Parched City

A history of London's public and private drinking water

By Emma M. Jones

John Hunt Publishing Ltd.

Copyright © 2012 Emma M. Jones
All rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-78099-158-0

Contents

Acknowledgements...........................................................viIntroduction...............................................................1Chapter One Wells, Conduits and Cordial Waters: drinking water sketches
A.D. 43–1800...............................................................10Chapter Two Private Water and Public Health 1800–1858.....................34Chapter Three Philanthropic Fountains 1852–1875...........................58Chapter Four The Birth of Bacteriology and the Death of Corporate Water
1866–1899..................................................................83Chapter Five ChloriNation 1905–1933.......................................105Chapter Six Blitz on the Board 1937–1945..................................122Chapter Seven Purity and Poison 1948–1969.................................140Chapter Eight Maggie Thatcher, Jane Fonda and the Water Cooler 1973–2000..160Chapter Nine Wasteland and Council Pop: tracking the anti-bottled water
zeitgeist 2010–11..........................................................196Chapter Ten 21st Century Tap Water 2011–2012..............................233Conclusions and Questions..................................................262Notes......................................................................292

CHAPTER 1

Wells, Conduits and Cordial Waters:drinking water sketches A.D. 43–1800

Your Petitioners doe humbly desire, for that there is great defectof water, in the said conduits: and that it is a generall grieuance,to the whole City ...

(Water-Tankerd-Bearers, Citie of London, 1621)

From the Roman City and throughout the incremental introductionof piped domestic water from the late sixteenth until themid-nineteenth century, most Londoners' water depended onvast quantities of daily labour, either expended by them or byothers on their behalf. This chapter draws a historical map ofsome of the urban spaces tied closely to water access and traceswhen and where the issue of water quality arose. Traversing thisexpansive historical terrain, we will briefly dip into largersubjects, such as the early mineral water market and spa culture,which other researchers have documented in depth. My aim nowis to set the drinking water scene in pre-modern, early modernand eighteenth century London. From here, some of the keythemes in the city's modern drinking water story begin to rippleout.

Londinium

Early Britons' settlements on the river Thames pre-dated thefoundation of the Roman city. This riparian, or riverside,community had no shortage of running water at its disposal. Andbelow the ground, former waterholes contain material evidenceof a spiritual culture. Vessels recovered from these undergroundpits, dated as early as 1500 B.C. are believed to have beenofferings to the 'netherworld of spirits'. Remnants of decayedfood, tools and weapons found within the watery subsoil playeda symbolic role in this community's culture. After A.D. 50, pre-Christianforms of water worship persisted as Roman beliefsmingled with these pagan practices. For the Mediterraneaninhabitants of Londinium, some may have viewed the Thamessimply as a conduit to the mythological River Styx, a realm of theGods. For instance, remains of the upper body of a marblesculpture of a male, from circa A.D. 150, are thought to representa water god who inhabited the liminal space of the river,hovering between life and death. Water's spiritual associationsdid not, however, displace its practical role in daily life.Plumbing was an important characteristic of Roman civilisation.

Geographically and geologically, ancient London was by nomeans parched. The Thames was naturally important for transportation;however the tidal river was not a likely freshwatersource. Underground water supplies (aquifers) served that need,as well as two other rivers (surface water). Unlike other Romancities, renowned for their hydro-geological engineering feats;Londinium had no need for aqueducts. The contents of theChalk, London's vast groundwater source, lay just metres belowlayers of brick earth, sand and gravel sitting above the impermeableLondon Clay. Within hours of digging, a task most likelyperformed by a slave, the water swilling underfoot added toresources from the Fleet and Walbrook rivers. The contours ofthe city's two hills also meant that, in places, water rose veryclose to the surface.

Londinium was the only urban centre in Roman Britain witha watercourse running through its city centre, the Walbrook. Ona recently revised map of Londinium (by the Museum ofLondon), the Walbrook river and many tributary streams can beseen snaking under the ancient city's walls and between theamphitheatre and the basilica, with the Temple of Mithrassituated on its banks just before the river flows into the Thames(near modern-day London Bridge). Archaeologists are certainthat Londinium's urban designers were more than aware of thehydrological wonder underground and recent discoveriesendorse their view. However saturated the ancient city mighthave been, were its inhabitants really water drinkers?

Vitruvius, a Roman architect, is the first recorded architecturalcritic and theorist in the west. He promoted water's centrality toa high standard of living. In fact, he dedicated an entire chapterto the substance in his famous architectural treatise: Ten Books onArchitecture (circa 20–30 B.C.). Even though Vitruvius wrote longbefore Londinium was founded and he wrote in balmierMediterranean climes and drier landscapes than northernEurope, it is thanks to him that we have clear evidence that inRoman culture water use was not confined to the indulgentbathing practices of a leisured elite. They were definitelydrinking water.

According to Vitruvius, water was not only consumed as awine-diluter to keep Bacchus at bay, it was also consumed neat:'Water, offering endless necessities as well as drink, offersservices all the more gratifying because they are gratis' (his interpretersclearly enjoyed his intended pun). For Vitruvius, not allwater was equal. He believed that the rainfall of stormy weatherwas particularly vital as a liquid. The architect's writing offersstrong evidence of Roman cultural beliefs that water was asubstance of purity and health because of its ability to cleanse theinaccessible inner landscape of the body. Ingesting healthfulwaters, according to Vitruvius, could even cure defective internalorgans. And Athenians apparently distinguished between thewater sources from which its citizens could safely drink, andthose for external functions such as washing.

Ancient springs were not always thought to be pure andnature's raw bounty was recognised as both blessed and cursed.

Environmental pollution caused by poisonous metals such asgold, silver, iron, copper and lead were known to seep into watersupplies in certain geological areas. One Persian spring was evenreputed to have caused its drinkers' teeth to fall out. Drinkingwater also had pleasurable associations for Vitruvius. Somesprings were thought to make people drunk 'even without wine',whilst other sources were renowned for exciting erotic arousal.Whatever its effect, Vitruvius' sommelier-like description ofwater endowed the liquid with a flavour spectrum ranging froma touch on the bitter to the outright delicious.

High Street Wells

One beverage that was certainly consumed in the Roman City ofLondon, and in no mean measure, was wine. Barrels wereshipped up the Thames' estuary from Germany and Spain, invast quantities. Those barrels provided the materials for theconstruction of one system of wells (a second type had squareshafts lined with timber). Once the wine had been quaffed, reusingthe barrels involved removing their tops and bottoms sothat the tightly bound strips of curved wood could be employedto reinforce the earthen walls of the well-holes reaching downinto underground sources. Remnants of this system arepreserved in the Museum of London, including fragments of aladder used for descending into these watery shafts. One caneasily imagine the staccato rhythms of bodies disappearing andreappearing from a cluster of eighteen wells, near contemporaryQueen Victoria Street (it adjoins Mansion House tube stationwith Blackfriars bridge). Although most of Londinium's wellsare thought to have been associated with individual buildings,this cluster formed a definite centre for communal water access.Queues and jostling may also have occurred at this cluster and,no doubt, gruelling journeys with water vessels from the sourceto homes and places of work. Remains of plumbing infrastructurenear some wells also suggest the conduction of freshwatersupplies direct to local buildings. Pipes were constructedfrom different materials to visually distinguish the flow of fresh,inbound water and used outbound water from the city, withimpressive sanitary nous.

Wells were not all used in the service of the greater civic good.Some wells were entirely private and relate directly to the socialinequalities embedded in Roman civilisation. Location waseverything. The labour cost, in terms of time and energy, for thosewho had to transport their water from the public source to thepoint of use can only be imagined. As the classical historian PeterMarsden summarises: 'There were three classes of people inLondinium apart from Roman citizens; the free, the freed and theslaves. The native Britons, who were free but had none of thespecial rights of a Roman citizen, were known as the Peregreni.'The Peregreni were essentially Londinium's working class.

These inhabitants' daily lives forged a very innercityexperience. They lived in tightly packed timber-frame'Mediterranean style' houses. At Londinium's height betweenA.D. 100 to 200, many of the city's population — anywhere fromcirca 24,000 to 45,000 people — were working iron and leatherfor a living. This industrial activity was concentrated in thenorth of the city, close to modern-day Moorgate, on the banks ofthe Walbrook. Waste from this industry saw vast quantities ofmaterials, such as iron slag and the by-products of tanning,entering the watercourse. Downstream of the tanners andironmongers, the Walbrook's contents would not have beenappetising to dip into, no matter how dehydrated those workerswere. Archaeologists have deduced that the underground water-fedwells, constructed a few metres away from the Walbrook,were an important source of drinking water. It seems plausible toimagine that they provided refreshment for these workers andfor local residents own freshwater needs (both cooking anddrinking).

Whilst the Romans and the Peregreni were in the bacteriologicaldark, we know from Vitruvius's writing that the correlationbetween illness and the consumption of polluted water wasunderstood on some level: 'Deadly types of water can also befound; these, coursing through harmful sap in the earth, acquirea poisonous force in themselves.'

Aqua Superior

Remains of a high-tech well in Londinium, one of two unique toRoman Britain in the city, suggest that effectively filtered waterwas pumped out of the earth close to the amphitheatre onGresham Street. Although the engineering ingenuity of this'water-lifting mechanism' sank to a similar depth to the crude'barrel' wells, a great quantity and quality of water could beguaranteed thanks to slave labour. Operated by a chain-and-bucketsystem from above ground, this water would not bemuddied by the boots of a person climbing down into the wellshaft for instance.

Only discovered in 1988, today one can roam around theamphitheatre's ruins below the Guildhall Yard. Up to 6,000spectators could be found here baying for blood at gladiatorialspectacles, or participating in less gory religious activities.Either pursuit equalled the production of lots of thirstyspectators. Calculations show that the mechanical wells wouldhave produced two litres of water per second, or seventy-twothousand litres over a ten-hour period. Though the technology'schain-and-bucket system has been praised for its earlyengineering ingenuity, it has also been noted that constant slaveor animal energy was needed to turn its vast wheels. Howmuch of this water was for drinking only cannot be known forcertain. For instance, there was a bathhouse just south ofGresham Street that also needed a water supply, but evidencesuggests the bathhouse was actually served by cisterns that drewdirectly from the underground supply. However, a design toextract water at a point of naturally high filtration through sandfiltration suggests the organisation of the resource into hierarchiesof quality for different uses and users. Possibly, the bestdrinking water in Londinium was reserved for those in the bestseats in the amphitheatre. Labour was essential to the productionof both that high quality commodity and water drawn from lesshigh-tech wells. Although Vitruvius wrote that water was gratis,this human cost of hydration was evident in this northernoutpost of the Roman Empire.

No association has been made between Londinium's declineand waterborne disease. But decline it did. The ancient city isbelieved to have been uninhabited after the gradual ebb ofRoman occupation, circa A.D. 450, until the first Christian Saxonsettlers arrived in the early 600s. During that interlude, dustsettled over grand villas and wells alike.

Middle Ages

In that transition period, some minor evidence of early-Saxonpresence in the former city has been detected — such as a lostbrooch — but these traces were scattered by transient people.New foundation stones were only laid once more when ChristianLondon became the seat of an archbishop in the seventh century.Evidence that water drinking was a common practice beyondLondon came in the form of bronze cups suspended from postsalongside springs on the 'highway'. These cups were gifts fromKing Edwin of Northumbria, permitting the traveller to enjoyraw water supplies freely.

Saxons reoccupied London in the sixth century as Britain'snew religious culture deepened. St Paul's Cathedral wasfounded in A.D.604 and during the eighth and ninth-centuriesChristian beliefs were further inscribed in churches of a moremodest scale inside the boundaries marked by the old Romanwalls. Extramurally, Westminster was defined as a community inA.D. 785 for 'the needy people of God' and an order ofBenedictine monks settled under the watch of St Dunstan, Bishopof London, in A.D. 960. When Westminster Abbey wascompleted in A.D. 1065, rudimentary plumbing conducted waterfor the ritualistic washing practices of the Benedictines. Remainsof a tap excavated from the original site are believed to originatefrom a 'water-filtering system'. No doubt general matter suchas leaves and insects had to be strained away, but it is possiblethat water for cooking and drinking was also treated to someaesthetically superior version of the raw good.

Back inside the walled city, citizens of the City of Londonwere granted a charter outlining their rights under William theConqueror's administration in 1066. During that century, theonly hard water evidence of note in the Museum of London arewater-collecting buckets dated from the Norman period,suggesting that new wells had been sunk or rediscovered. By1215 a government for the Square Mile, with a Mayor and anelected Corporation was in place. Extramurally, parish wardboundaries, such as St Martin-in-the-Fields and St Dunstan, weredrawn up during the late tenth and early eleventh centuries. Bythe end of the twelfth century, Christian London's populationwas estimated at between 20,000 and 25,000 people, making itthe most populous, and wealthiest, city in England.

Twelfth century author William Fitz Stephen wrote of sociallife at 'special wels in the Suburbs, sweete, wholesome andcleare, amongst which Holywell, Clarkes wel and Clements well,are most famous and frequented by Scholers and youthes of theCitie in sommer evenings, when they walk forth to take theaire'. Two of these wells related to locations of importantnunneries founded in this century. Holywell was the site of amajor nunnery and Clarkes well was situated just outside thewalls of St Mary Clerkenwell, which was founded in 1144 on tenacres of land. Fitz Stephen's reference to the taste of thesewaters confirms that they were drinking sources. Imbibing 'holy'water was part of Christian culture of this period, in which somewells were associated with the cult of the saints and miraclecures, many with pagan origins. The historian AlexandraWalsham describes how the grounds surrounding certain wells'became littered with crutches left behind by grateful pilgrims',who presumably believed that they had been cured. Externaland internal uses of such waters were considered to be equallytherapeutic, depending on the ailment.

Fitz Stephen's categorisation of the suburban wells as 'special'suggests that other un-holy wells related to ordinary water usessuch as mere thirst relief or cooking. Within the City walls, thesupply of ordinary, but sufficient, high quality, freshwaterbecame a quest in the thirteenth century.

Conducting sweete water

Evidence suggests that the plans to convey water from Tybourne'for the profite of the Citty' began as early as 1236 with donationsfrom 'Marchant Strangers of Cities beyond the Seas'. Accordingto William Fitz Stephen, the City's increasing populace 'wereforced to seek sweete waters abroad'. Significantly in this quote,the water's quality ranking as 'sweete' obviously suggests itsrelationship to human consumption. The project he was referringto resulted in the construction of the City of London's first'conduit'.

One interpretation of this early form of water engineering,provided by the London water historian H.W. Dickinson, is thatthe idea for a conduit was inspired by monastic water supplies.
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