Another witness (James Newland, master of a vessel, and sixteen years in the trade,) says: “Eels have not lived in Thames water as they did formerly. First observed the difference five or six years ago (before 1827), and find it gets worse every summer. Other fish are also affected by bad water, and will endeavour to get out of it on pieces of floating wood.”
Another witness says, “An hour after high water, eels will die in so short a time that I have had 3000 lbs. weight dead in half an hour.”
“I have seen flounders,” says Thomas Hatherill, “put up their heads above the water; and if there was a bundle of weeds in the river, they would get on it out of the water.”
Mr. John Goldham, the yeoman of Billingsgate, deposed, that, “as clerk of the market, it was his business to ascertain the quality of fish, and seize and condemn that which was bad; that, twenty-five years ago (1802), above and below London-bridge, between Deptford and Richmond, 400 fishermen, each having a boy and a boat, gained their livelihood by fishing in the river; that he had known them take 3000 smelt and ten salmon at one haul; the Thames salmon were then the best, and frequently sold for 3s. or 4s. a pound; now the fishery is gone.”
As early as 1307, the Earl of Lincoln complained before Parliament that the river of Wells (Walbrook, Clement’s Well, Skinner’s Well, Clerk’s Well, Holy Well, &c.), running into the Thames, was obstructed by “filth of the tanners, and such others.” On this complaint being made, the river was ordered to be cleansed.
Honest old Stowe says of the Thames in his day, “What should I speak of the fat and sweet salmons daily taken in this stream, and that in such plenty (after the time of smelt is past) as no river in Europe is able to exceed it. But what store also of barbels, trouts, chevens, perches, smelts, breams, roaches, daces, gudgeons, flounders, shrimps, eels, &c., are commonly to be had therein, I refer me to them that know by experience better than I, by reason of their daily trade of fishing in the same. And albeit it seemeth from time to time to be as it were defrauded in sundry wise of these her large commodities, by the insatiable avarice of fishermen, yet this famous river complaineth commonly of no want, but the more it loseth at one time it gaineth at another.”
The immense traffic carried on in the winding Thames will never allow of its being stored with “fat sweet” fish as in Stowe’s time; but still we hope the great changes which are in progress will at least turn this mighty common sewer into something more like the ancient “silver Thames” which our old poets sang about, and prevent so many dead and dying eels being baked up into pies, and devoured by the poor purchasers of these dangerous dainties, as there now are.
Mr. Simon’s report to the City Commissioners of Sewers will, if we mistake not, do more towards arousing the inhabitants of London to agitate for pure air and sweet water, than any other remonstrance has hitherto done. It is clearly, ably, and powerfully drawn up; and done in such terse and simple language, that a child can understand it.
The following graphic description of the Babel of sounds heard at Billingsgate, is from Mayhew’s London Labour and the London Poor, a work revealing more of the real life in London in the streets, courts, and alleys, than was ever before made known:
“All are bawling together—salesmen, and hucksters of provisions, capes, hardware, and newspapers—till the place is a perfect Babel of competition. ‘Ha-a-ansome cod! best in the market! All alive! alive! alive O!’ ‘Ye-o-o! Ye-o-o! here’s your fine Yarmouth bloaters! Who’s the buyer?’ ‘Here you are, governor: splendid whiting! Some of the right sort!’ ‘Turbot! turbot! all alive, turbot!’ ‘Glass of nice peppermint this cold morning, a ha’penny a glass!’ ‘Here you are at your own price! Fine soles O!’ ‘Oy! oy! oy! Now’s your time! fine grizzling sprats! all large and no small!’ ‘Hullo! hullo here! beautiful lobsters! good and cheap! fine cock crabs all alive O!’ ‘Five brill and one turbot—have that lot for a pound! come and look at ’em, governor; you won’t see a better sample in the market.’ ‘Here, this way! this way for splendid skate! skate O! skate O!’ ‘Had-had-had-had-haddick! all fresh and good!’ ‘Currant and meat puddings! ha’penny each!’ ‘Now, you mussel-buyers, come along! come along! come along! now’s your time for your fine fat mussels!’ ‘Here’s food for the belly and clothes for the back, but I sell food for the mind’ (shouts the newspaper vender). ‘Here’s smelt O!’ ‘Here ye are, fine Finney haddick!’ ‘Hot soup! nice pea-soup! a-all hot! hot!’ ‘Ahoy! ahoy here! live plaice! all alive O!’ ‘Now or never! whelk! whelk! whelk! whelk.’ ‘Who’ll buy brill O! brill O!’ ‘Capes! waterproof capes! sure to keep the wet out! a shilling a-piece!’ ‘Eels O! eels O! Alive! alive O!’ ‘Fine flounders, a shilling a lot! Who’ll buy this prime lot of flounders?’ ‘Shrimps! shrimps! fine shrimps!’ ‘Wink! wink! wink!’ ‘Hi! hi-i! here you are, just eight eels left, only eight!’ ‘O ho! O ho! this way—this way—this way! Fish alive! alive! alive O!’ ”