Brain Drain

It was just an ordinary looking inspection hatch cover at the back of the flagstone yard of the small terraced house. 

I stood and thought about whether the corroded rim of the cover would prove too much of an obstacle in trying to lift it. In many similar urban surroundings the householders would have little or no reason to raise the cover unless there were clear signs of a problem such as a blockage causing an overflow, an unpleasant back seepage or the persistence of a bad, drainy smell.

Placing my weight on it I sensed a slight pivot and rocking motion.That was an encouraging indication of a loose joint and not a seized-up one. 

Next stage was to attempt the lift. 

I was cautious with good cause as on a number of occasions I had suffered trapped fingers, grazed knuckles and had even fallen painfully into a gaping chamber when the flimsy galvanised lid had collapsed under my weight. A one legged descent whilst leaving the other foot at ground level was most unpleasant. 

The insertion of a screwdriver gave some leverage to the heavy hatch and I carefully found a resting position for it, just about vertical on the long outer edge. The effort was well rewarded with a beautiful example of late Victorian domestic drainage.

In fact, in almost 30 years in pursuit of drain covers and their contents I can honestly say that the big reveal was of the best systems that I have come across.

In many similar urban and inner city locations the old drains and drain runs have had to be renewed in order to cope with multiple new installations.

A typical middle class Victorian house would be likely to still have one toilet as would a more Artisan dwelling although importantly the more expensive property would have an indoor one. Modern lifestyles have dictated that most homes, regardless of size and calibre have at least two WC's although with en suites and guest bedrooms this could easily be more. Add to the foul drainage the potential levels of surface water in a combined system and multiplied within a closely packed street any existing drains could easily become overwhelmed.

I had first hand experience of this at my own home a few years ago when heavy rainfall heaved up an otherwise hefty hatch as though it were made of cardboard. The outpouring of effluent was frightening but countered by the look of embarrassment on a neighbours face when a few used contraceptive sheaths slowly bubbled up and floated out into the garden.She must have recognised them.

Back to this subterranean discovery.

The house the drains served was built in 1891. I must, retrospectively, pay my respects to the Civil Engineering of the original contractors as the brickwork to the chamber looks almost brand new and not two centuries back.

The best bits were right at the bottom. The benching is in a wonderful honey hued glazed brick with chamfered edges with no visible erosion or degrading in the constantly damp environment. The drain run itself is similarly glazed in chocolate brown and reflected back the mid morning sun that had found its way into that dark, dank hole.

My favourite bit of exposing  drains is dashing into a property and flushing a toilet before rushing back out to see what is happening.

In this case the flood of toilet duck infused water shot down the course and disappeared into the mains system under some distant street. The point of convergence of a smaller surface water drain should have had a ceramic plug arrangement as original detail to deter rats from clambering up into the house by this route but such a thing was missing.

In all, a superb surviving example of craftsmanship and function. I reluctantly lowered the heavy cover wondering if I would ever see the like again in my lifetime.