The phenomenal fog, which obtained at the end of 1813 and the commencement of 1814, was immediately followed by very heavy falls of snow, unprecedented in the memory of man. On one occasion it snowed incessantly for 48 hours. Few carriages could travel, and the land seemed deserted. In London, the water-pipes in houses were all frozen, and open plugs were running in the streets. Of course this water froze, and added to the general inconvenience, and the state of the streets may be judged by the following: "Mr. Maxwell, of skating celebrity, agreed, for a considerable wager, to skate from Long Acre to the Parade in St. James's Park in five minutes, which he performed with ease, ten seconds within the time, to the no small amusement of a numerous concourse of spectators."
Coals went up to any price; and no wonder. There were no railways, and the large inland beds of coal, were only worked for local use, so that London was dependent upon Sunderland, and the north-eastern ports, for her coal supply; and this, of course, came at once to an end with such a frost as this was. A remedy was proposed, but was never acted on. "Supposing nine-tenths of the housekeepers of the metropolis to have laid in coals sufficient for their consumption—some to the month of June, but generally throughout the whole of the summer season—it would be an act of benevolence on their part without affecting their interest, to sell their overplus stock, at reduced prices, to the needy individuals in their respective neighbourhoods, who are unprovided with that fuel, or who can afford to supply themselves only from week to week. This, it is conceived, might be done at 6s. 6d. or 7s. a sack, whereas double that sum is now asked."
The snow-drifts were terrible all over the country, and even near London, in many places, the snow drifted higher than the Coaches. On Finchley Common, in the course of one night, it drifted to a depth of sixteen feet; on Bagshot Heath, and about Cobham and Esher, all traffic was stopped. The Kent and Essex roads were the only ones passable. From the country came worse news. The Snow in the Midland Counties was very deep; indeed at Dunchurch, a small village on the road to Birmingham, through Coventry, for a few miles round, the snow was twenty-three feet deep, and no tracks of travellers were seen for many days. The Cambridge Mail Coach was snowed up, and completely covered, for eight hours, when, at last it was dragged out by fourteen waggon-horses, the poor passengers, meanwhile, being almost frozen to death. These examples must suffice, for my space cannot accommodate anything like one hundredth part of the snow-stories of this time.
The Thames was frozen over, and upon it was held a "Frost Fair," which, as, owing to the greater width of the arches of the bridges which span it, is hardly likely to occur again, I must be pardoned, if I somewhat dilate upon.
Sunday, Jan. 30.—Immense masses of ice that had floated from the upper part of the river, in consequence of the thaw on the two preceding days, now blocked up the Thames between Blackfriars and London Bridge; and afforded every probability of its being frozen over in a day or two. Some venturous persons, even now, walked upon the ice.
Monday, Jan. 31.—This expectation was realized. During the whole of the afternoon, hundreds of people were assembled on Blackfriars and London Bridges, to see several adventurous men cross and re-cross the Thames on the Ice; at one time seventy persons were counted walking from Queenhithe to the opposite shore. The frost on Sunday night so united the vast mass, as to render it immovable by the tide.
Tuesday, Feb. 1.—The floating masses of ice having been stopped by London Bridge, now assumed a solid surface over the river from Blackfriars Bridge to some distance below Three Crane Stairs, at the bottom of Queen Street, Cheapside. The watermen, taking advantage of this circumstance, placed notices at the end of all the streets leading to the City side of the river, announcing a safe footway over it, which, as might be expected, attracted immense crowds to witness so novel a scene. Many were induced to venture on the ice, and the example thus afforded, soon led thousands to perambulate the rugged plain, where a variety of amusements were prepared for their entertainment.
Among the more curious of these was the ceremony of roasting a small sheep, which was toasted, or rather, burnt over a coal fire placed in a large iron pan. For a view of this spectacle sixpence was demanded, and willingly paid. The delicate meat when done, was sold at a shilling a slice, and termed Lapland Mutton.
