Sir, - A meeting, crowded to excess, hundreds being dismissed from want of room by the police, was held lately to petition the House of Commons for a supply of wholesome water in the Serpentine, which has long been infamous for impurity and stench. The petition, signed by about 2,000 inhabitant householders of the West-end, was the result of this meeting, which Lord Morpeth, I am informed, is to present. Allow me, Sir, to enlist your valuable columns in behalf of this important sanitary cause.
At the present time the Serpentine is truly a water-hole - a stagnant pond - the recipient of delinquent or unfortunate dogs and cats - the outlet for much other indescribable filth, and the reservoir of sickening and putrefying fish. Several eminent physicians addressed the meeting held on this subject, and they most distinctly pointed out the many evils resulting from it. The Free Watermen complain that no one will ride in their boats on account of the filthy water; the medical profession advise their patients not to lounge near this cloaca maxima; and the bathers are fairly frightened away. As one of the many (for we are numbered by the Royal Humane Society at "half a million annually") who bathed hitherto in Hyde-park, but now one of the multitude who dread such a method of lubricating our skins, I beseech you, Sir, pray take us under your protection; for if you will but take up the cudgels, the matter will be settled.
Rome had nearly 1,000 public baths, well supplied with every appliance for health and luxury: London, the first city in the world, has one bath - a stagnant pool - the receptacle of extensive sewerage - the grave of every unnecessary domestic quadruped - the nucleus of malaria - the disgrace of this vast metropolis.
I am, Sir, most obediently, yours,
June 26,
T.E.
letter in The Times, 28 June 1848