SE2 - Crossness Pumping Station

Hello people,

Today I'm at Crossness Pumping Station in SE2, one of the greatest Civil Engineering achievements of the Victorian era, and a Grade 1 listed building. Along with Deptford Pumping Station, it served the whole of South London, and could hold up to 27 million gallons of sewage. Admittedly, drainage isn’t the most glamourous subject to write about, but without great infrastructure projects like Crossness, the London we know and love could never have come to be, and I think that’s worth celebrating. Besides, London’s sewers play just as big a part in its history and folklore as anything above ground...

My favourite London sewer legend involves a group of people called the Toshers. Toshers were men who used to go scavenging in the sewers for anything that might fetch a few quid, most likely scrap metal. The Toshers believed that there was a queen rat who lived in the sewer, and she would secretly listen to their conversations as they worked, and try to figure out what each ones ideal woman would look like.

'If she fancied one, she would appear in the form of his dream girl and sleep with him. If she was pleased with him, she would bestow great luck on him, and he would be particularly successful in finding things in the sewers.' Steve Roud, 2010, London Lore.

This myth, I think you will agree, is absolutely disgusting. I would need to be pretty much as down on my luck as physically possible, before I would even consider having so much as a smooch with a rat.  Also, the idea of a rat appearing before me wearing nothing but a long curly wig, a pendant necklace, and asking me to draw her like one of my French girls seems a little bit seedy.

But who are we to judge? It's very easy for us to mock, but we must remember that down in the sewers, shit literally does happen. And if this arrangement made both the Toshers and her Majesty happy, then I say good luck to them.

However, this all changed in the summer of 1858, when conditions in the sewers – as well as the world above ground - became so bad that no self-respecting rat queen would so much as let you feel her up in the dark, let alone make unholy union before pointing you in the direction of some abandoned shopping trollies, with the pound coins still in them.

The reason? A combination of overcrowding, the dumping of human waste in the Thames, open cesspits, and unusually high temperatures led to a smell throughout London, which was so overwhelming that it became known as ‘The Great Stink’. Conditions were so bad that in the House of Commons, they soaked their curtains in chloride of lime, to try to counter the smell (potpourri was still years from being invented). But despite their best efforts the smell remained, and the MP’s, and the rest of London, could do nothing but hold their noses and dream of a world where the air was clean and fresh. A PooTopia if you like.

A Cartoon from Punch describing The Great Stink 1855

The great stink was eventually ended by heavy rain fall, but the MPs in Westminster - by now probably doped up to the eyeballs from inhaling so much chloride of lime - realised that London desperately needed an efficient sewage system. The man they hired for the job was the brilliant Engineer, Sir Joseph Bazalgette.

Sir Joseph Bazalgettes, C.V. is nothing short of extraordinary. He designed the Albert Embankment, Victoria Embankment, Putney Bridge, Hammersmith Bridge, Battersea Bridge, Charing Cross Road, Shaftsbury Avenue, the list goes on. Very importantly for us SE Londoners, he was responsible for the creation of the Woolwich Ferry, and was behind the early plans for the Blackwall Tunnel.

But without question his greatest achievement (other than growing that fantastic moustache) was in designing London’s Sewage system. A design so successful, that it still serves us today. Perhaps the key to Bazalgettes success was his work ethic, and incredible attention to detail. He insisted on personally checking every connection to the new sewer system. He also designed, and drew up the plans for the huge machines at Crossness that pumped the foul water out of the sewer, and into the sea.

Personally, I find all this difficult to believe. No one man could’ve done all the things attributed to Bazalgette. I think it's more likely he either:

a) Only employed people called Sir Joseph Bazalgette, so it would appear like he was doing all the work. Or; 

b) He had an army of tiny little Engineers hidden in his moustache, who helped him, like Elves help Father Christmas.

You can still see the four engines, designed by Sir Joe and the moustache fairies at Crossness. They are thought to be the largest remaining rotative beam engines in the world. After the closure of Crossness in the 1950’s, the engines were left to rust and vandalism. In recent years the Crossness Trust has been working hard to restore them to their former glory, and you can now see one of these engines in action, if you visit on selected ‘steaming’ days.

However, I’m not here to visit the Crossness museum. I'm here because these last few months I've been on the trail of the criminals behind the 2013 fire attack on the Cutty Sark, and my journey - similar to the journey of a smelly brown Victorian sausage, has led me here. Regular readers will know that a few weeks ago, while visiting East Street Market, I received a letter warning me off my investigations. As I had no idea who the letter writer or the courier was, the trail seemed to have gone cold. That was until today, when I made a discovery that might just bust this case wide open! But more of that, next time.

http://www.crossness.org.uk/visit.html