Hints from the Health Department. Leaflet from the archive of the Society of Medical Officers of Health. Credit: Wellcome Collection, London
[Report of the Medical Officer of Health for Greenwich Borough]
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first railway ran through Greenwich, rail travel was still considered
unreliable in those days and people were inclined to put
their trust in the slower but more dependable horse tram.
Bicycles with pneumatic tyres had just begun to take the place
of the old solid tyred "bone-shakers" and heavy road transport
was exemplified by the steam traction engine preceded by a man
with a red flag. At dusk and at dawn, lamplighters were to be
seen going their rounds, for gas was the method usually adopted
for public and domestic lighting. The first telephone exchanges
were being built and, believe it or not, postal services consisted
of 11 deliveries and 9 collections daily.
This alteration of London Government occurred at a time
when Britain's power and influence was at its zenith and the
golden sovereign was the world's most stable currency. It was
an era when, in road transport, the horse was supreme.
Landaus, victorias and growlers were common and travel in
town meant a hansom, a brougham or horse tram, for the motor
car was still an unaccepted "new fangled" machine. Naturally,
in these conditions the blacksmith's forge was a fairly familiar
sight.
Streets rang with the cries of the lavender sellers, tinkers
and peg-doll makers, which mingled with those from the itinerant
vendors of flowers, fruit and vegetables, salt and vinegar, the
"hokey-pokey" man in summer and the "baked-potato" or "hot
chestnut" man in winter. Having once seen him, who could
fail to remember the vendor of those poisonous arsenical flypapers
ostentatiously displaying his wares around his bowler
hat and who constantly and monotonously cried "catch 'em orl
alive, those tormenting flies"? Nor could one forget the familiar
and homely sight of the "cat's meat" man, the "pied piper" of
his day. With his basket of thinly carved, wooden-skewered
horsemeat, he would be followed along the street by cats of all
colours, shapes and sizes, attracted by his call and mesmerised
by the smell of his titbits. If the house owner was away, the
tasty morsel was lodged, out of reach, under the doorknocker
to be paid for on some future occasion. Visits from travelling
musicians with their hurdy gurdys, barrel organs or street
pianos, regularly attracted their spellbound youthful audiences.
For the average family in the early 1900's Sundays were the
"treat" days which were noted for their shrimps and winkles
and water cress teas, bolstered with well-buttered crumpets from
the "muffin" man, whose approach at lighting-up time was