St. Paul’s from the South End of Southwark Bridge.
Until the close of the nineteenth century London Bridge enjoyed the distinction of being the lowest bridge on the River’s course; but in 1894 the wonderful Tower Bridge was opened. This mighty structure, which was commenced in 1886, cost no less than £830,000. In its construction 235,000 cubic feet of granite and other stone, 20,000 tons of cement, 10,000 yards of concrete, 31,000,000 bricks, and 14,000 tons of steel were used. In its centre are two bascules, each weighing 1,200 tons, which swing upwards to allow big ships to pass into the Pool. Although these enormous bascules, the largest in the world, weigh so much, they work by hydraulic force as smoothly and easily as a door opens and shuts.
Of the buildings on the south side of the River practically none are worthy of notice save the Shot Tower—where lead-shot is made by dropping the molten metal from the top of the shaft—the new County Hall, and St. Thomas’s Hospital at Westminster. The County Hall is a splendid structure, one of the finest of its kind in the whole world. It possesses miles of corridors, hundreds of rooms, and what is more, a magnificent water frontage. The architect is Mr. Ralph Knott. St. Thomas’s Hospital, which stands close to it, is one of a number of excellent hospitals in various parts of London. When in 1539 the monasteries were closed, London was left without anything in the way of hospitals, or alms-houses, or schools; for the care of the sick, the infirm, and the young had always been the work of the monks and the nuns. In consequence, London suffered terribly. Matters became so extremely serious that the City Fathers approached the King with a view to the return of some of these institutions. Their petition was granted, and King Henry gave back St. Bartholomew’s, Christ’s Hospital, and the Bethlehem Hospital. Later King Edward VI. allowed the people to purchase St. Thomas’s Hospital—the hospital of the old Abbey of Bermondsey. When in 1871 the South-Eastern Railway Company purchased the ground on which the old structure stood, a new and more convenient building was erected on the Albert Embankment opposite the Houses of Parliament.
As we stand once more on Westminster Bridge and see the two great places, one on each side, where our lawmakers sit—those of the Nation and those of the great City—our glance falls on the dirty water of old Father Thames slipping by; and we think to ourselves that great statesmen may spring to fame and then die and leave England the poorer, governments good and bad may rise and fall, changes of all sorts may happen within these two stately buildings, the very stones may crumble to dust, but still the River flows on—silent, irresistible.
BOOK III
THE UPPER RIVER
