Memoir of Fleeming Jenkin

by Robert Louis Stevenson

II. Note on the work of Fleeming Jenkin in connection with Sanitary Reform. By Lt. Col. Alexander Fergusson.

It was, I believe, during the autumn of 1877 that there came to Fleeming Jenkin the first inkling of an idea, not the least in importance of the many that emanated from that fertile brain, which, with singular rapidity, took root, and under his careful fostering expanded into a scheme the fruits of which have been of the utmost value to his fellow-citizens and others.

The phrase which afterwards suggested itself, and came into use, ‘Healthy houses,’ expresses very happily the drift of this scheme, and the ultimate object that Jenkin had in view.

In the summer of that year there had been much talk, and some newspaper correspondence, on the subject of the unsatisfactory condition of many of the best houses in Edinburgh as regards their sanitary state. One gentleman, for example, drew an appalling picture of a large and expensive house he had bought in the West-end of Edinburgh, fresh from the builder’s hands. To ascertain precisely what was wrong, and the steps to be taken to remedy the evils, the effects of which were but too apparent, obviously demanded the expenditure of much time and careful study on the part of the intelligent proprietor himself and the professional experts he had to call in, and, it is needless to add, much money. There came also, from the poorer parts of the town, the cry that in many cases the houses of our working people were built anyhow that the dictates of a narrow economy suggested to the speculative and irresponsible builder. The horrors of what was called the ‘Sandwich system,’ amongst other evils, were brought to light. It is sufficient to say, generally, that this particular practice of the builder consists in placing in a block of workmen’s houses, to save space and money, the water cisterns of one flat, directly under the sanitary appliances of the other, and so on to the top of a house of several storeys. It is easy to conceive the abominations that must ensue when the leakage of the upper floors begins to penetrate to the drinking water below. The picture was a hideous one, apart from the well-known fact that a whole class of diseases is habitually spread by contaminated water.

In October, 1876, a brisk and interesting discussion had been carried on in the columns of the Times at intervals during the greater part of that month, in which the same subject, that of the health and sewage of towns, had been dealt with by several writers well informed in such matters. Amongst others, Professor Jenkin himself took part, as did Professor G. F. Armstrong, who now occupies the chair of Civil Engineering in Edinburgh. Many of the truths then advanced had been recently discussed at a meeting of the British Association.

It was while such topics were attracting attention that Fleeming Jenkin’s family were shocked by the sad intelligence of the loss that friends of theirs had sustained in the deaths of several of their children from causes that could be traced up to the unsanitary condition of their house. Sympathy took the practical form of an intense desire that something might be done to mitigate the chance of such calamities; and, I am permitted to say, the result of a home-talk on this subject was an earnest appeal to the head of the house to turn his scientific knowledge to account in some way that should make people’s homes more healthy, and their children’s lives more safe. In answer to the call Jenkin turned his thoughts in this direction. And the scheme which I shall endeavour briefly to sketch out was the result.

The obvious remedy for a faulty house is to call in a skilful expert, architect or engineer, who will doubtless point out by means of reports and plans what is wrong, and suggest a remedy; but, as remarked by Professor Jenkin, ‘it has not been the practice for leading engineers to advise individuals about their house arrangements, except where large outlay is in contemplation.’ A point of very considerable importance in such a case as that now supposed.

The problem was to ensure to the great body of the citizens sound professional advice concerning their houses, such as had hitherto been only obtainable at great cost—but ‘with due regard to economical considerations.’

The advantages of co-operation are patent to all. Everyone can understand how, if a sufficient number of persons combine, there are few luxuries or advantages that are not within their reach, for a moderate payment. The advice of a first-rate engineer regarding a dwelling-house was a palpable advantage; but within the reach of comparatively few. One has heard of a winter in Madeira being prescribed as the cure for a poor Infirmary sufferer.

Like most good plans Jenkin’s scheme was simple in the extreme, and consisted in combination and a small subscription.