cold private baths with dressing-rooms
containing fireplaces.
11 Fig. 10 – Liverpool New Floating Baths.
Having Mr. Kent perform would, of course, have had immense promotional value for the public facility. As reported
by the Liverpool Courier (July 18, 1821), “… he twice exhibited to numerous companies on board the Floating-bath,
which was surrounded by boats crowded with spectators. All the quays whence a glimpse of the machine could be
gained were also crowded.”
This did not, of course, influence in any way the pomposity of the editor for The Kaleidoscope. Writing in the July
17th, 1821 issue:
“We feel called upon to offer a few remarks upon the exhibition of Mr. Kent from the Floating Bath last week, and
at which we were present. The effect which might be naturally anticipated from witnessing the feat itself, as
announced, is very much weakened by the clumsy nature of the apparatus itself, which appears to be the work of an
artist who has never aspired beyond the manufacture of a horse shoe, or a plough-share. The whole of the tackle
(irons rods, chain stirrups, & c.) weighs forty pounds, which is about twenty pounds more than, under skilled
management, might be to answer the end, with the advantage of superior neatness. The floats are so very bulky also,
that the spectator cannot feel anything approaching to surprise, to see a man buoyed by means of three air vessels,
any one of which appears competent to suffice. What we have said is not intended to disparage either the invention
itself, or the talents of Mr. Kent. We believe the clumsy construction of his Velocipede is to be ascribe to the little
encouragement he has met with everywhere except in Liverpool; and we understand he is now engaged in
symplifying [sic] and reducing the bulk of his apparatus.”
Coronation Day
King George IV came late to the throne, being 57 when his father George III died in 1820. His coronation in
Westminster Abbey on July 19th, 1821 was both magnificent and expensive, costing the taxpayers some 20 million
pounds (30 million USD) in today’s currency. Nevertheless, it was an extremely popular event with the public.
If Mr. Kent had any intention of exhibiting in London on Coronation Day, it was not to be. Instead, at the invitation
of the Coronation Committee, he became one of the star attractions of the celebrations in Liverpool. According to
the Chester Courant (July 19th, 1821):
“At one o’clock, Mr. Kent, who had been engaged by the Coronation Committee to exhibit in the dock, for the
amusement of the public, entered it upon his marine velocipede. He appeared in the act of towing in the May, a line
from the ship being attached to his machine. At length the long-wished for moment for the entrance of the ships
arrived. Shortly after one o’clock, a salute of nineteen guns was fired from the North Pier, and the May, Captain
Owens with her yards manned and colours flying, majestically entered the virgin dock, amidst the repeated cheers of
the surrounding multitudes, the bands striking up the national tuner of ‘God Save the King.’”
The Morning Post from London reported in its July 27th, 1821 issue that he “… was received by the spectators with
the most distinguished marks of approbation.”
12 John Hall, the editor of THE PORT FOLIO Vol. XII (Philadelphia, 1821), was however less impressed:
“Although it is stated in one of the daily journals, that Mr. Kent exhibited this invention to thousands of persons, in
the new dock which was operational at Liverpool, on the day of the Coronation, we have great doubts whether any
practical good will result from it … Mr. Kent’s contrivance will follow the fate of its predecessor on land.”
Fig. 11 – Marine Velocipede (from The PORT FOLIO Vol. XII, 1821).
Given that “its predecessor on land” evolved into today’s bicycles and motorcycles, he was perhaps half-right.
Two days later saw Mr. Kent in Chester, faced with the rather skeptical editor of the Chester Chronicle (as reported
in the Lancaster Gazette, July 28th, 1821):
“Saturday last, a person named Kent, astounded many hundreds of the inhabitants of this city, by what he terms
“Walking on the Water,” on the Dee, opposite to St. John’s Church … “The invention is odd enough, but we cannot
conceive that it is to be applied to any very useful purpose.”
If this relentless negative press troubled the celebrated aquatic pedestrian, it didn’t matter – he was on his way to
Dublin.
Dublin
As reported in the July 24th, 1821 issue of the Dublin broadsheet Saunder’s News-Letter:
“Mr. Kent, whose exploits have attracted so much attention in Liverpool and other places where he has appeared
before the public, arrived here on Sunday evening [July 22, 1821] aboard the Steam Packet Waterloo. On the packet
reaching Ringsend [Dublin], he launched and mounted his marine velocipede, and proceeded before the packet up to
Sir John Rogerson’s-quay [on the River Liffey], where he was loudly cheered by the spectators on above.”
Three days later, Mr. Kent demonstrated his marine velocipede privately to the Lord Mayor of Portobello, Dublin
and his associates on July 25th, 1821 at the Portobello City Basin. As reported in the July 30th, 1821 issue of the
Glasgow Herald, “The exhibition occurred in the presence of the Lord Mayor, and a number of nobility,
fashionables, &c., to the great amusement of all beholders. After Mr. Kent had completed his task, the Lord Mayor
immediately set a subscription on foot, and we are happy to say Mr. Kent’s labours were handsomely reward.”
13 Fig. 12 – Portobello City Basin (from Illustrated London News, 1846).
Ever the showman, this became the official seal of approval (Fig. 13) for his public appearances two days later.
Fig. 13 – Advertisement from Freeman’s Journal, July 26th, 1821.
His Majesty Was Much Amused
On May 16th, 1821, the Dublin Journal reported the news from London that:
“We understand from authority that the principal obstacle to his Majesty’s visiting this country, is the disinclination
of ministers to sanction the expense of a coronation, and the cost of the mediated excursion in the same year. If
ministers should press his Majesty to a choice, we fear much our chances of his presence this year rests on very
slender grounds.”
Their fears were unfounded, however, for three weeks after his coronation, His Majesty boarded a ship and sailed
across the Irish Sea to Dublin, arriving on August 12th, 1821, his 59th birthday, for eighteen days of non-stop
partying. Of his departure on September 3rd, 1821, the Dublin Evening Post (September 4th, 1821) reported:
14 “Pleasure-boats were seen sailing round the Squadron, and it was with no small degree of surprise and gratification
that Mr. Kent was descried at a distance on his Marine Velocipede, waving a flag, whilst to those on land he
appeared to be walking on the water. Mr. Kent went round the different vessels of the Squadron, taking off his hat
and bowing as he came opposite to his majesty’s Yacht [the Royal George].”
while the Dublin Weekly Register (September 8th, 1821) wrote:
“Mr. Kent was seen close to his Majesty’s pinnace, like a water sprite, skimming o’er the surface of the old ocean,
waving his flag in one hand, and his hat in the other, firing a salute at one moment, and going through the broad
sword exercise the next. His Majesty appeared much amused by this singular performance.”
News of this singular performance was republished by at least eight other broadsheets at the time. Mr. Kent had
come to the attention of His Majesty himself.
Unfortunately, His Majesty’s attention did not automatically translate into the attention of the British Board of
Admiralty. He was one of the idlest monarchs ever to ascend a throne, and the government itself was controlled by
Lord Liverpool as Prime Minister. For all his popularity with the public, Mr. Kent’s success in attracting investors
apparently continued to elude him. It would not be until the following year that he appeared in public again.
Theatre of the Arts
This is not to say, however, that the public forgot about Mr. Kent, the Ingenious Inventor. An advertisement in the
November 14th, 1821 issue of Dublin’s Freeman’s Journal featured Mr. Kent as a mechanical contrivance (Fig. 14).
Fig. 14 – Advertisement from Freeman’s Journal, November 14th, 1821.
Remarkably, this “mechanical and picturesque theatre of the arts” would enjoy over a year’s continuous run – it was
advertised in the June 16th, 1824 issue of the Waterford Mall as having played in Paris, London, and for 400 nights
at the two-storey Royal Arcade in Dublin (Fig. 15).
15 Fig. 15 – Royal Arcade and Grand Promenade, Dublin.
Another Year …
Having wisely avoided the unusually wet and stormy winter weather of 1821, Mr. Kent appeared on the River
Tweed at Berwick in celebration of Barge Day and the King’s birthday4, April 23rd, 1822. This was followed by
exhibition on the River Aln at Alnwick on April 30th, 1822, where, according to the Durham County Advertiser
(May 11th, 1822):
“He walked several times along the river from the north bridge to the fall in front of the castle, and at intervals fired
several shots, and went through the evolutions of the firelock and sword exercises. The novelty of the exhibition,
and the fineness of the evening, attracted a very numerous assembly to witness the singular spectacle.”
…Another Hoax
It is remarkable that, given the popularity of Mr. Kent’s “singular spectacle,” there were no attempts to imitate his
success. In fact, it would be another five years before there would be reports of another aquatic velocipede.
This did not, however, deter at least one wag. As reported by the June 1st, 1882 issue of the Norfolk Chronicle:
“Hoax extraordinary.– Zachariah Whitmore announced on Saturday last to the inhabitants of Lynn and vicinity, that
having arrive from Philadelphia, he should have the honour of exhibiting his unrivalled powerful performance on his
Water Velocipede, and intended, on Monday last, to start from Cambridge at twelve o’clock, and arrive at Ean Brink
Cut at six in the evening. This notice drew an immense concourse of spectators to the expected scene of action;
carriages, gigs, donkey carts, horse and assmen, were all in requisition, and public expectation was raised to the
highest pitch for several hours; the horsemen who rode up the river side first announced his approach, and then
when the gaping multitude began to think it was a hoax, other announcements proclaimed that he had met with an
accident at Denver Sluice; by these maneuvers the company were kept together ‘til the evening shades prevailed,’
when no water walker appearing, they ‘toddled home’ highly chagrined, glad to hide their rueful countenances, and
bitterly lamenting their having been so confoundingly hoaxed in these melting moments of May."
More Exhibitions
The month of May found Mr. Kent in Newcastle where, according to the May 18th, 1822 issue of the Durham
County Advertiser:
4
From the Westmorland Gazette Saturday 27, 1822: “His Majesty’s Birth Day falling so late in the season as the
12th of August, the King was pleased to command, the celebration should take place on the 23rd of April, St.
George’s day, being better calculated for the encouragement of trade, as London is then fuller than at any other time
of the year.” 16 “At an early hour on the morning of yesterday se’nnight5 [May 11, 1822], Mr. Kent, who has been for some days
exhibiting his marine velocipede, in a room, in Newcastle, publicly walked upon the River Tyne, above the bridge,
near the Shot Tower. He first crossed the River, and afterwards proceeded to near the mouth of the Team, at
Dunston. The few who saw his performance were highly gratified; but, owing to a disappointment at in a supply of
powder, he did not fire the gun he carried with him, but maneuvered with a sword. Another person exhibited the
properties of his life preserver.”
Disappointment or not, this exhibition left a lasting impression on at least one person. Writing sixty years later in A
Chronological History of the Origin and Development of Steam Navigation (Preble 1895), a Mr. Driffield stated in
1882 in no uncertain terms:
“If I recall rightly, the machine I saw [on the river Tyne] was a marine velocipede, on three long, spider-like legs,
stretching from what formed a seat for the rider. These legs were fixed in hollow tin spheres, sufficiently large to
bear his weight, and wide enough apart top enable him to maintain his balance. The rider had flanges or flappers
fitted on his feet, and was thus enabled to propel himself. Although the speed was not very great, it was sufficient to
enable him to keep pace with the boats around him, namely, the procession of barges on the day when George IV
was crowned.”
The Durham County Advertiser (May 18th, 1822) reported that on Ascension Day (May 16th, 1822):
“…the Mayor and Corporation of Newcastle, according to ancient custom, visited the boundaries of their
jurisdiction, as conservators of the River Tyne. The amphibious Mr. Kent appeared walking on the river near the
bridge. He carried a gun, which he repeatedly discharged.”
Ever the showman… but apparently no investors.
A Wager
If the public appears to be losing interest in you, do something outrageous (Fig. 16).
Fig. 16 – Notice from the Hampshire Chronicle and Courier (May 20th, 1822).
This announcement was published in at least thirty broadsheets – nothing excites the public like the thought of a
wager, especially one that would be worth 110,000 pounds ($165,000 USD) today.
Unfortunately, there is no record of Mr. Kent having made the attempt. This was perhaps to the best – attempting to
“walk” 25 miles across the open ocean while sitting on a bicycle seat and wearing leather breeches, regardless of sea
conditions, would likely have resulted in some serious skin irritation.
Sunderland
Located some ten miles southeast of Newcastle, Sunderland was a logical location for a marine exhibition. As
reported by the Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette (June 14th, 1822):
“At a private exhibition, early on Sunday morning [June 2nd, 1822], he kept about two miles from the shore, and
moved along with the rapidity and ease of a man skaiting.”
and:
“On Monday se’nnight [June 3rd, 1822], Mr. Kent exhibited his apparatus for walking on water at Sunderland. There
were at least 20,000 spectators on the shore, and so many boats crowded about him, that he could not exhibit to
advantage.”
This latter exhibition was reported by four other broadsheets, and by two newspapers, in 1874 and 1932. A century
later, the perambulations of the aquatic pedestrian were still newsworthy.
5
The archaic “se’ennight, later spelled “sennight,” is a contraction of “seven nights,” or one week.
17 Four days later – June 7th, 1822 – Mr. Kent was on the River Wear at Durham, where according to the Durham
County Advertiser (June 15th, 1822), “…a larger portion of the population of Durham was drawn together, at the
invitation of the Town’s Crier …” Unfortunately, the editor was nothing less than scathing in his lengthy review (see
Appendix B). A sampling:
“After having heard so much of Mr. Kent’s walking on water, we certainly felt disappointed on seeing him, and
while we laughed at the absurdity of the exhibition, John Bull’s favorite expression came across our minds, and we
involuntarily exclaimed ‘Humbug!’”
Down to York for an exhibition on June 14th, 1822 on the River Ouse and another scathing review in the Yorkshire
Gazette (June 15th, 1822): “We owe it to the public to declare, that we consider the business in the light of a
miserable subterfuge.” As always, however, the public did not seem to care what the editor thought.
Still, the negative reviews continued. When Mr. Kent exhibited in the North Sea off the River Hull estuary on June
27th, 1822, the Hull Gazette Advertiser and Exchange (June 28th, 1822) observed:
“Mr. Kent, the aquatic pedestrian, exhibited his Marine Velocipede on the North Sea, to a large party, who
accompanied him down the river in the Kingston Stream Packet. The machine is of rude construction and very
bulky, and is evidently susceptible to improvement; although we do not suppose it will ever be of much practical
value.”
It was at this point that Mr. Kent had had enough. The following week, the editor of the Hull Gazette Advertiser and
Exchange wrote:
“A paragraph in our last week’s paper respecting Mr. Kent’s apparatus for walking on water, seems to have given
offence to that gentleman. Presuming, however, that the notice which Mr. Kent has thought proper to take of it, was
only intended as a PUFF to his aquatic exhibition, and as his object has probably been attained, we shall dismiss the
subject without any further remark …”
He did however have the decency to add, “We understand Mr. Kent intends exhibiting again on Monday [July 1st,
1822], for which purpose he has engaged the Yorkshireman Steam Packet, which will leave at ten o’clock.”
Oh yes, and, “The cases are made of copper, and not tin.” A Parthian shot, indeed.
King George IV Visits Edinburgh
It is now August 1822, and Mr. Kent has another golden … and possibly last … opportunity to engage King George
IV.
A year after his coronation, His Majesty became the first British monarch to visit Scotland in 170 years. The event
was stage managed by Sir Walter Scott, who undoubtedly was aware of the popularity of the “celebrated Mr. Kent.”
Having drawn a crowd of 20,000 spectators to the shores of Sunderland only two months before, he would have
been a natural choice to entertain at His Majesty’s arrival in Edinburgh on August 15th, 1822. (John Murray, the
fourth Duke of Atholl, later described the visit as “one and twenty daft days” – this from a man who had been
declared “of unsound mind” in 1798.)
There are several detailed eye-witness accounts of the entire visit, notably an anonymous work titled A Narrative of
the Visit of King George IV to Scotland and Robert Mudie’s A Historical Account of His Majesty’s Visit to Scotland,
both published in 1882. These accounts contain so much intimate detail that it is likely they were governmentcommissioned publications. (The anonymous work was dedicated to the “Duke of Athole.”)
The 124-page anonymous account reported that:
“Now, the immense multitudes which crowned the heights, occupied the platforms, balconies and windows, and
lined the streets in the route of the procession, had taken their stations, which they kept with steady and orderly
firmness; barges filled with people were gliding to and fro between the harbor and the [Leith] Roads; Mr. Kent was
seen walking on the water; and the fineness of the day enabled all without inconvenience or annoyance to enjoy the
novelty and impressive grandeur of the scene.”
Robert Mudie, in his voluminous 338-page account, was considerably more explicit:
18 “A few minutes before twelve o’clock, a gun from one of the squadron announced that the King had entered his
barge. The moment the signal was heard, a shout was raised by the thousands assembled upon shore, the effect of
which was indescribably striking. The roar of the cannon from the ships and the battery, which saluted the King, and
the combined voices of the multitude, seemed as if contending for the mastery; while this joyful tumult of sound was
rendered still more impressively grand, by the profound stillness that prevailed in the background. His Majesty was
accompanied in his barge by the Marquis of Conyngham; Lord Graves; Sir Charles Paget, Commodore; Mr. Russel,
Flag Lieutenant; and Mr. Tucker, Midshipman; and was rowed by sixteen men, dressed in blue frocks and black
velvet caps, richly trimmed with gold lace, Sir Charles Paget acting as helmsman. The royal barge was proceeded by
the barge of the Admiral on the station, and followed by the captains of all the King’s vessels in the Roads, in their
respective barges, according to seniority.”
This lengthy quote (which was excerpted by The Scots Magazine in its October 1st, 1822 issue) is needed to
establish the context of what follows. Being the first visit in nearly centuries, it was an event – a very public
spectacle – of the utmost gravity. This makes what came next all the more remarkable:
“An immense number of private boats, gayly trimmed, formed the rear of this grand aquatic procession, which
advanced with a velocity almost equal to the impatience of the delighted spectators. When at some distance from the
shore, his majesty was saluted by Mr. Kent, who was walking upon the water, to whom his Majesty bowed.”
If ceremonial protocol is strict today, it is nothing compared to that of the early nineteen century. There was royalty,
nobility, gentlemen, and the great horde of commoners. For royalty – the King, no less – to publicly bow in
acknowledgement to a commoner like Mr. Kent is truly remarkable; to have the act recorded for posterity even more
so.
Fig. 17 – The Landing of King George IV at Leith.
Some Other Water Pedestrian
Here is where it becomes interesting. The Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser (August 26th,
1822) wrote:
“Mr. Kent, or some other water pedestrian, walked out to meet his Majesty, and passed by the Royal barge, waving
his hat and cheering.”
19 As previously noted, there is no mention whatsoever of any other “water pedestrian,” other than the apparently nonexistent Zachariah Whitmore, in the news until 1827. The only reasonable explanation is the reporter, on
commenting that he had seen Mr. Kent, was told (phonetically), “Noo, that’s noot Mr. Kent, that’s oor Willie Kent!”
It is also noteworthy that only the Cumberland Pacquet apparently saw fit to even mention Mr. Kent’s performance.
One possible explanation is that the hundreds of pages of details in the semi-official reports overwhelmed the
broadsheets at the time; another is that the press, if not the public, had grown tired of Mr. Kent, especially after his
failure to follow through on his Dover-to-Calais wager.
Be that as it may, we need to look into the future to learn more.
Willie Cant Returns
In Alex Stewart’s 1889 book Reminiscences of Dunfermline and Neighbourhood, we learn that:
“Amongst those whose tastes lay in the direction of mechanics and invention was the well-known Willie Cant, one
of Dunfermline’s sons. He had an eager faculty for this particular pursuit, and his walk was out of the beaten track of
his fellow-townsmen. He was the inventor of various contrivances; but the one by which he was at that time best
known was his apparatus for enabling him to ‘walk’ upon the water. This peculiar machine, consisting of paddles
attached to his feet, distinguished Willie very greatly in 1822, when King George visited Scotland. Thousands of
spectators assembled to see him walking across the water at Leith Roads, towards the warship which had conveyed
the King from London, and also to witness the landing of His Majesty.”
Daniel Thomson also mentions this even in his 1903 book, The Weavers’ Craft:
“His machine for walking on the water – with which he, in 1822, launched off from Leith Pier to meet George IV,
when about to land there – was his best-known invention.”
If there were indeed both Willie Cant and Mr. Kent on their respective and identical inventions greeting His
Majesty, we might have expected to read of the world’s first and only marine velocipede battle, complete with
fowling pieces as weapons.
From an article titled, Willie Cant: A Dunfermline Inventor of the Early Eighties (Dunfermline Press, November 5th,
1949), we have:
“In 1882 [sic], however, Cant’s faith was rudely shattered. In August of that year, King George the Fourth was
paying a visit to Edinburgh, and the ‘smith journeyed across the Forth to Leith to welcome his Majesty and the
accompanying naval squadron. Alas, the great assembly of vessels and the surging waves upset his machine, and
Cant was fortunate in escaping with his life from the wreck.”
There is reportedly a copperplate engraving of this event, similar in style to that of Figure 1. Unfortunately, a
reproduction of this engraving has yet to be located.
Finally, we have this from Ebenezer Henderson’s The Annals of Dunfermline and Vicinity:
“In August 1822, he [William Cant] left Leith harbor to meet the squadron which conveyed George IV, to that port.
His machine came to grief amongst the flotilla of small craft then moving about the offing of the harbor. It is
understood that the King gave private orders to have the machine repaired at his expense.”
To again put this into context, the forever debt-ridden King George IV received an annual allowance from the
British Parliament. For him to have paid for the repairs to William Cant’s machine at his own expense is a further
indication that His Majesty held him in some regard.
Returning to 1821, the Annals of Dunfermline and The Weavers’ Craft say that Willie Cant exhibited at Limekilns –
“great crowds of people went to see his exhibitions at Limekilns” and “He drew great crowds to Limekilns Village,
in 1821” – respectively. Nevertheless, there are no reports of such events in any of the broadsheets.
It must be noted, however, that: a) Limekilns is some three miles by road from Dunfermline; and b) Leith is some
twelve miles by steam-powered ferry from Limekilns. As reported by the Edinburgh Advertiser (May 29th, 1821),
“Mr. Kent” exhibited at Leith on May 26th, 1821, starting “about half-past two o’clock” at “the Wet Dock at Leith.”
If he arrived at Leith by ferry from Limekilns, it is reasonable to assume that he would have also taken the
20 opportunity to exhibit at Limekilns after the Leith exhibit. News of his Leith performance may have preceded him to
Limekilns on an earlier ferry.
Given all this evidence and none to the contrary, it is difficult to imagine how Willie Cant could not have been Mr.
Kent, the Ingenious Inventor.
Debacle
Being a blacksmith and machinist, the cost of repairing his marine velocipede following the accident would have
been minimal at best. What could not be repaired however was his reputation. If he entertained any hope of
receiving funding from the British Admiralty to further develop his invention, they must have been dashed by his
very public accident in front of the hundreds of government officials, including a succession of the captains of all
the navy vessels in full view of the incident. Without this support, it is unlikely that he would have been able to
convince private shipping interests either.
It is worth noting that the vast majority of inventors throughout history have not been successful businessmen. The
very few exceptions – Thomas Edison comes to mind – spent the better part of their careers chasing investment
money rather than actually inventing. With this, “Mr. Kent” and his two-year tour of the United Kingdom have all
the hallmarks of an inventor partnered with a promoter, someone who has no technical skills per se, but who has the
trust of what we today call venture capitalists. These people speak only to the promoter, with the inventor regarded
as some sort of trained animal in his care.
Whether this person existed or who he was we shall likely never know. What is known is that after the August 15th,
1822 debacle, Mr. Kent disappears from the public record for over a year.
One Last Time
The Morning Advertiser (August 13, 1823) and five other broadsheets reported that:
“A few days ago, Mr. Kent, ‘the Marine Pedestrian,’ walked across the Firth of Forth, from Limekilns to Hopetoun,
a distance of nearly 5 miles. He was accompanied in his journey by several gentlemen in a boat, who were much
interested and pleased by the performance.”
Limekilns – three miles from Dunfermline. This has all the earmarks of someone out for one last stroll for “old
time’s sake.” The crowds of 10,000 to 30,000 spectators were gone, replaced by “several gentlemen in a boat.”
Mr. Kent – Willie Cant – was no longer in the public eye.
From Velocipede to Tricipede
It would be five years before anyone attempted to improve on Willie Cant’s marine velocipede. The Lancester
Gazette (June 16, 1827) briefly noted:
“Mr. James Spence, a very clever and ingenious mechanic, has just completed an Aquatic Tripod, or Tricipede,
somewhat similar to that exhibited by Mr. Kent, at Liverpool, a few years ago. The machine was used for the first
time in Whitehaven harbor on Saturday evening, in the presence of some thousands of spectators …”
Apart from an even briefer mention in the Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser (June 19th,
1827), nothing further was heard of Mr. James Spence. It would not be until the 1860s that various “aquatic
velocipedes” were invented (and, of course, patented) in the United States.
Loose Ends
The engraving shown in Figure 1 was published in the 1885 issue of La Nature, a French magazine that was
dedicated to conveying popular scientific research and facts to the general public, and republished a few months
later in Scientific American. The original title in La Nature was, “Velocipede aquatique pour la chasse au canards.
Aquatic Tripod. (D’après une gravure anglais de 1823),” or “Aquatic velocipede for hunting ducks.” The
accompanying text (in French) read:
“The curious device we represent in Fig. 1, after an old English engraving of 1823, is a water velocipede that was
successfully used during the winter of 1822. An amateur has used it for hunting ducks on the many water parts of
Licolnshire, and he has got, it seems, very good results. The system is quite ingenious, consisting of three floats that
21 are about 50 to 55 liters of capacity, and which can be made of tin or copper. They are full of air, and must be
perfectly watertight. They are held by curved iron rods, in the position shown the drawing, so that they form the
three corners of an isosceles triangle. The iron rods support in their middle a saddle on which the velocipedist sits.
The system floats on water, and supports the hunter on the surface. His legs have relatively short paddles that serve
as oars, and it is with these paddles that he navigates over the still water.”
“An Aquatic Velocipede for Duck Hunting – The curious apparatus that we represent in Fig. 1 from an old English
engraving of 1823 is an aquatic velocipede which was utilized with success during the entire winter of 1822. An
amateur employed it for hunting ducks upon the numerous streams of Lincolnshire, and, as it appears, obtained very
good results from it.”
This information is incorrect on two counts. First, the 1823 engraving refers to John Badcock’s much cruder
illustration (see Fig. 7). Second, the reference to duck hunting in Lincolnshire is incorrect. From the January 15,
1823 issue of the Hereford Journal (quoting an unnamed North Wales paper):
“Wild Ducks – These birds have had a desperate and fatal enemy, in two men from (we believe) Lincolnshire. They
have a boat, and a sort of raft, which they float along the margins of rives, or lakes left by the tide. On this raft is a
very large gun, moving on a pivot, which will bear a charge from 1 lbs. to 2 lbs. of duck shot. They follow the flight
of the ducks, and, as the aquatic sportsman is scarcely to be seen, he is suffered to approach within a short distance
of them. The murderous instrument is then pointed, and as many as fifty have been killed at one discharge! These
wholesale destroyers have lately been in this neighbourhood – on Sealand, the estuaries of the Dee, and Mersey,
where they have made tremendous havoc, bouting [mowing or reaping] (we cannot say bagging) more than 100
brace a day. They keep up the price, notwithstanding, demanding from 1s. 6d. to 2s. per head for them.”
Finally, there is the unlikely chance that “Mr. Kent” really was from Glasgow, in which case he was actually Willie
Cant’s anonymous promoter. He could not, however, have been the man responsible for building the marine
velocipede. If he was, he would have had to have been a member of the Incorporation of Hammermen of Glasgow.
The 1912 book History of the Hammermen of Glasgow includes a complete listing of incorporation members for this
time period, and neither the name Kent nor Cant appears among them. They also do not appear in the Glasgow
Directory for either 1820 or 1821.
Remembering Willie Cant
Surprisingly, Mr. Kent is still being remembered today, almost two centuries later. The latest publication is the
delightfully-named Fox Tossing, Octopus Wrestling, and Other Forgotten Sports by Edward Brooke-Hitching
(2015), which describes his “aquatic tripod” with John Badcock’s illustration (see Fig. 7).
However, Willie Cant deserves to be remembered for more than his marine velocipede. Willie Cant was a true
inventor, despite the negative reviews of the broadsheet editors. From Reminiscences of Dunfermline (1889):
“In 1835 he invented a machine with rollers for yarn-bleaching purposes, which machine is used at the present day,
and is found of much service.”
which was repeated in the Dunfermline Press article (November 5th, 1949):
“In 1835, Cant invented a machine fitted with rollers for yarn-bleaching purposes which was highly successful and
could be seen in such undertakings long after the inventor’s decease.”
Also from the Dunfermline Press article:
“Another of his ingenious pieces of mechanism which he evolved was used for quicker production of heels for boots
and shoes.”
which Reminiscences of Dunfermline identified as “cuddie-heels,” basically iron heels – not something in popular
demand today.
In The Weavers’ Craft (1903), we learn that “Cant, when working as a blacksmith in one of the Heuch Mill shops,
connected his forehammer with a water-wheel, and [quoting a Janet Reid poem]:”
With a touch of his foot,
E’en the point of his toes,
22 Could bring on when he liked,
A doon rush of blows.
Fig. 18 – Heuch Mills, Dunfermline, consisting of flour, meal, and snuff mills
“When he shifted to Hospital Hill6, he hoisted a windmill on top of the workshop, and made use of it in his
operations below.”
(According to the June 10th, 1911 edition of the Dunfermline Press, the Heuch [or Heugh] Mills were erected
between 1781 and 1787, ands were water-powered until 1819, when a steam engine was installed for mill operation
during the summer months when there was insufficient water available. Janel Reid therefore likely wrote her poem
prior to this date.)
Interesting, you might say, but what Willie Cant really deserves to be remembered for is his contribution to modernday industrial weaving.
Beaming is the process of winding threads from individual bobbins onto a warp beam (Fig. 19) that hand weavers or
power looms then used (Fig. 20).
6
Speaking of hospitals, Dunfermline suffered a cholera epidemic in 1832 (Reminiscences of Dunfermline). In six
weeks, there were 349 cases and 158 deaths. Willie Cant’s sister-in-law, a woman known only as Brunton, was the
head nurse at the temporary hospital. She deserves to be remembered for her compassion and, above all, bravery.
23 Fig. 19 – Beaming machine.
Fig. 20 – Hand weaving.
From The Weavers’ Craft:
“In 1840, the weaving craft offered a prize of ₤10 for the best form of a machine for beaming, and the designs of
Robert Lawson and James Robertson were so nearly equal in fitness and so much esteemed that the prize of ₤10 was
divided between the two. Neither of these two designs were ever adopted – that of William Cant was recognized as
not only the best suited for the purpose, but the simplest and most easily managed.”
This was echoed in Reminiscences of Dunfermline:
“… the first machine that was ever tried for beaming webs … “It proved exceedingly useful, was a great success,
and saved much time and labour to the weaving community.”
A full description of this machine is presented in Appendix C, from Chalmer’s 1844 book, Historical and Statistical
Account of Dunfermline, Volume 1 (which incidentally refers to “… Wm. Kent, an ingenious mechanic in
Dunfermline …”).
This alone should have ensured Willie Cant’s name in the history of weaving technology, but as noted in
Reminiscences of Dunfermline:
“Had he secured some of his inventions, by patent or otherwise – such as the one for more rapid manufacture of
‘cuddie-heels’ for boots and shoes – it might have been of great pecuniary benefit to him and his family; but his
ideas were eagerly caught up and acted upon by others, and Willie, alas! in spite of his varied talents, always
remained ‘poor as a church mouse’.”
But Willie Cant’s story does not end here as one of lost opportunities. Continuing from The Weavers’ Craft:
“The invention [i.e., the beaming machine] was fitted up at first in a weaving-shop at top of Moodie Street, east side
(in the ground floor of the house where Dr. Andrew Carnegie was born five years before). Here the weavers
continued for years to bring their beams and to assist in having their webs rolled on.”
24 Fig. 21 – Carnegie Cottage, Dunfermline, circa 1900.
That would be Dr. Andrew Carnegie, later to become the world’s richest man and perhaps great philanthropist. The
building still stands today as the Andrew Carnegie Birthplace Museum (Fig. 22).
Fig. 22 – Carnegie Cottage, Dunfermline.
It gets stranger still. According to J. B. Mackie’s 1916 book, Andrew Carnegie: His Dunfermline Ties and
Benefactions (pp. 41-42):
“In Mr. Carnegie’s early days, William Cant, the man of inventive genius, who constructed a machine that enabled
him to walk on the sea, and who attracted the kindly notice of George IV, when that monarch visited Edinburgh, had
his workshop on Priory Lane – in part of the yard behind the Carnegie dwelling-house. A little further eastwards, on
the other side of the street, William Gibson had his smithy. Both places were frequented by boys in the long winter
25 nights, more especially when the weather was wet and outside games were impossible. Still more attractive in those
dull nights were the weavers’ shops, where boy visitors who knew how to behave themselves were kindly
welcomed, and where they saw and heard much that was for their edification. The keen political excitement that
prevailed caused many a debate to be conducted in the loom-shop as well as at the street corner; and when, in times
of push, there was no time for discussion, an intelligent boy, with a clear, firm voice, who could make himself heard
above the din if running shuttles and ‘pistol-din’ lays, was prized as a reader. Thus the boys both gave and got
instruction, and many of them, Mr. Carnegie doubtless among them, received in these loom-shop colleges political
impressions and views that powerfully influenced their political testimony in manhood.”
Willie Cant, it would seem, had the young Andrew Carnegie as a visitor on those “long winter nights” in
Dunfermline.
Also according to J. B. Mackie (ibid, pp. 28-29):
“Doubtless, as the owner of a four-loom shop in Moodie Street, which adjoined the humble building now carefully
preserved as the birth-place of Andrew Carnegie, he was a man of some standing in the weaving community.”
This was not to last, however. Mackie continues:
“Thus in dull times the rate of impoverishment for the owner of looms was much more rapid than for the ordinary
journeyman …William Carnegie seems to have been caught in a series of these exhausting experiences which in
Dunfermline preceded as well as accompanied the ‘Hungry Forties.’ Under the stress of household needs he was
forced to part with first one, and then another of his four looms, at prices forming only a fraction of the original
cost.”
Andrew Carnegie had an uncle by marriage to his Aunt Agnes in Dunfermline, who was also named William Cant,
and who was another weaver. According to the Andrew Carnegie Birthplace Museum (personal communication),
the Carnegie family moved into the cottage in 1834, and rented it from Andrew Cant’s uncle William Cant. They
lived in one of the two upstairs rooms, and had two loom rooms downstairs. They shared the staircase with another
family (possibly their relatives), who likewise had two loom rooms downstairs.
In November 1840, the cottage and property where the web-beaming machine was installed was put up for public
roup (auction). The auction notice (Fig. 21), published in the Dunfermline Monthly Advertiser (November 3rd, 1840)
and the Fifeshire Journal (November 12th, 1840), states that the land and house was “ruinous,” that it was at the time
owned by “William Cant,” and that it bordered the property of one William Templeman. The cottage owner then
was most likely the weaver William Cant.
26 Fig. 23 – Sale of Carnegie Cottage by Public Auction.
Continuing yet again with The Weaver’s Craft, however:
“In 1845, ‘Deacon’ William Templeman became possessor of the machine, and advertised on 7th January – “That,
having taken the premises, together with the beaming machine, formerly belonging to Mr. William Kent (note the
spelling!) at the head of Moodie Street, west end of Priory Lane, and having engaged experienced, steady men, to
carry on the business, weavers may depend on obtaining satisfactorily beamed webs. He also keeps a man, pony,
and cart to carry home the webs.” (William Templeman was listed in The Dunfermline Almanack & Register for
1835 as a weaver.)
Two items are of interest here. One is that the beaming machine was in operation on the premises from 1840 to
1845, despite the building property having been put up for public auction. The unemployment rate in Dunfermline at
this time was between 30 and 40 percent, so this is understandable. (The machine itself was in operation until
August 1895, according to A History of the Old “Fitpaths” and Streets of Dunfermline, Then, and Now (Pitcairn
2007).
More important, however, is the phrase, “… formerly belonging to Mr. William Kent (note the spelling!) at the head
of Moodie Street …” It is not clear whether Daniel Thomson quoted William Templeman exactly, or whether it was
his addition. Regardless, someone felt it necessary to point out that William Cant was known (at least legally) as
“Mr. Kent.” (See also Appendix C for further evidence.) This could also be explained by the need to distinguish
between the two William Cants.
Taking a wider view, there were in 1840 about three thousand looms in the towns of suburbs of Dunfermline, with
about as many weavers employed (The Weavers’ Craft). At a time when the hand weaving as a trade was dying in
27 favour of steam-driven power looms, Willie Cant’s beaming machine may have been crucial to the survival of the
local industry7.
At the same time, it is likely (but undocumented) that Willie Cant’s design innovations were incorporated into the
weaving factory machinery that would have further hastened the decline of the hand weaving industry. This would
lead, among other things, to the Carnegie family immigrating to the United States in 1848 in search of a better life. It
is curious that Willie Cant, “poor as a church mouse,” may have had a hand in the fortunes of the world’s richest
man a generation later.
In closing, it is appropriate to quote The Weaver’s Craft when the author talks about Willie Cant himself:
“William Cant – This highly original mechanical genius was no less a genial and humorous man, an excellent storyteller, and an eccentric of a very loveable kind … He was clever, original, and entertaining. In story-telling he had
no equal, for, when the facts were dry, he could illustrate and improve these in a marvelous manner. He had a fancy
for what he called ‘the halls of the great,’ and delighted to meet at times a posse of his companions and friends in the
‘sandy room’ of Rosyth Castle. Here he would regale the company in the usual liquidacious form, kindle a fire, and,
as they sat round, would listen with rapt attention to his magniloquent tales of bygone chivalry, and of the Stewarts
who ruled aforetime in Rosyth.”
7
According to The History and Principles of Weaving by Hand and by Power (Barlow 1878), there were an
estimated 15,000 power looms in Scotland (and 85,000 in England) in 1833, compared to an estimated 250,000
cotton hand looms. No mention of any weaving innovations from Dunfermline is made in this otherwise
comprehensive book on the history of weaving technology.
28 Dedication
Researching the life story of Willie Cant has been fascinating, but it was done with an ulterior motive – he was my
great-great grandfather:
William Cant
Born 1784
Married Elspeth “Betty” Cunnin in Dunfermline
Child James Cant
James Cant
Born 1811
Married Marion “Mary” Stewart in Dunfermline
Child Rosina Cant
Rosina Cant
Born 1854
Married Peter Small in Dunfermline
Child Marjory Stuart Small
Marjory Stuart Small
Born 1888
Married John Scotland in Dunfermline
Child Marjorie Stuart Scotland
Marjorie Stuart Scotland
Born 1920
Married Frank Edward Ashdown in Vancouver, Canada
Child Ian Edward Ashdown
With this, and as a fellow engineer and inventor, I dedicate this work to the memory of my great-great grandfather
William “Willie” Cant, aka “Mr. Kent, the Ingenious Inventor.”
Ian Ashdown, P. Eng., FIES
West Vancouver, Canada
[email protected]
29 References
General
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
Anon. 1821. Water Velocipede. Edinburgh Philosophical Journal – April to October 1821, pp. 221 – 222.
Anon. 1822. A Narrative of the Visit of King George IV to Scotland in August 1822 by an Eye-witness of Most
of the Scenes Which Were Then Exhibited. Edinburgh: Macredie, Skelly, & Co.
Badcock, John. 1823. Domestic Amusements, or Philosophical Recreations Containing the Results of Various
Experiments in Practical Science and the Useful Arts, Applicable to the Business of Real Life, to Curious
Research and Elegant Recreation, Including Numerous Useful Tests of Adulterations in the Materials that
Conduce to Health; and an Account of New and Important Discoveries in Natural Philosophy, Being a Sequel
Volume to Philosophical Recreations, or Winter Amusements. London: T. Hughes.
Henderson, Ebenezer. 1879. The Annals of Dunfermline and Vicinity from the Earliest Authentic Period to the
Present Time. Glasgow: John Tweed.
Mudie, Robert. 1822. A Historical Account of His Majesty’s Visit to Scotland, Fourth Edition. Edinburgh:
Oliver & Boyd.
Preble, Geo. Henry. 1895. A Chronological Development of the Origin and Development of Steam Navigation,
Second Edition. Philadelphia: L. R. Hamersly & Co.
Stewart, Alex. 1889. Reminiscences of Dunfermline and Neighbourhood, Illustrative of Dunfermline Life Sixty
Years Ago, Second Edition. Edinburgh: Scott & Ferguson, and J. Menzies & Co.
Thomson, Daniel. 1909. Dunfermline Hammermen: A History of the Incorporation of Hammermen in
Dunfermline, to which is Appended a History of the Convenor’s Court of Dunfermline Compiled from the
Ancient Minute Books & Manuscripts Connected with the Craft. Paisley: Alexander Gardner
Thomson, Daniel, 1903. The Weavers’ Craft, Being a History of the Weavers’ Incorporation of Dunfermline
with Word Pictures of the Passing Times. Paisley: Alexander Gardner.
Exhibitions
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
Date
1821/04/23
1821/05/11
1821/05/14
1821/05/17
1821/05/25
1821/05/26
1821/06/??
1821/06/12
1821/06/14
1821/06/15
1821/06/28
1821/07/01
1821/07/11
1821/07/13
1821/07/19
1821/07/21
1821/07/22
1821/07/25
1821/07/27
1821/07/28
1821/09/04
1822/04/23
1822/04/30
1822/05/11
1822/05/16
1822/06/02
Place
Glasgow (Monkland Canal)
Glasgow (River Clyde)
Liverpool (hoax)
Edinburgh
Edinburgh (Leith)
Edinburgh (Leith)
Edinburgh (Burntisland)
Edinburgh (Newhaven)
Edinburgh (Queensferry)
Edinburgh (Portobello)
Paisley (River Cart)
Glasgow (River Clyde)
Liverpool (River Mersey)
Liverpool (River Mersey)
Liverpool (River Mersey)
Chester (River Dee)
Ringsend (River Liffey)
Portobello (City Basin)
Portobello (City Basin)
Portobello (City Basin)
Dublin
Berwick (River Tweed)
Alnwick (River Aln)
Newcastle (River Tyne)
Newcastle (River Tyne)
Sunderland (North Sea)
30 27
28
29
30
31
32
33
1822/06/03
1822/06/07
1822/06/14
1822/06/27
1822/07/01
1822/08/15
1823/08/??
Sunderland (North Sea)
Durham (River Wear)
York (River Ouse)
Hull (North Sea)
Hull (North Sea)
Edinburgh (Leith)
Edinburgh (Limekilns)
Glasgow (Monkland Canal) – April 23rd, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
31.
32.
33.
34.
35.
36.
37.
Bell’s Weekly Register – 1821/05/06
Bristol Mirror – 1821/05/03
Caledonian Mercury – 1821/04/28
Cambridge Chronicle and Journal – 1821/05/11
Cheltenham Chronicle – 1821/05/10
Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser – 1821/05/07
Dublin Weekly Register – 1821/05/05
Durham County Advertiser – 1821/05/05
Freeman’s Journal – 1821/05/05
Hampshire Chronicle – 1821/05/07
Hereford Journal – 1821/05/09
Inverness Courier – 1821/05/03
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/05/12
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/05/14
Leicester Chronicle – 1821/05/12
Manchester Mercury – 1821/05/08
Morning Chronicle – 1821/05/03
Morning Post – 1821/05/02
New Monthly Magazine and Literary Journal Vol. III – 1821
Newcastle Magazine Vol. 1 – 1821
Oxford Journal – 1821/05/05
Perthshire Courier – 1821/05/03
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser – 1821/05/03
Royal Cornwall Gazette – 1821/05/05
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/05/04
Sheffield Independent – 1821/05/05
Staffordshire Advertiser – 1821/05/05
Stamford Mercury – 1821/05/04
Suffolk Chronicle – 1821/05/05
Taunton Courier – 1821/05/09
The National Gazette and Literary Register – 1821/06/21
The Saturday Magazine – 1821/07/07
The Saturday Magazine – 1821/08/18
The Scots Magazine – 1821/05/01
Windsor and Eton Express – 1821/04/29
Yorkshire Gazette – 1821/05/05
Yorkshire Gazette – 1821/05/12
Glasgow (River Clyde) – May 11th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Glasgow Chronicle – 1821/05/19
Hampshire Chronicle – 1821/05/21
Inverness Courier – 1821/05/24
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/05/21
Liverpool Mercury – 1821/05/25
31 6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
Manchester Mercury – 1821/05/29
Newcastle Magazine Vol. 1 - 1821
Nile’s Weekly Register – 1821/08/04
Royal Cornwall Gazette – 1821/05/26
Salisbury and Winchester Journal – 1821/05/21
Sheffield Independent – 1821/05/19
Westmorland Gazette – 1821/05/26
Worcester Journal – 1821/05/24
Yorkshire Gazette – 1821/05/26
Liverpool (An Ingenious Hoax) – May 14th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Chester Courant – 1821/05/15
Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser – 1821/05/28
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/05/19
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/05/21
Manchester Mercury – 1821/05/15
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/05/23
Sheffield Independent – 1821/05/19
Staffordshire Advertiser – 1821/05/12
Edinburgh – circa May 17th, 1821
1.
2.
Caledonian Mercury – 1821/05/19
Lancester Gazette – 1821/05/26
Edinburgh (Leith) – May 25th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
Bell’s Weekly Messenger – 1821/06/02
Bristol Mirror – 1821/06/02
Caledonian Mercury – 1821/05/26
Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser – 1821/06/11
Edinburgh Advertiser – 1821/05/29
Exeter Flying Post – 1821/06/07
Hereford Journal – 1821/06/06
Hull Advertiser – 1821/06/15
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser – 1821/06/02
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/06/07
Stamford Mercury – 1821/06/08
Westmoreland Gazette – 1821/06/09
Edinburgh (Leith) – May 26th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
Annals of Dunfermline – 1879
Edinburgh Advertiser – 1821/05/29
The Weavers’ Craft – 1903
Edinburgh (Newhaven) – circa June 5th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Bristol Mercury – 1821/06/23
Glasgow Herald – 1821/06/22
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/06/30
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/06/25
Perthshire Courier – 1821/06/21
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser – 1821/06/20
Sheffield Independent – 1821/06/23
Edinburgh (Newhaven) – June 12th, 1821
8.
Aberdeen Journal – 1821/06/20
32 9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
Bristol Mercury – 1821/06/23
Caledonian Mercury – 1821/06/14
Freeman’s Journal – 1821/06/22
Glasgow Herald – 1821/06/22
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/06/30
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/06/25
Perthshire Courier – 1821/06/21
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser – 1821/06/20
Sheffield Independent – 1821/06/23
Edinburgh (Queensferry) – June 14th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
Bristol Mercury – 1821/06/23
Glasgow Herald – 1821/06/22
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/06/30
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/06/25
Perthshire Courier – 1821/06/21
Sheffield Independent – 1821/06/23
Edinburgh (Portobello) – June 15th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
Bristol Mercury – 1821/06/23
Caledonian Mercury – 1821/06/16
Glasgow Herald – 1821/06/22
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/06/30
Leeds Intelligencer – 1821/06/25
Perthshire Courier – 1821/06/21
Sheffield Independent – 1821/06/23
Paisley (River Cart) – June 28th, 1821
1.
Glasgow Herald – 1821/07/02
Glasgow (River Clyde) – circa July 1st, 1821
1.
2.
Glasgow Herald – 1821/07/09
Liverpool Mercury – 1821/07/06
Liverpool (River Mersey) – July 11th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
Bristol Mirror – 1821/07/28
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/07/14
Liverpool Mercury – 1821/07/13
Manchester Mercury – 1821/07/17
Staffordshire Advertiser – 1821/07/21
Westmorland Gazette – 1821/07/21
Liverpool (River Mersey) – July 13th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
Liverpool Mercury – 1821/07/13
Staffordshire Advertiser – 1821/07/21
The Kaleidoscope – 1821/07/17
Liverpool (River Mersey) – July 19th, 1821 (Coronation Day)
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
Chester Courant – 1821/07/31
Liverpool Mercury – 1821/07/20
Morning Post – 1821/07/27
Preble – 1895
THE PORT FOLIO – 1821
33 Chester (River Dee) – July 21st, 1821
1.
Lancaster Gazette – 1821/07/28
Ringsend (River Liffey) – July 22nd, 1821
1.
2.
Morning Post – 1821/07/27
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/07/24
Dublin (Portobello) – July 25th – 28th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
Freeman’s Journal – 1821/07/26
Glasgow Herald – 1821/07/30
Westmoreland Gazette – 1821/07/21
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/07/28
Dublin (Departure of King George IV) – September 4th, 1821
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
Belfast Commercial Chronicle – 1821/09/08
Caledonian Mercury – 1821/09/08
Dublin Evening Post – 1821/09/04
Dublin Weekly Register – 1821/09/08
Edinburgh Advertiser – 1821/09/11
Freeman’s Journal – 1821/09/07
Glasgow Herald – 1821/09/07
Perthshire Courier – 1821/09/13
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/09/04
Theatre of the Arts
1.
2.
3.
Freeman’s Journal – 1821/11/14
Saunder’s News-Letter – 1821/11/08
Waterford Mall – 1824/06/16
Berwick (River Tweed) – April 23rd, 1822
1.
2.
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/05/11
Morning Advertiser – 1822/05/09
Alnwick (River Aln) – April 30th, 1822
1.
2.
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/05/11
Morning Advertiser – 1822/05/09
Another Hoax (River Lynn) – May 25th, 1822
1.
Norfolk Chronicle – 1822/06/01
Newcastle (River Tyne) – May 11th, 1822
1.
2.
3.
4.
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/05/18
Preble – 1895
Shields Daily Gazette – 1896/05/16
Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette – 1932/06/18
Newcastle (River Tyne) – May 16th, 1822 (Ascension Day / King’s Birthday)
1.
2.
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/05/18
Newcastle Guardian – 1847/05/15
A Wager
1.
2.
Bath Chronicle – 1822/05/23
Bell’s Life in London and Sporting Chronicle – 1822/05/19
34 3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
16.
17.
18.
19.
20.
21.
22.
23.
24.
25.
26.
27.
28.
29.
30.
Bell’s Weekly Messenger – 1822/05/19
Bristol Mercury – 1822/05/25
Bristol Mirror – 1822/05/18
Bury and Norwich Post – 1822/05/22
Chelmsford Chronicle – 1922/05/19
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/05/11
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/05/25
Exeter Flying Post – 1822/05/23
Hampshire Chronicle and Courier – 1822/05/20
Hampshire Telegraph and Sussex Chronicle – 1822/05/20
Kentish Weekly Post – 1822/05/17
Lancaster Gazette – 1822/05/18
Liverpool Mercury – 1822/05/10
Manchester Mercury – 1822/05/21
Morning Advertiser – 1822/05/09
Morning Advertiser – 1822/05/15
Morning Post – 1822/05/15
Northampton Mercury – 1822/05/18
Oxford University and City Herald – 1822/05/18
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser – 1822/05/15
Royal Cornwall Gazette – 1822/05/25
Royal Cornwall Gazette – 1822/07/06
Salisbury and Winchester Journal – 1822/05/20
Sheffield Independent – 1822/05/18
Staffordshire Advertiser – 1822/05/18
Stamford Mercury – 1822/05/17
Taunton Courier – 1822/05/29
Worcester Journal – 1822/05/23
Sunderland (North Sea) – June 2nd, 1822
1.
2.
3.
4.
Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette – 1822/06/20
Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette – 1822/06/14
Salisbury and Winchester Journal – 1822/06/17
Taunton Courier – 1822/06/19
Sunderland (North Sea) – June 3rd, 1822
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette – 1822/06/20
Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette – 1822/06/14
Morning Post – 1822/06/12
Salisbury and Winchester Journal – 1822/06/17
Stamford Mercury – 1822/06/14
Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette – 1874/04/04
Sunderland Daily Echo and Shipping Gazette – 1932/06/18
Taunton Courier – 1822/06/19
Durham (River Wear) – June 7th, 1822
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Bristol Mercury – 1822/06/22
Durham County Advertiser – 1822/06/15
Hampshire Chronicle – 1821/06/24
Morning Advertiser – 1822/06/18
Morning Chronicle – 1822/06/18
Oxford Journal – 1821/06/22
Perthshire Courier – 1822/06/25
Stamford Mercury – 1822/06/21
35 9. Taunton Courier – 1822/06/26
10. Worcester Journal – 1822/06/27
York (River Ouse) – June 14th, 1822
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
10.
11.
12.
13.
14.
15.
Bath Chronicle and Weekly Gazette – 1822/06/27
Cambridge Chronicle and Journal – 1822/06/28
Devizes and Wiltshire Gazette – 1822/06/27
Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette – 1822/07/05
Morning Post – 1822/06/28
Norfolk Chronicle – 1822/06/29
Oxford University and City Herald – 1822/06/29
Public Ledger and Daily Advertiser – 1822/07/02
Royal Cornwall Gazette – 1822/07/06
Sheffield Independent – 1822/05/18
Sheffield Independent – 1922/06/30
Staffordshire Advertiser – 1822/06/29
Stamford Mercury – 1822/06/21
Yorkshire Evening Post – 1909/11/20
Yorkshire Gazette – 1822/06/15
Hull (North Sea) – June 27th, 1822
1.
Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette – 1822/06/28
Hull (North Sea) – July 1st
1.
Hull Advertiser and Exchange Gazette – 1822/06/28
Edinburgh – August 15th, 1822
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
Anonymous – 1822
Annals of Dunfermline – 1879
Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser – 1822/08/26
Dunfermline Press – 1949/11/05
Reminiscences of Dunfermline – 1889
Robert Mudie – 1822
The Scots Magazine – 1822/10/01
The Weavers’ Craft – 1903
Edinburgh –August, 1823
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
Bristol Mirror – 1823/08/23
Lancashire Gazette – 1823/09/06
Morning Advertiser – 1823/08/13
Morning Post – 1823/08/13
Royal Cornwall Gazette – 1823/08/23
Salisbury and Winchester Journal – 1823/08/18
From Velocipede to Tricipede
1.
2.
Lancaster Gazette – 1827/06/16
Cumberland Pacquet and Ware’s Whitehaven Advertiser – 1827/06/19
Loose Ends
1.
2.
Anon. 1885. An Aquatic Velocipede for Duck Hunting. Scientific American Supplement No. 483 (April 4th,
1885).
McFeat, W. 1822. The Glasgow Directory: Containing a List of the Merchants, Manufacturers, Traders in the
City and Suburbs, Corrected Till July 1820. Glasgow: W. Lang.
36 3.
4.
5.
6.
McFeat, W. 1823. The Glasgow Directory: Containing a List of the Merchants, Manufacturers, Traders in the
City and Suburbs, Corrected Till July 182. Glasgow: W. Lang.
Hereford Journal – 1823/01/15
Lumsden, Harry, and Rev. P. Henderson Aitken. 1912. History of the Hammermen of Glasgow – A Study
Typical of the Scottish Craft Life and Organization. Paisley: Alexander Gardner.
Tissander, Gastion, Ed. 1885. La Nature: Revue des Sciences, 13 Année, Premier Semestre, pp. 128-129
(cnum.cnam.fr).
Remembering Willie Cant
1.
2.
3.
4.
5.
6.
7.
8.
9.
Anon. 1835. The Dunfermline Almanack & Register for 1835, Being the Third After Leap Year: Containing
Many Useful Lists, Connected with the Western District of Fife, the Counties of Clackmann & Kinross, and the
Culross District of Perth-Shire, Comprising Public Offices, Civil and Religious Institutions, Fairs, Roads,
Carriers, Shipping, &c. Dunfermline: J. Miller and son.
Barrow, A. 1878. The History and Principles of Weaving by Hand and by Power. London: Sampsno Low,
Marston, Searle, & Rivington.
Brooke-Hitching, Edward. 2015. Fox Tossing, Octopus Wrestling, and Other Forgotten Sports. London: Simon
& Schuster.
Chalmers, Peter. 1844. Historical and Statistical Account of Dunfermline, Volume 1. Edinburgh: William
Blackwood and Sons.
Dunfermline Monthly Advertiser – 1840/11/03
Dunfermline Press – 1911/06/10
Fifeshire Journal – 1840/11/12
Mackie, J. B. 1916. Andrew Carnegie: His Dunfermline Ties and Benefactions. Dunfermline: Dunfermline
Journal Printing Works.
Pitcairn, S. 2007. A History of the Old “Fitpaths” and Streets of Dunfermline. Dunfermline: Pitcairn
Publications.
37 Appendix A – John Babcock’s Domestic Amusements (1823)
38 39 40 41 42 43 Appendix B – Durham County Advertiser (June 15th, 1822)
44 45 Appendix C – William Kent’s Beaming Machine
The following text is transcribed from Peter Chalmer’s 1844 book, Historical and Statistical Account of
Dunfermline, Volume 1, pages 370-371.
“Another plan was offered for competition by Wm. Kent, an ingenious mechanic in Dunfermline, whereby a web
can be beamed by one person. It has been much improved since that period, and is now greatly used. It is exhibited
in fig. 2, Plate VIII., and may thus be described.
Fig. C1 – William Kent’s beaming machine.
A A.
B B.
a, a.
b, b.
C, C.
D D.
c, c.
E, E.
F F.
G.
H.
The main frame for holding the machinery.
The yarn-beam on which the yarn is beamed.
Top or smoothing roller, above the yarn-beam, which presses and smoothes the yarn upon it.
Two small levers, to keep this roller steady, and regulate its pressure.
The gearing, attached to the yarn-beam, for putting in motion the whole machinery.
The hanger, and frame, into which work,
Two centre pulleys for the yarn-beam lying on, to ease the person who drives the gearing; with an upright
screw, moved by a nut d at top, to raise and lower the yarn-beam as it is large or small, for bringing the
centre of it parallel with the centre of the gearing.
The rolling breast-beam, to spread and tighten equally the chains of yarn as they pass over it, and thereby
prevent injury. There are three or more chains in a web.
A chain of yarns to be beamed.
A tub, or vessel, moving on a centre, in which each chain of yarn is first put, and from which it is wound
off in the process of beaming; it is turned round at times, to prevent twining or twisting of the yarn.
A pulley, attached to the roof or wall, round which the yarn passes before entering the machinery. Poles are
sometimes used in its stead.
46 I.
K K.
L L L.
M M.
N N.
O O.
The niffler frame, with ratch e at end, making a travess or movement, for building or beveling the head or
selvage of the yarn upon the beam.
The keels, or coloured marks, to aid the beamer in keeping the yarn regular till the end of the beaming, and
thereby prevent waste.
Three rollers, for holding and tightening the chain of yarn, instead of men doing so with their hands. The
yarn passes under the first low roller, then above the high one, and afterwards under the second low one,
coming out at the bottom, on its way to the rolling breast-beam.
The eye or conductor, and prop, for leading the chains of yarn into these rollers.
The lever and weight for directing the chains on the rollers, and keeping the keels or marks even with one
another. Each chain has one of these chain holders, and according as any chain is held too tight or too slack,
the weight is moved along the level, like a stalliard, to rectify it, and so to keep all the keels or marks
parallel with one another.
The alarm-bell, rod, and hammer, for giving warning of a stop in the niffler, occasioned by broken yarn
coming in contact with it, when it moves forward, touches the rod, and causes the bell to be struck.
The competition itself was described on pages 368-369 as:
“The beaming of webs, or putting the yarn upon a loom, is an operation which has hitherto occupied ten, twelve, and
even at times sixteen or seventeen men for about two hours. In the case of a web of three chains there were three
men, one holding each chain, two holding the niffler or evener, and at least six driving the beam—in all fourteen. In
order to save this expenditure of time and labour, the Operative Weavers' Committee, in July 1840, very laudably
offered a premium of ten pounds to anyone who should invent and construct a piece of machinery for facilitating the
beaming of webs. Accordingly, in September following, nine competitors gave in models (some of them possessing
great merit), and after a trial of them by a committee of three persons appointed for the purpose, in the presence of a
number of the operatives, two were selected as the best, being nearly similar in nature, and at the same time the
simplest, as well as perfectly efficient, so far as holding the chains or portions of yarn is concerned, while dispensing
with the services of from two to four men, according to the number of chains composing the web. The testing
committee agreed that the reward should be equally divided between James Robertson, wright, and Robert Lawson,
weaver, whose plans were preferred, and it was accordingly paid to them with the approbation of the large
committee.”
As noted in The Weavers’ Craft, however, “Neither of these two designs were ever adopted – that of William Cant
was recognized as not only the best suited for the purpose, but the simplest and most easily managed.”
47