Canal End Basin lay hard upon three-quarters of a mile up stream, and
about half that distance beyond the bend of the Great Brewery--a
malodorous pool packed with narrow barges or monkey-boats--a few loading
leisurably, the rest moored in tiers awaiting their cargoes.
They belonged to many owners, but their type was well nigh uniform.
Each measured seventy feet in length, or a trifle over, with a beam of
about seven; each was built with rounded bilges, and would carry from
twenty-five to thirty tons of cargo; each provided, aft of its hold or
cargo-well, a small cabin for the accommodation of its crew by day; and
for five-sixths of its length each was black as a gondola of Venice.
Only, where the business part of the boat ended and its cabin began, a
painted ribbon of curious pattern ornamented the gunwale, and terminated
in two pictured stern-panels.

Wharves and storehouses surrounded the basin, or rather enclosed three
sides of it, and looked upon the water across a dead avenue (so to
speak) of cranes and bollards; buildings of exceedingly various height
and construction, some tiled, others roofed with galvanised iron.
Almost every one proclaimed on its front, for the information of the
stranger, its owner's name and what he traded in; and the stranger,
while making his choice between these announcements, had ample time to
contrast their diversity of size and style with the sober uniformity
that prevailed afloat.

The store and yard of Mr. Christopher Hucks stood at the head of the
basin, within a stone's-throw of the Weigh Dock, and but two doors away
from the Canal Company's office. It was approached through
folding-doors, in one of which a smaller opening had been cut for
pedestrians, and through this, on his way to the stables in the rear,