Just over a month ago Steve Reed, Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs delivered a speech to Parliament. He recited Benjamin Disraeli’s infamous condemnation of the river Thames:
a Stygian pool reeking with ineffable and intolerable horrors.
He was referencing what has now become known as ‘The Great Stink.’
Disraeli’s speech ushered in a new age of urban planning and a complete overhaul of the capital’s waste management system. Mr Reed was attempting his own environmental revolution in September by introducing Labour’s new Water (Special Measures) Bill. This was an effort to fulfil the party’s election promises and clean up what Mr Reed has described as ‘fourteen years of Tory failure.’
But why did he reference his Victorian forebear? And what really was the Great Stink?
In the summer of 1858, the stench of human excrement rising from the River Thames reached a critical point. The Houses of Parliament, situated near the banks of river became an untenable location for Britain’s politicians.
The government agreed that urgent action was required to save the river, ease the miasma and reduce the risk of disease. The mid 19th century had witnessed numerous cholera outbreaks, which killed tens of thousands of Londoners. Many of whom drank directly from the river.
The resulting political action helped deliver one of the greatest achievements in urban planning and arguably saved the lives of thousands of citizens, of all classes and backgrounds.
A visitor to the Crossness Sewerage Pumping Station at Crossness, Kent, part of Bazalgette’s engineering masterpiece.
The civil engineer Joseph Bazalgette was commissioned to redesign London’s sewars. His plan moved the waste eastwards along a series of interconnecting sewers that sloped towards outfalls beyond the metropolitan area. Work began in earnest in 1859 and lasted until 1875. The scheme included the construction of three embankments in which the sewers ran—the Victoria, Chelsea and Albert Embankments.
The result of this engineering miracle was that sewage was no longer dumped onto the shores of the Thames. What is most extraordinary about Bazalgette’s sewer system is that it operates to this day, servicing a modern population of over 8 million.
While cholera no longer poses a significant threat, the capital does face a growing waterborne crisis. There are notable parallels to the Victorian drama of 1858: fraudulent water companies, deadly contamination, scientific whistle blowers and voiceless bystanders.
Mr Reed has made an obvious historical parallel to the Great Stink and comparing Tory failures with crises of the past. But it is yet to be seen whether this new Labour Government has the same will power to overhaul the capital’s waste system and restore the glory of ‘Father Thames.’
Regardless of Mr Reed’s Bill, It is unlikely that they shall find a modern age Bazalgette amongst the ranks of modern British water companies.
Submitted Article
Headline
Short Headline
Standfirst
Published Article
HeadlineThe Great Stink
Short HeadlineA very British stench
StandfirstWhat was the capital's original pollution crisis?
Just over a month ago Steve Reed, Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs delivered a speech to Parliament. He recited Benjamin Disraeli’s infamous condemnation of the river Thames:
a Stygian pool reeking with ineffable and intolerable horrors.
He was referencing what has now become known as ‘The Great Stink.’
Disraeli’s speech ushered in a new age of urban planning and a complete overhaul of the capital’s waste management system. Mr Reed was attempting his own environmental revolution in September by introducing Labour’s new Water (Special Measures) Bill. This was an effort to fulfil the party’s election promises and clean up what Mr Reed has described as ‘fourteen years of Tory failure.’
But why did he reference his Victorian forebear? And what really was the Great Stink?
In the summer of 1858, the stench of human excrement rising from the River Thames reached a critical point. The Houses of Parliament, situated near the banks of river became an untenable location for Britain’s politicians.
The government agreed that urgent action was required to save the river, ease the miasma and reduce the risk of disease. The mid 19th century had witnessed numerous cholera outbreaks, which killed tens of thousands of Londoners. Many of whom drank directly from the river.
The resulting political action helped deliver one of the greatest achievements in urban planning and arguably saved the lives of thousands of citizens, of all classes and backgrounds.
A visitor to the Crossness Sewerage Pumping Station at Crossness, Kent, part of Bazalgette’s engineering masterpiece.
The civil engineer Joseph Bazalgette was commissioned to redesign London’s sewars. His plan moved the waste eastwards along a series of interconnecting sewers that sloped towards outfalls beyond the metropolitan area. Work began in earnest in 1859 and lasted until 1875. The scheme included the construction of three embankments in which the sewers ran—the Victoria, Chelsea and Albert Embankments.
The result of this engineering miracle was that sewage was no longer dumped onto the shores of the Thames. What is most extraordinary about Bazalgette’s sewer system is that it operates to this day, servicing a modern population of over 8 million.
While cholera no longer poses a significant threat, the capital does face a growing waterborne crisis. There are notable parallels to the Victorian drama of 1858: fraudulent water companies, deadly contamination, scientific whistle blowers and voiceless bystanders.
Mr Reed has made an obvious historical parallel to the Great Stink and comparing Tory failures with crises of the past. But it is yet to be seen whether this new Labour Government has the same will power to overhaul the capital’s waste system and restore the glory of ‘Father Thames.’
Regardless of Mr Reed’s Bill, It is unlikely that they shall find a modern age Bazalgette amongst the ranks of modern British water companies.
London stations are exhibiting their seasonal Christmas tree, which has raised questions of whether these displays are festive celebrations or clever pieces of brand promotion.
