I was apprenticed early (probably at the age of 11 or 12, in 1830 or 1831) to one Toby Duffell, a gun-lock filer, and also a publican, living on the Leas, near the Ranters’ Chapel, in Darlaston … I … bolted, and, for the time, cut his acquaintance and lock-filing. Having made my escape, I wandered along the Leisures until I was lucky enough to find employment at half-a-crown a week on the fly-boat running to Worcester. My business was to take the shift either day or night in driving the towing horses. After some time I learned to steer the boat, and gave up the whip to another hand. In passing the locks it was my place to assist in opening and shutting the lock gates, and as I was deficient in strength for this purpose, my employer bestowed upon me heavier curses, and still heavier blows. So fearfully was I beaten that I determined to take French leave of this freshwater sailing. Learning from the lad on the boat that, in a tunnel through which we had to pass for a distance of two miles, there was a sort of landing place, I made up my mind to jump off the boat I was steering, unseen by the man who was ‘legging’ her through the tunnel.
This I succeeded in doing, and at once made off, guiding myself through the slime and ooze by groping with my hands against the damp and dripping wall. After what seemed to me to be hours of crawling along I came to a flight of steps … (William Derricourt, or Day, Old Convict Days, 1899)
Adapted from Strike the Bell (transport by road, canal, rail and sea in the nineteenth century through songs, ballads and contemporary accounts) Selected and Edited by Roy Palmer CUP1978