CHAPTER XXV.
Great fires in London—Number of Insurance Companies—Rates of insurance—Fire-engines and firemen—Scarcity of water—Supply of water to London—The streets—Their traffic—Shops—Watering the roads.
THE transition from Matches to Fires is natural, and easy, and, during the time of which I have treated in this book, there were several bad ones. In 1800 on the 11th of February, three West India Warehouses, near the Custom House, were burnt down, with an estimated loss of £300,000; and on the 6th of October of the same year, thirty houses were destroyed by fire. On September 27, 1802, an immense amount of property was destroyed in Store Street, Tottenham Court Road. The great tower over the choir in Westminster Abbey perished by flames July 9, 1803. The Theatres seem absolutely to have courted cremation. Astley’s, which had been burnt down on September 17, 1794, was again made a ruin on September 1, 1803, and forty houses shared its fate at the same time. Then followed the Surrey, on August 12, 1805; Covent Garden on September 20, 1808; and Drury Lane on February 24, 1809. These were only the principal conflagrations during the decade; there were, of course, as many minor ones as ever. Take one instance—the list of fires within the Bills of Mortality for 1807. In the twelve months there were 375 fires and 356 chimney alarms.
None could complain of want of Insurance Companies, for, in 1810, there existed sixteen Fire Insurance Companies, viz., The Sun, Phœnix, Royal Exchange, Hand in Hand, Westminster, London, Union, British, Imperial, Globe, County, Hope, Atlas, Pelican, Albion, and Eagle. The rates at which they assured were low, looking at the duty they paid to Government—the Sun so paying, in 1806, no less a sum than £95,269 8s. 8d. Common Insurances were charged a premium of 2s. per cent., Hazardous Insurances 3s. per cent., and Doubly Hazardous 5s. per cent., or very much the present rate. And we must remember that money was dearer, many buildings were of timber, and nearly all were faultily constructed, there being no District Surveyor in these days—added to which, the engines were but poor manuals; steam, of course, being unknown.
A FIRE ENGINE.
Each Fire Insurance Company had its badge, or cognizance, which was stamped out in sheet lead, painted and gilt, and then nailed on to the house insured—probably as an advertisement of the Company. There was no Fire Brigade, properly so called—that did not come till 1832; but each Company kept a staff of firemen and engines. We have seen that these men acted as constables when Sir Francis Burdett was released from prison. Although the dress was of somewhat similar pattern, its colour, &c., was left to the individual fancy of each Company—the illustration I have given, being the uniform of the Sun Fire Insurance Company. The coat, waistcoat, and breeches, were of dark blue cloth with brass buttons, whilst a brass badge adorned both his left arm, and his helmet. This latter was made of horse hide, strengthened by cross bars of metal; its inside was of leather, quilted and stuffed with wool, to protect the head from falling bricks or spars. The engines were manuals, and carried with them spare men to relieve those pumping, when they were tired. The most powerful engine of that time could only throw a ton of water per minute through a ½ inch branch, or nozzle, and, as we see, the fire-plug was simply pulled up, and the water very wastefully supplied.
A FIREMAN—1805.
Water, by the by, was somewhat scarce, and certainly not good. Drinking water was mainly supplied from pumps, both public and private, and when we see the arrangement of pumps, in the country, nowadays, how, in order to be near the house, they are, generally, thoughtlessly placed in close approximation to the cesspool—we can imagine, in some degree, what the supply of drinking water must have been like in crowded London, with its defective drainage, and its festering graveyards. There was a supply, to certain districts, of New River water. Some yet flowed from the heights of Hampstead, and there were also the Water Works at London Bridge, which were inaugurated by the “Dutchman,” Peter Moritz, in 1582, and which continued to pump up the muddy, sewaged water, until the new bridge was built. They are thus described in a contemporary work (1802): “The Water Works, on the north-west side of the Bridge, supply a considerable part of London with water for domestic purposes, in the same manner as is effected by the New River. But as London Bridge lies very low, the water requires to be forced up to a bason on the top of a tower, 120 feet in height. From this bason, it again descends into the main pipes, and is conveyed in all directions through the town. The water is raised by the action of four great wheels, which are turned by the stream, and every turn of the four wheels causes 114 strokes of the piston rods—by this means 40 to 50,000 hogsheads of water are raised every 24 hours.”
There was yet another water supply, which was obtained from pumps and springs, and which afforded a livelihood to many hard-working, and industrious, men. Perhaps, one of the last places in the vicinity of London thus supplied, was Hampstead—a neighbourhood noted for springs, where the water used to be thus fetched from the “Conduit Meads” and other places, and retailed at 1d. or 2d. per bucket, according to distance. This only ceased when the Midland Railway ran a tunnel underneath the spring, and destroyed it.
DRINKING WATER SUPPLY—1802.
The water supply from the Thames, and New River, it must be remembered, was only turned on three times a week.
The Streets of London in 1804 are thus contemporaneously described: “It may well excite our admiration to go from Charing Cross to the Exchange, and pass a double row of carriages, one coming, another going, with scarcely an intermission. Yet, when we recollect the numerous causes that put so many things, and persons, in motion, we may admire, but must own it was to be expected. Not only are the streets filled with carriages, but with foot passengers; so that the great thoroughfares of London appear like a moving multitude, or a daily fair. To this deception the endless shops lend their aid; it is, indeed, the remark of strangers in general, that London is a continual fair. The display made by the traders, the numerous wares they have to sell, and the continual crowd that is passing and re-passing, forcibly contribute to the delusion.”
Yet the streets were narrow, or at least we think them so, for we have always to widen them for the perpetually increasing traffic; and the shops could in no ways at all compare with ours. Small panes of glass, and small windows were not calculated to show off the traders’ wares to advantage. Even the contemporary guide-books, can give no shops of particular excellence—except those which sold keramic ware. In this, that particular portion of the century was pre-eminent, and one longs to have had a stroll, looking in first at Wedgwood’s warehouse in St. James’s Square, then at the Worcester China Warehouse, Coventry Street; from thence to the show rooms of Derby china, in Henrietta Street, Covent Garden; and finishing up with Spode’s exposition of Staffordshire ware, in Portugal Street.
The streets were not over well scavenged, and, as I have before said, sewers did not obtain much more than in the main thoroughfares. These, too, were watered in the summer, by means of a wooden tank hung below the axle-tree of a pair of wheels, delivering the water from a perforated wooden box at its back. “The Watering Cart is usually drawn by one horse, but on some roads two horses are applied, when the leader is rode by a boy, and the driver sits on the seat upon the cart. In districts contiguous to ponds, the carts are driven into the water, and are filled very expeditiously; but where they have not this convenience, they are obliged to supply them with water from the pump, which is hard labour for two men.”
