The Story of London

by Henry B. Wheatley

The worst parts of the town were the lanes leading down to the river. The bad state of these places was constantly complained of, but we must always remember that complaints and legal actions are evidence to some extent that in the end the evils were abated.

Very little is recorded when affairs go straight, as all are contented to let them remain as they are, but when things go wrong we are all anxious to raise complaints, and too much weight must not be given to the supposed universality of these evils. We do not judge of the general manners and morals of the country by the cases in the law courts and the police courts.

Some of the evils, of which a description has come down to us, were doubtless the cause of remedial measures being adopted. The streets soon after the Conquest must have been in a very rotten condition, if we are to judge from some accounts that have come down to us.

Stow relates in his Chronicle that in the great tempest of November 17, 1090, when 606 houses were beaten down by the wind in London, the roof of St. Mary le Bow in Cheapside ‘being raised with the beames thereof were carryed in the ayre a great while, and at the last sixe of the sayde beames were driven with their fall so fast in the ground, that there appeared of some of them the seventh, and of some the eyght part, to wit, but foure foote above the ground; which beames or rafters were seaven and twentie or eyght and twentie foote long, which was a wonderful to see them so pierce the ground [not paved then with stone], and there to stand in such order as the workmen hadde placed them on the church.’ There these beams remained as obstructions until they were cut even with the ground.

Little appears to have been done in general sanitation until the reign of Henry III., but it has been said that the sanitary reforms of the reign of Edward I. were as great as the reforms effected in the law and constitution. It is satisfactory to learn that it was the example of this great King which made the use of the bath popular among his subjects. In Riley’s Memorials there are several references to sanitary ordinances at this time. In 1281 regulations were made that no swine and no stand or timber were from henceforth to be found in the streets. The swine were to be killed and the stands and timber forfeited. Melters of tallow and lard were turned out of their warehouses in Cheapside in 1283. The watercourse of Walbrook was to be made free from dung and other nuisances in 1288. Swine still wandered about the streets, and in 1292 four men whose names are given in Letter Book C were elected and sworn ‘to take and kill such swine as should be found wandering in the King’s highway, to whomsoever they might belong, within the walls of the city and the suburbs thereof.’ The Earl of Lincoln complained to Parliament in 1307 as to the state of the River Fleet, and the gist of his complaint is reported by Stow: ‘Whereas in times past, the course of water running at London under Holborne bridge and Fleete bridge into the Thamis, had beene of such large breadth and depth, that ten or twelve ships at once with merchandises were wont to come to the foresaide bridge of Fleete and some of them to Holborne bridge; now the same course (by filth of the tanners and such other) was sore decayed. Also by raysing up of wharffes, but especially by turning of the water, which they of ye new Temple made to their milles without Baynard Castle, and divers other perturbations, the said shippes now could not enter as they were wont, and as they ought, wherefore hee desired that the Maior of London, with the Sheriffes and certaine discreete Aldermen, might be appointed to see the course of the said water, and that by oth of honest men all the foresaid hindrances might be removed, and to bee made as it was wont of old time.’[189]

In the second year of Edward II.’s reign (1309) a proclamation was issued for cleansing the streets, which were more encumbered with filth than they used to be, and penalties were enforced against those who neglected their duty in this matter.[190] Between forty and fifty years after this we have evidence that one of the main thoroughfares of the city was in a very bad state. On August 22, 1358, Isabella, the widowed Queen of Edward II., died at Hertford Castle, and in the following November she was buried in the Church of the Grey Friars. In order that the passage of the body through the city should be carried out with any decency, it was necessary to enact that Bishopsgate Street and Aldgate Street should be cleansed of ordure and other filth.[191]

Dr. Creighton criticises the public regulations, and writes: ‘There are several orders of Edward III. relating to the removal of laystalls and to keeping the town ditch clean, which show, of course, that there was neglect, but at the same time disposition to correct it. It is farther obvious that the connection between nuisances and the public health was clearly apprehended. The sanitary doctrines of modern times were undreamt of; nor did the circumstances altogether call for them. The sewers of those days were banked-up watercourses, or shores, as the word was pronounced, which ran uncovered down the various declivities of the city to the town ditch and to the Thames. They would have sufficed to carry off the refuse of a population of some forty or sixty thousand; they were, at all events, freely open to the greatest of all purifying agents, the oxygen of the air; and they poisoned neither the water of the town ditch (which abounds in excellent fish within John Stow’s memory), nor the waters of Thames.’[192]

This seems exactly to explain the sanitary condition of the city, and we must never forget that the streets were cleared by means of surface drainage, which carried the refuse of the city to the river, to find its way to the sea at last. The streets were evidently fairly well attended to in ordinary times, and it is not for those who have polluted the Thames and made the streams into covered sewers to point the finger of scorn at the evils allowed by their ancestors, who at all events kept the Thames pure.

The proclamations and ordinances issued for the proper cleansing of the streets of London were very numerous, but the first sanitary act that appears in the Statutes of the Realm was passed in the seventeenth year of Richard II. (1388), the preamble of which Dr. Creighton prints.[193] From this and other sources, it appears that one of the chief evils complained of was due to the blood and offal in the shambles of Newgate Street.

It is impossible to mention here all the information that has come down to us as to what was done to secure a satisfactory sanitation, but special reference may be made to the useful abstract in Riley’s Introduction to the Liber Albus.[194]