An Article for the Special Consideration of Londoners.
Originally published in Pearson's Weekly (C. Arthur Pearson Ltd.) vol.1 #15 (01 Nov 1890).
How many people will be killed by the fogs in London during the next few months it is impossible to say, but there is no question that could the number be definitely stated to every Londoner, the metropolis would thrill with horror. We are so accustomed to fogs that only a very small proportion of the population of London looks upon them as anything but unpleasant visitors which entail a good deal of inconvenience of one kind and another, but which have to be endured with the best grace possible.
The occurrence of an epidemic of fever which doubled the death-rate of London would cause a panic, and yet Londoners regard with calmness a state of the atmosphere which is capable of working greater destruction to human life than any epidemic which has occurred for nearly a quarter of a century.
I say, which "is capable" of doing this, but unfortunately the fatal powers of a fog do not hesitate to plainly show themselves, as witness the following extract from the report of the Registrar-General for the week ending February 7th, 1880. The end of January in that year was remarkable for the dense fogs which prevailed, and which were responsible for the abnormal death-rate, noted in these words:—
"The annual death rate from all causes, which had been equal to 22·6, 27·1, and 31·3 in the three preceding weeks, further rose last week to 48•1 per thousand. The death rate last week was higher than it had been in any week since the cholera epidemics of 1849, 1854, and 1866, The nearest approach in recent years to so high a rate of mortality as that which prevailed in London last week was recorded in the week ending December 20th, 1878, when the death-rate was equal to 87·5 per thousand, influenced then as it was last week by dense fogs. The deaths referred to the respiratory organs, which had been 659 and 757 in the two previous weeks, further rose to 1,557 last week, and exceeded the corrected weekly average by no fewer than 1,118."
Two years later, in the report for the week ending February 11th, during which the mortality had risen to 85·3 per thousand, on account of the baneful influence of fogs, the Registrar-General remarked:—
"No age escapes the noxious influence of these fogs, the mortality having risen at every period of life; but the effect is most marked on persons of advanced life, and least so on children under five years old."
Surely when fogs have become so malignant as to blot out the lives of considerably more than a thousand persons in a single week, it is time that some steps were taken to lessen their virulence. The question is one which is now and then attacked by scientific men in a half-hearted sort of way; but its importance is of the first order. A matter which. involves the saving or the sacrifice of thousands of lives is not one to be lightly passed over.
Who among our legislators or County Councillors will make it his own, and agitate to save the weak-lunged of London fron unnecessary death, as Mr. Plimsoll did to save the sailors from losing their lives by preventible causes?
It is certain that London can never be without fogs. Its situation dooms it to a larger proportion of them than falls to the lot of most places. But it is equally certain that the carbonic acid laden pall, which so often envelops the metropolis in its deadly embrace, can be given notice to quit. The effect which a fog has upon the purity of the air is clearly shown by a summary which was given in the Report of the Meteorological Office for 1888, of experiments carried out by Dr. W.J. Russell on behalf of the Meteorological Council. The report in question states that:—
"The determinations are divided into two series; one gives tho amount of carbonic acid taken at regular intervals, irrespective of weather; and the other gives the amount when fog or mist is present. The average amount present in the air of tho City is slightly below four parts in ten thousand of air, and this is shown to be rather less than that which has been found in the air of the few other towns which have been examined. Taking the most recent experiments on the composition of purely country air as indicating that the amount of carbonic acid is as low as three parts in ton thousand; even then it seems that in the heart of London the average increase is inconsiderable.
"Further, tho individual analysis shows that the amount of carbonic acid gas is often considerably below this average, usually during bright, sunny days. The smallest amount of this gas found was 8·3 parts in ten thousand of air, and this was on the Bank Holiday of August in 1883.
"The second series of determinations relate to the amount of carbonic acid present during a fog, and show how much this gas increases under such circumstances. The average of these experiments is 7·2. The largest amount found was 14·1, and this was during a long continued fog in December, 1882. The gradual increase of the gas on this occasion is traced."
Another series of experiments proved that the amount of sulphuric acid present in the air is nearly four times as great during foggy as during clear weather.
Here we have the causes of the evil effects of fogs set forth in the plainest possible manner. The question is—Can this excess of carbonic and sulphuric acids be prevented?
Most certainly it can.
Fogs are not peculiar to London. The country knows them, but, fortunately for those who live there, in a very different form. A Londoner would hardly regognise the white fleecy mist which his country cousins call a "fog." The dense, sepulchral darkness, the indescribably horrid taste, and the sensation of langour which his fogs produce, are absent. He can breathe freely, and but for the fact that his field of vision is circumscribed, and that heavy drops of moisture stand upon his moustache and beard, he would scarcely know that any fog was about.
The reason for the tremendous difference that exists between London and country fogs may be summed up in the one word—smoke. The Londoner who is up early on a foggy morning can bear witness to the fact that London fogs are not naturally the horrible smoke-mists which are familiar to the majority of dwellers in the metropolis. Before the world is astir, and while the hearths are still cheerless and cold, the fog is white and comparatively harmless. But as the long lines of smoke rise from London's thousands of miles of streets, the white mist loses its purity and gradually becomes more and more befouled, so that by the time the streets are thronged with hurrying passengers a "black fog" reigns supreme.
Not only does the smoke which millions of fires keep sending forth become entangled in the vaporous particles, but that which is already suspended in the higher portions of the atmosphere has a tendency to descend and help to swell the volume of darkness. A fog always causes smoke to descend, because smoke particles are good radiators and soon cool, forming nuclei on which the watery vapour condenses.
As the day goes on the smoky particles continue to be deposited in the fog. The longer the fog lasts the more impregnated with them it becomes, going on from bad to worse until at last a current of air whirls away the stagnant moisture and dilutes it with purer atmosphere.
Years ago a great outcry was made against the factory chimneys, which were accused of being the main producers of the obnoxious elements of a London fog. The agitation culminated in the passing of an Act which obliged manufacturers to consume the smoke given forth by their furnaces under a heavy penalty.
The consumption of smoke is quite a simple matter. Broadly speaking, the point involved is that the fire should be stoked from below instead of from above. Some furnaces which consume their own smoke are provided with bars which revolve and carry the coal placed upon them under the fire, so that the smoke has to ascend through a red hot mass, which effectually consumes every particle of it. There are other modifications, but all turn upon the passage of smoke through or over glowing coals.
Now, if our domestic fireplaces were so constructed that they consumed their own smoke, London fogs would lose almost the whole of their deadly properties. The chimneys would not become periodically choked with soot, and altogether a brighter era would set in for every one but chimney-sweeps.
Why cannot this demon of smut and soot be exorcised from London? The benefit would not be confined to the amelioration of fogs and the consequent saving of life. Our buildings would cease to assume the gloomy and filthy appearance which they now put on a few years after their erection. A traveller returning to the metropolis 'after some years' absence would scarcely recognise the bright-looking city which ho left so dark and dismal.
Besides their deadly effect upon the health of those exposed to them, London fogs touch the pockets of Londoners to a very appreciable extent. A single week of foggy weather means an increase of at least forty thousand pounds for extra public and private lighting, and it has been computed that the serious interruption of business, the darkness, and the other incidentals of our fogs cost Londoners at least two millions sterling annually. It is hardly credible that householders do not of their own accord make the improvements necessary to bring about this altered state of affairs. Since they are apathetic in the matter it is the plain duty of those in authority to take it up, and force them to act for their own benefit. Here is a chance for the County Council to distinguish itself. Will it be taken?