Latin for which a modern schoolboy would get soundly rated, or birched, but which tells us that even as far back as Edward I. the Fleet river was a nuisance; and as the endorsement (Patent Roll 35 Edward I.) shows--"De cursu aquæ de Fleta supervivendo et corrigendo," _i.e._, that the Fleet river should be looked after and amended. But the Commission issued to perfect this work was discontinued, owing to the death of the king. (Patent Roll 1 Edward II., pars 1. m. dorso.) "De Cursu Aquæ Flete, &c., reducend et impedimenta removend."
And Prynne, in his edition of Cotton's "Records" (ed. 1669, p. 188), asks "whether such a commission and inquiry to make this river navigable to Holborn Bridge or Clerkenwell, would not now be seasonable, and a work worthy to be undertaken for the public benefit, trade, and health of the City and Suburbs, I humbly submit to the wisdom and judgment of those whom it most Concerns."
So that it would appear, although otherwise stated, that the Fleet was not navigable in May, 1669, the date of the publication of Prynne's book.
As a matter of fact it got to be neither more nor less than an open sewer, to which the lines in Coleridge's "Table Talk" would well apply--
"In Cöln, that town of monks and bones, And pavements fang'd with murderous stones, And rags, and hags, and hideous wenches, I counted two-and-seventy stenches; All well-defined and genuine stinks! Ye nymphs, that reign o'er sewers and sinks, The river Rhine, it is well known, Doth wash the City of Cologne; But, tell me, nymphs, what power divine Shall henceforth wash the River Rhine?"
The smell of the Fleet river was notorious; so much so, that Farquhar, in his _Sir Harry Wildair_, act ii., says, "Dicky! Oh! I was just dead of a Consumption, till the sweet smoke of _Cheapside_, and the dear perfume of _Fleet Ditch_ made me a man again!" In Queen Anne's time, too, it bore an evil reputation: _vide The Tatler_ (No. 238, October 17, 1710) by Steele and Swift.[9]
"Now from all parts the swelling kennels flow, And bear their trophies with them as they go: Filth of all hues and odours seem to tell What street they sail'd from, by their sight and smell. They, as each torrent drives, with rapid force, From Smithfield or St. Pulchre's shape their course, And in huge confluent join'd at Snow Hill ridge, Fall from the Conduit, prone to Holborn Bridge. Sweepings from butchers' stalls, dung, guts, and blood, Drown'd puppies, stinking sprats, all drench'd in mud, Dead cats and turnip-tops come tumbling down the flood."
