A RIVER RUNS PUTRID: A SUMMER OF FILTH, 1858

The city of London sweltered in the heat of summer, 1858. But it was not merely the sun that parched the metropolis. An even more repellent force infested its very heart: the River Thames. Years of industrial effluents had transformed London's lifeblood into a foul-smelling mire. The stench was overwhelming, a miasma that clung to every cobblestone

The year the year of our Lord eight hundred and forty-five AD. A chill wind swept across the Seine River, carrying with it the scent carrying salt and fear. The Norsemen were upon us, a ravenous swarm of warriors seeking read more riches. Their longships, like wolves, sliced through the waters, their flags waving in the wind. A city once proud now