From the Clyde to the Seine, rediscovering Glasgow’s history of urban swimming could help shape the future of swimmable cities

Connecting the rich, and often unknown, histories of open swimming in urban waterways to the growing swimmable cities movement could help to shape the futures of urban swimming.

In August 1879, around 6,000 spectators lined the banks of the River Clyde in Glasgow, Scotland, to see two teenagers called Elizabeth and Minnie swim half a mile. Now, 145 years later, there’s a growing global movement to revive urban waterways – rivers, harbours and canals – as safe swimming spots for city dwellers.

For my PhD, I’m investigating the social and cultural history of swimming in Glasgow, Scotland, from 1850 to 1950. I’ve discovered a fascinating connection between the rich, and often unexplored, history of swimming in urban waterways and the modern open air swimming movement.

In Glasgow, as the city industrialised and the population grew to more than 1 million by 1912, the swimmers who used the main river – the Clyde – for washing, exercise and enjoyment were gradually squeezed out when the river was deepened to serve busy shipping routes and the water became a stinking repository for the city’s sewage and industrial effluents.

In the early 19th century, the Clyde was so shallow that you could wade across it and bathing was common at Glasgow Green where gentle grassy banks allowed for easy access to the water. Yet there were also dangerous plumb holes; drownings were not uncommon and the Glasgow Humane Society was founded in 1790 to rescue the unwary.

However, swimming was so popular that the city authorities installed diving boards at Glasgow Green and put up lifebuoys and safety notices. In August 1840, the Glasgow Swimming Society held races in the Clyde competing for National Swimming Society medals and the right of the winner to race in the Thames.

Clyde Swimming Club used the river for its competitions – its meeting in September 1860 attracted “a great number of spectators” to see Glasgow baker James Watson win the 900-yard race. Working class Glaswegian Walter Freer, looking back on the 1860s in his 1929 memoir, said, “swimming … became a sort of rage in the city”.

The swimmers, typically male, usually went into the water naked, so the Glasgow Police Act 1843 made it an offence for bathers to expose themselves near busy roads. By 1867, anyone caught swimming outside authorised places faced either a 20-shilling fine or seven days in jail.

The river was also becoming more polluted. Freer reminisced: “It is a wonder to me that we did not all die of disease, for the water was filthy … The wash from the print works coloured the water brown, and, looking back, I can almost believe that the very water was poisoned.”

These changes affected cleanliness and public health, provoking calls for indoor facilities where working people could both wash and swim.

Swimming clubs overcame legal restrictions and pollution to continue to use the Clyde for annual races where their leading swimmers battled it out for the right to be club captain.

From 1877, a swimming promoter called William Wilson organised a New Year’s Day race intended to prove that swimmers were willing to enter the water at all times to save a life, but that was abandoned in the 1890s. Wilson was also involved in that public swimming display when he arranged for Elizabeth, 15, and Minnie, 14, to go into the Clyde to dispel doubts that they didn’t have the sufficient skill to swim that distance following their swimming lessons from his wife Ruth.

Eventually, this era of Clyde swimming ended, especially after the introduction of public and private indoor swimming pools in the city.

Beyond the Clyde

Soon, the world’s top swimmers will dive into the River Seine for the Paris Olympics. It’s been an anxious wait to be sure that the river will be free from high levels of E coli bacteria.

To prove the water is safe, French sports minister Amelie Oudea-Castera and Paris mayor Anne Hidalgo both took a dip this week.

Spectators are expected to line the course, which starts and ends at the Alexandre III bridge. Thanks to the €1.4 billion (£1.2 billion) public investment, three new public outdoor swimming venues will open on the river by 2025.

Swimming in the Seine has been banned since 1923 due to health risks from pollution, though that has not stopped some Parisians from illegal dips in the Seine and the canals, often at night.

This week, cultural institutions, community swimming groups, environmental campaigners and municipal leaders from 31 cities, including Paris, have signed the Swimmable Cities Charter in a push to create safe, healthy and swimmable waterways accessible to all.

Research confirms that access to urban blue spaces is associated with positive effects on our health and wellbeing, while cleaner water improves the quality of life for people living in town and cities.

Many cities are creating official swimming zones in cleaned up waterways, such as the harbour baths of Cophenhagen. Options for open urban swimming in the UK are expanding too: in London’s Canary Wharf and London Royal Docks, at former docks in Leeds and Salford Quays in Greater Manchester.

In Glasgow, open air swimming facilities are now being offered at the once neglected Pinkston basin of the Forth and Clyde Canal while other special swimming events have taken place in former industrial waterways.

Other cities will share similar outdoor urban swimming histories. Knowing how past city dwellers exerted their rights to swim could help to shape the futures of urban waterways. By embracing the legacy of quays, harbours and docks, local communities can be empowered to develop urban swimming facilities that are inclusive, practical and beneficial to people and the environment.

Glasgow was once a place where ordinary citizens used the rivers for fun, exercise, life-saving skills and cleanliness. Cities can now manage urban waterways as places for recreation, health and wellbeing, environmental diversity and climate change resilience. Needs may have changed for city communities but urban swimming is part of the cultural heritage of many places like Glasgow. These hidden histories can inspire today’s urban communities to reimagine and renew their places as modern swimmable cities.

Lucy Janes is a member of the Arlington Baths Club in Glasgow.