Why are London’s first sewerage pumping stations so beautiful?
An exploration of anomalous Victorian-era architecture.
In the 1850s, London had a problem. A deadly, smelly problem.
Raw sewerage from inadequate, disparate sewers was flowing straight into the River Thames. It contaminated the water, caused thousands of deaths from cholera, and smelled putrid.
In June of 1858, temperatures were reaching over 30 degrees Celsius, and the stench of sewerage was unbearable. It became known as ‘The Great Stink’.
To solve the problem, parliament (whose business was interrupted by the foul smell) hurriedly commissioned the construction of the city’s first unified sewer system. 1
Engineer Joseph Bazalgette designed and implemented the project. His plan involved the construction of over 1,000 miles of sewers which carried the waste eastward, away from the heavily populated Victorian city, to two pumping stations – one each on the north and south of the Thames. The raw sewerage was pumped into holding reservoirs before being released twice a day into the river, to be carried out to sea on the ebbing tide.
Crossness Pumping Station, on the south side of the river, was opened in 1865. Abbey Mills, on the north, was completed in 1868.
But these pumping stations weren’t just practical (they virtually eliminated cholera), they were beautiful, too.
Both were designed by architect James Henry Driver 2, in the Romanesque style, and feature spectacular, brightly coloured ornamental cast iron work.
But why would industrial buildings dealing with something so unpleasant, be made so stunning?
Petra Cox, Learning and Outreach Manager at Crossness Engines Trust – the largely volunteer-run organisation which maintains the historic site – says it’s a question she’s constantly asked by visitors.
“It’s quite a shock when people see this level of decoration. A lot of Victorian architecture has decorative elements to it, so I would say it’s of its time. But in terms of answering the question of why a building with this function is so beautiful, we can only speculate.”
She offers a couple of theories, and an interesting tidbit:
“This was the largest civil engineering project ever in the world at the time. It cost a huge amount of money and digging out all those sewer pipes was a huge disruption to London. But no one could see anything, because the majority of it is underground. So, perhaps it’s about showing that if they can do all this elaborate loveliness above ground, you don’t have to worry about their ability to do the stuff underground.”
“London was the largest city in the world at the time Crossness opened. It was also the height of the British Empire. Maybe this was a signal to the world: ‘this is how you do it, this is how it's done well’. You know, a real signal to the Empire of Britain's prowess. This system became the gold standard of drainage systems infrastructure.”
“It's also interesting and rather hilarious to note that the decorative cast iron work in the octagon area – which is the glorious centre of the engine house – is covered in the flowers, fruits, and leaves of the fig, which was a Victorian laxative. It can't be a coincidence, they're all over it! It must have been a conscious decision, reminding people of what’s being pumped here. It’s just hilarious. I always get a laugh out of visitors about that one.”
Whatever the reason, Crossness’ elegance immediately began attracting visitors.
Its grand opening on 4 April 1865 was attended by the Prince of Wales, Albert Edward (Queen Victoria’s eldest son), archbishops, members of parliament, and the great and good of London. “It was a really big deal,” Cox says. And admirers continued to come after the fanfare of the launch had passed.
Today is no different.
“We have visitors from all over the world come to see this. Universities from across the world, engineers from across the world, people with an interest in architecture from across the world. It has a global significance.
“Everyone's so intrigued,” Cox says. “And what I find interesting is – people love this place – but today, if we were to build a functional building like this, and spend money on this level of decoration, we would say it’s a complete waste of money. But we appreciate it from the past.”
Although, it almost wasn’t this way.
Crossness Pumping Station was decommissioned in 1953 3, following the construction of a modern sewerage treatment works nearby. It fell into disrepair and was only saved when a group of volunteers came to its rescue in 1984.
“It would have just continued to decay. What they did – the pioneers, I call them – was to get the buildings listed, which saved them from being lost forever. That would have been tragic.
“If they hadn’t done what they did, there wouldn’t be anything to show anybody. They’ve managed to not only save it, but restore it, and continue to restore it. Our site is now a unique heritage centre,” Cox says.
It was the first in London, but not the first in England. James Newlands had developed the country’s first integrated sewer system in Liverpool in 1848, but his achievement was eclipsed by the scale and spectacle of London’s system.
Driver also designed some of London’s southeast train stations. Cox says: “Denmark Hill station is like a mini model of Crossness. It’s so incredibly similar.”
Abbey Mills still operates as part of the active sewer system, but its original steam engines have been replaced by electric pumps.
