One hundred years ago
LONDON was visited on Sunday night by a snowstorm of unusual severity. The soft white fluff fell continuously for eight hours, and on Monday morning there were eight inches of snow upon the ground. That was nuisance enough, for London is too vast to be cleansed of snow, except at unendurable expense, and the organisation for clearing the main arteries for traffic is never ready in time; but on this occasion there was another cause of suffering. The snow was unusually wet — that is, heavy. It crushed the branches, and even the trees, smashed in all leads upon which it was thrown in clearing the roofs, and wrought unprecedented havoc among the telegraph-wires. The wind had loosened the telegraph-poles, and wherever several wires ran side by side, they caught the wet snow, and sagged or broke with the weight. Of five hundred systems of wire running out of London, only six remained intact; and for two days the Metropolis remained cut off by telegraph from the world. That did not matter much as regards news, though it made us all aware how completely the telegraph has superseded the post; but the breakdown interfered with all con- tracts, and reduced the speed on all railways to twenty miles an hour. The remedy naturally suggested is under- ground wires; but though that is the only final remedy, it may be doubted whether better supports, wires less taut, and more care in laying the network, so that the wires should be above instead of alongside each other, would not greatly diminish the risk from snow. It has only once before proved serious.
The Spectator, 1 January 1887
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