London. 1858. Excessive summer heat is the last straw
the vase: between the months of June and August, the foul smells that emanate from the
Thames are unbearable. They push the British authorities to launch large
public works that lead to the creation of a sewage and treatment system
unprecedented wastewater.
Today in l'Histoire nous le dira, we're talking about the Great Stink, the
Great Stink of summer 1858.
As our story begins, in the first decades of the 19th century,
London is a thriving financial, commercial, cultural and intellectual metropolis.
It is increasingly at the political and administrative heart of a nation of more than
10 million inhabitants and an expanding empire on which the sun
never go to bed, at least that's what they say.
But at the dawn of the Victorian era, victim of its success, London must also
face daunting challenges. Largely thanks to commercial revolutions
and industrial of the 17th and 18th centuries, the metropolis experienced demographic growth
phenomenal since 1600. Around 1700, its population was around 600
000 souls; a century later, in 1800, it already passed the milestone of a million inhabitants
and around 1815 the British capital was on the way to becoming the largest city in
world. And growth continues to accelerate: before the end of the century, the population of
London will graze the 7 million inhabitants.
This rampant urban growth obviously creates economic opportunities,
unprecedented social and political trends, but it is also accompanied by great inequalities
socioeconomic which, in the absence of a decent police service or social safety net
of this name, promote serious problems of violence, poverty and, you see me
come, sanitation. Health infrastructure and facilities, to start
water and sewage systems are simply not
not able to support such a population.
What had to happen happened: in addition to the high infant mortality rates and
the short life expectancy of the industrial era, contemporaries face a
new cycle of virulent epidemics. The great 19th century mower is not
neither the plague of the 17th century nor the syphilis which raged in the 18th, but indeed a disease
still little known: Cholera. Native to the Bay of Bengal, northeast of the peninsula
Indian, and globalized by war, international trade and imperial expansion,
Cholera sows fear wherever it goes.
Without going into details, let's say that Cholera is an infectious disease that
causes acute dehydration in its victims followed, in the majority of cases,
of a quick death. In some cases, in fact, death occurs within a few hours
only after the first symptoms appear. And like infected people
get severely dehydrated, their skin and lips wilt and take
a bluish tint, giving them a terrifying spectral appearance, hence the expression
be scared.
London first encountered a Cholera epidemic in 1831-1833.
The blue fear then made 6536 victims. A second epidemic then broke out in
1848 and 1849, and caused the death of 14,137 Londoners. Only less than five years later, one
third wave claimed nearly 11,000 new victims. In the space of 25 years, these are
so more than 30,000 men, women and children who were struck down by Cholera in
the only city in London.
The medical and scientific communities propose several hypotheses to explain
the origins and mode of transmission of diseases, but also to find a cure
effective. Despite some disagreements, the vast majority of scientists agree
nevertheless to say that it is the Thames and its foul smells which are in question.
By the middle of the 19th century, the stream was indeed in a pitiful state. At this
title, it should also be emphasized that the measures adopted over the centuries
precedents to improve the city's water supply and to facilitate evacuation
household waste has had a very detrimental effect on pollution of the Thames.
In the Middle Ages, septic tanks were installed directly under the houses. These pits are
emptied regularly and the refuse is sent to the surrounding countryside
where they are used to enrich the soil, you will see, we made a video on that.
We can imagine that it did not smell very good, but at least it saved, in a
to some extent, the Thames. From the end of the 17th century, however, this system
faces population growth and geographic spread of the city
; as the London population grows, the countryside declines more and more
more.
When the medieval system became untenable, in the 17th century, we turned to the sewers,
which allow better transport of wastewater and household waste. The system
which is then privileged represents the ultimate in urban planning
and is indeed very practical, but it comes with major drawbacks:
wastewater and domestic and industrial waste are ultimately discharged into
the river which crosses the city from East to West.
Victorians understand that the situation plays an important role in epidemics
of Cholera but in the vast majority, they are wrong about the precise origin
of the disease. The dominant medical theory at the time remained the so-called
miasma, which assumes that the disease is transmitted by corrupt air and whose bad
odors are one of the main manifestations. Based on this theory, the authorities
decide to cover the banks of the Thames and the lime or other manholes
chemicals to mask annoying odors; obviously this kind of measure
has no real effect on the course of epidemics.
Mention should be made here of the important work of Dr John Snow, widely regarded as
one of the founders of the science of epidemiology. Snow conducts first mode study
of communication of the Cholera during the epidemic of 1848 and 1849.
Analyzing the statistics produced by the public authorities, Snow notes that
death rates are remarkably higher in areas of the city
served by the water companies of Lambeth, Southwark and Vauxhall, on the south shore
from the city. In 1849 he published an extremely daring essay
in which he proposes for the first time that Cholera is transmitted by water rather
only by air.
Snow bases his conclusions not on miasma theory, but on theory
germs, still marginal and controversial at the time. As a whole, the community
medical summarily rejects Snow's work, she will even shoot it even at
ridiculous. Then comes the third epidemic, that of 1853-54.
This time, Snow is looking more specifically at the situation on Broad Street, in Soho,
a central district very densely populated and very affected by the disease. After
negotiations with the parish, he succeeded in having the handle of the pump removed.
local water. The results are extremely convincing: in the days and weeks
who follow the condemnation of the pump, we observe a vertiginous fall in mortality
from Broad Street. And for good reason: an inspection of the sanitary installations reveals that a
sewer flows near the neighborhood water supply!
The scientific and medical community must this time face the facts and
accept Snow's conclusions. Despite the new scientific consensus, the powers
politicians procrastinate and always hesitate to undertake expensive public works.
Things only get worse after the epidemic of 1853-54. In his serial novel Little
Dorrit, the successful writer Charles Dickens describes the Thames as "a deadly sewer
" And he is not the only one to denounce the state of things. In the summer of 1855, the illustrious
physicist and electromagnetic specialist Michael Faraday writes a letter to The Times
in which he describes the deplorable state of the Thames, which he believes has become a veritable
open sewer. But Faraday goes further: he warns that if nothing is done
to rectify the situation, in a particularly hot and dry summer, the consequences
for public health could be catastrophic.
As Faraday had predicted, a particularly hot summer was soon to hit London. Between
June and August 1858, it averages between 34 and 36 degrees in the shade and mercury
climbs up to 48 degrees in the sun. And, something unusual in the British metropolis,
it is not raining. As it evaporates, the Thames waters drop and expose
suddenly tons of waste, trash and refuse dumped on the banks.
The smells that emanate from the river are more intolerable than ever.
This is where the press begins to call "The Great Stink", or
the "Great Stink". Despite repeated calls from citizens and the press,
authorities do not react immediately, anticipating costs
huge works to come.
What really changes the situation is the fact that the splendid Palace of Westminster,
which has just been rebuilt in a splendid neo-gothic style, is
located just outside the Thames. The odors bother everyone who works there,
including parliamentarians who finally decide to act.
In just 18 days, proving that where there is a will, there is hope, the
Parliament, led by Conservative Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli, passes a law that allows
the Metropolitan Board of Works, the municipal public works agency, to borrow
£ 3 million - the equivalent of £ 120 million in current currency,
let's quickly say 208 million Canadian dollars— and all that to finance the
construction of a new sewer system in the metropolitan area.
It was the chief engineer of the Metropolitan Board of Works, Joseph Bazalgette, that he
is responsible for piloting the project.
Who is Joseph Bazalgette? It is above all a highly talented engineer who works
for the London Sewerage Commission since 1849. At the time of the Great Stink,
he had already developed very sophisticated plans for reform
of the Greater London sewer system - plans which, however, had not yet found
lessee -
Bazalgette innovates first by combining the evacuation of rainwater and that of human waste,
two services that were previously separate. His system consists of a series
small circular sewers one meter in diameter connected to large tanks
constructed to efficiently route wastewater and refuse far enough
outside the metropolitan area to prevent the tide bringing them back to
the city. Thanks to the force of gravity and the contribution of two pumping stations
located on both sides of the Thames, this system finally makes it possible to clean up considerably
city ​​water.
The works orchestrated by Bazalgette thus spanned more than fifteen years and ended
in 1875. They will have cost 6.5 million pounds - something like 4 billion
pounds today - and will have required the use of 318 million bricks - yes
yes, 318 million bricks -
They will also have led to the complete redevelopment of underground London - redevelopment
also complicated by the construction of the metro, which begins in
1863 - as well as the narrowing of the Thames and the creation of three riparian areas
important, the famous Albert, Chelsea and Victoria embankments.
Bazalgette's masterfully orchestrated works quickly prove themselves
: when a new outbreak of Cholera broke out in the east of the city in 1866,
it is restricted to an area that is not yet connected to the new sewer system.
Investigations actually show that the fault lies with the East London Water Company, which
discharges wastewater and litter too close to the neighborhood water tank.
As almost 95% of Cholera cases are concentrated in areas served by
this company, even the most recalcitrant must face the obvious: the Cholera
is not caused by air, but by water.
In 1892, when a new Cholera epidemic hit the city of Hamburg, with
which London has important trade links, health officials worry
let the disease spread across the Channel and take important measures
to limit the damage. And yet, this time, London is spared. There's no
new epidemic.
It’s also interesting to note that although it’s largely forgotten today,
Joseph Bazalgette was a true hero in the 19th century.
It should be remembered that the Great London Exhibition took place in 1851; the exhibition
Universelle de Paris, with its famous Eiffel Tower, will follow at the turn of the 20th century.
In this context of glorification of industrial progress and modern engineering,
even a sewage and water treatment system is considered a real
triumph and as a national pride.
Bazalgette himself is knighted by Queen Victoria and his work is abundantly
celebrated in literature and the visual arts. We also see that the
Victorians recognize the importance of the architecture of the new facilities,
especially starting with the pumping stations of Abbey Mills and Crossness,
which were inaugurated with great pomp in the presence of the Archbishop of Canterbury,
but also members of the aristocracy and even representatives of the royal family.
The Great Stink of 1858 first deserves our attention because it is at the origin
public works that have permanently changed the face of London. Widely hidden from view
of the public by its function, the resolutely modern sewer system created by
Joseph Bazalgette has led to unprecedented improvement in sanitary conditions
from London and put a stop to the Cholera epidemics.
Suddenly, the Great Stink also allowed the scientific advances of Dr. John Snow
and germ theory to make headway in the scientific community. And she
allowed, of course, to consolidate the place of public health as a responsibility
flagship of municipal and national governments.
The episode of the Great Stink of 1858 thus shows that medical advances
and large-scale public works, piloted by experts and supported by the authorities
public, are necessarily complementary in the management of epidemics.
This observation is particularly relevant today. The system created by Bazalgette
had predicted that its facilities could support a population of 4.5 million.
Now the metropolitan area of ​​London counts today more than 9 million souls
; but to avoid a disaster, new large-scale works will have to be put on
foot in the years to come.
Finally, it should be emphasized that the lessons we can learn from the Great Stink do not
not only apply to London or to other major European cities.
With urban growth and urbanization accelerating in Asia or Africa,
in particular, they are current worldwide. The story continues !
Come on, it's over for today, thanks to Catherine Tourangeau who wrote this
capsule. If you liked it, tell us, you know the routine, push by
air, we subscribe, we share, we comment, that's all. I am Laurent Turcot from l'Histoire
nous le dira and see you next time.