THE SILENT HIGHWAY.
THE Thames, the great river of England, which enriches London with the
cargoes of its thousand ships, weekly, rises in the southeastern slopes
of the Cotswold Hills. For about twenty miles it belongs wholly to
Gloucestershire, when for a short distance it divides that county from
Wiltshire. It then separates Berkshire first from Oxfordshire, and then
from Buckinghamshire. It afterward divides the counties of Surrey and
Middlesex, and to its mouth those of Kent and Essex.
It falls into the sea at the Nore, which is about one hundred and ten
miles nearly due east from the source, and about twice that distance
measured along the windings of the river.
From having no sandbar at its mouth like the Mersey outside of
Liverpool, it is navigable for sea vessels to London bridge, a distance
of forty-five miles from the Nore, or nearly a fourth of its entire
length. The area of the basin drained by the Thames is estimated at
about six thousand five hundred miles.
The progress of half a century has made wonderful changes in the river.
Wharves have taken the place of trim gardens, and the dirty coal scow
is now found where the nobleman's state barge formerly anchored.
No man, it is said, can count the national debt of England, but who can
give an adequate idea of the number of millions of tons that annually
pass through this highway?
The flow of land water through Teddington Weir is annually 800,000,000
gallons. This is the main body of the river within the metropolitan
area, not counting the additions it receives from rain-falls and other
sources.
Since the removal of the old London Bridge, the tide has been lower
upon an average. Shoals have been brought to light, before unknown, and
the result has been that nothing but a most constant and unremitting
dredging has enabled the Thames Conservancy Board to keep the river
navigable.
It requires but a glance at Blackfriar's Bridge to determine how much
longer it will take to remove all the gravel from the bed of the river,
and leave the solid London clay as its bed.
Every old bridge when removed leaves so many tons of gravel which
eventually finds its way to the mouth of the Thames, and there forms
shoals.
The channel of the river thus deepened, becomes more and more brackish
every year, and it can be but a question of time, as to how and from
what source the inhabitants are to derive their water supply for
drinking purposes.
At the East India Docks the tide falls fourteen inches lower than
formerly, and it is a fact that the low water at London Docks is lower
than the low water at Sheerness, sixty miles below.
At present the tide at London Bridge has a rise of 18 feet. This river
at almost any tide can float the largest ships, being 33 feet in depth
at London Bridge.
The river water when found at low tide near the city is much prized
for its power of self-purification, and is much in requisition for
sea voyages, for the reason that it contains so large a percentage of
organic matter.
There are few or no fish to be found in the Thames in the neighborhood
of the city or below, owing to the impurities prevailing from drainage
and sewage. This fact is particularly to be noticed in the vicinity of
the town of Barking on the Thames, where is located the outfall for
all the sewage of dirty London. Formerly salmon were very plentiful at
the Nore, and the last one there caught sold at fifteen shillings per
pound.
The Thames embankment, which was first proposed by Sir Christopher
Wren, the architect of St. Paul's Cathedral, is now almost completed.
This magnificent roadway, one of the finest in Europe, and which gives
the modern observer some conception of what the Appian Way or Via Sacra
were in the palmy day of ancient Rome, is fifty feet broad, and three
and a half feet above the highest high-water mark. The embankment,
which is constructed of Portland stone, and extends on the Surrey side
from Westminster to Vauxhall bridge, a distance of nearly a mile, and
on the Middlesex shore from Westminster to Blackfriar's bridge, a
distance of fully a mile. The embankment is lined on both sides with
trees which throw a pleasant shade under the summer sun, and serve to
protect the thousands of people of both sexes, who seek in the evening
a breath of fresh air always grateful to the tired and sweltering
citizen.
At different points, on both sides of the river, the embankment has
magnificent stone terraces with stone stairs to enable wayfarers,
who seek transportation up and down the river, to get on and off the
numerous ferry boats that swarm and ply all over the Thames from
Richmond to Rotherhithe.
A description of the Thames tunnel, now closed to the public, may
appropriately be included in this chapter. It was commenced by a
joint stock company in 1824, after designs by Sir Isambard Brunel.
Early in December, 1825, the first horizontal shaft was sunk. The
difficulties encountered in the construction of the great engineering
work can scarcely be overestimated. For a distance of five hundred and
forty-four feet all went well, but at this point the river burst into
the shaft, while the workmen were at labor, filling the excavation
entirely in fifteen minutes, but fortunately no lives were lost. With
great difficulty the water was pumped out and work resumed.
After adding fifty-two feet to the original length of the shaft, the
turbid Thames again broke through.
Six men by this accident were smothered in the rush of angry waters,
the remaining laborers escaping. Thrice again the river broke into the
succeeding excavations, and at length the tunnel was completed to the
Wapping side of the river.
Here a shaft was sunk from the surface to meet it. In sinking this
shaft, three distinct lines of piles, showing the existence of wharves
below the present level of the Thames, were discovered.
March 25, 1843, nineteen years after its commencement, this monument
of British stupidity and dogged obstinacy, the Tunnel, was opened to
the London public. As an investment it has never paid a dollar; as a
convenience it was a swindle on the general public, but for the wild
Arabs of London, and the lowest order of shameful women, it rivaled
the infamous Adelphi Arches as a rendezvous; calling into existence a
distinct class known as "Tunnel Thieves," who, conscious of the fact
that strangers would naturally visit this much lauded work, were always
waiting in secret hiding places to plunder the unsuspecting visitor of
his watch or valuables.
To take the place of this absurd tunnel, a Thames Subway has been
devised, starting at Tower Hill, and continuing under the bed of the
river to a point near Blackfriar's Bridge. The Thames subway is in a
manner similar to the Pneumatic Railway. Shafts are sunk on either side
of the river, and vehicles constructed like a horse railway car, are
used to convey passengers to and fro under the river, for a fare of two
pence per head. These vehicles are lighted by lamps, and a conductor is
attached to each car. Powerful engines at either end furnish the force
which propels these underground vehicles.
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