HIGH BUILDINGS IN LONDON.
THE Bill for restricting the height of buildings in London which has just been introduced into the House of Commons by Mr. Whitmore, is one which we trust that Parliament may find time to pass. At present there is no power, except in the case of new streets, to regulate the altitude to which houses may be raised. The owner of a piece of land in an old thoroughfare only thirty feet wide, may erect a block of flats one hundred feet high without any local authority or public department having the least right to stop him ; while if the opposite proprietor follows suit, the street may be converted into a narrow, airless, sunless brick caiion, where two-thirds of the windows have no other outlook than the dingy wall that faces them. That there is considerable danger of such a state of things being actually brought about, will not be doubted for a moment by those who have watched with attention the latest developments of London building in the central dis- tricts. Everywhere there is apparent a desire to turn the sites which competition has rendered very valuable, to the best advantage, by piling on them structures which are carried to a height formerly unknown in London. The builder who becomes possessed of a piece of land, naturally enough prefers to put two or three houses on it rather than one, and while he can accomplish this feat by placing one on the top of the other, he is not likely to be deterred from doing so by any thought of the public convenience. The rule by which Mr. Whitmore desires to make it impossible in the future for the owner of the land to deal with his property in a way injurious to the health of the community is as follows. In the first place, his Bill declares that no building except a church or chapel shall be erected in any street, thoroughfare, or place of less width than sixty feet, which shall exceed sixty feet in height. If, however, the street is more than sixty feet broad, then the breadth shall be the measure of the height to which it shall be allowable to raise the houses. That is to say, no house shall ever be built, or subse- quently raised, higher than sixty feet, unless the street is over sixty feet broad ; and in that case, the extra height allowed shall not be greater than the number of feet by which the breadth of the thoroughfare exceeds sixty feet. In order, however, to prevent the difficulties which might possibly be occasioned by an absolute prohibition, it is proposed to give the London County Council power, if they see fit, to grant an exemption from the rule, though in case of leave being granted, it will be necessary to inform the Secretary of State. That some such measure is necessary to preserve the health of London, we can hardly doubt. A great city can only be kept healthy when the number of persons per acre is strictly limited. The miles and miles of ugly two-storied houses may make London the most squalid-looking city in Europe, but they also make it the healthiest. Speaking broadly, a town is like a prison or a -workhouse. If the inhabitants are to thrive, they must have so many cubic feet of air apportioned to them. If that is secured, it matters comparatively little how the minor details are carried out,—whether, in the one case, the rooms are many and small, or large and few ; or, in the other, whether the houses are low and the streets narrow, or the buildings high and the thoroughfares broad. That is, London can have high houses and vet be kept perfectly healthy ; but then, the ground saved must not be monopolised by the builder, but must be returned in the shape of broader streets. Whatever happens, the proper proportion of persons to air and space must be rigorously maintained. In fact, the well-being of the community demands that ground-space shall not be econo- mised, and that an increased number of people shall not be crowded on to a particular spot. But this fundamental principle once laid down, we may feel pretty certain that the love of low dwellings which seems natural to the English race will be triumphant, and that our system of building houses of very moderate altitude will be generally maintained.
Still, though we welcome any plan for freeing us from the prospect of a city of streets to which the sun can never penetrate, we cannot help for some reasons regretting that we are not likely to have a town of high houses and broad roadways. In many ways, a house of ten or even of twelve storeys is a very pleasant and healthy place to live in, provided that it faces back and front on some great park or wide open space, and is thus in no sense obnoxious to its neighbours. In the first place, a building of the height we have named must necessarily be built very strongly. If it does not have thick walls, it cannot stand. But the comfort of thick walls is almost beyond description. They afford a real seclusion, and effectually keep out the hammering and the piano-playing of the neighbours. Then, too, they are cool in summer and warm in winter, and prevent one feeling the sudden changes of temperature that take place in a climate so variable as that of England. More important still, tall buildings give to those who like the feeling of living on the top of a high hill, an opportunity of obtaining such sensations even in London. The top floor of a house of twelve storeys has brightness and clearness of air, and those who make their homes there are above a good deal of the ill-smelling mist and vapour that rises from the much-frequented London streets. Lastly, the higher portion of such a building as we have been describing is dry to an extent which it is difficult to realise from the experience of ordinary houses. If London could have houses even of eighty feet high, placed in thoroughfares a hundred feet broad, the city might be rendered, from a merely sanitary point of view, almost ideal. From no portion of these houses would the sun be excluded, and those who liked the fresher air could choose the top storeys, while such persons as object to the effect of giddiness or insecurity produced by the height might inhabit the lower. Greater, however, than the advantages secured within the houses themselves, would be those obtained outside. Streets a hundred feet wide might be so arranged as in a great measure to protect their inhabitants from the acute misery which the constant din of the traffic produces on all persons sensitive to noise. Down the centre would run a roadway intended for the general through traffic,—i.e., for omnibuses and other vehicles not entering the street in order to stop at any of the houses in it, but simply using it as a thoroughfare. On each side of this main artery would be planted a narrow planta- tion of trees and shrubs, and beyond these would be roads affording access to the houses. In fact, every street would be a sort of glorified Westbourne Terrace, and thus the hideous and distracting turmoil which now half-maddens those who have irritable nerves would, as far all possible, be banished. Of course, against such a plan is to be set the danger of fire in the case of high houses, and the difficulty of providing good lifts. Then, too, it would necessitate the adoption of the system of living in flats,—a system which we do not believe is ever likely in England to become the rule instead of the exception. London, then, is never likely to turn into a city of magnificent avenues such as we have described. Year by year, however, we may feel certain that more and more flats will be built in the central quarters. But since flats encourage tall buildings, it is ex- ceedingly important that the town should not be deprived in this way of its fair share of light and air, and that if the builders desire to erect lofty houses, they should be forced to widen the streets. Mr. Whitmore's Bill provides us with a safeguard, and therefore should unquestionably have the support of all those who desire to see the Metropolis remain what it is,—one of the healthiest cities in the world.