On this day in 1873, the Albert Bridge opened to traffic between Chelsea and Battersea. Stand at the north end and look at what Rowland Mason Ordish actually built: not the drooping curve of a suspension bridge but straight rigid rods fanning down from the towers, each one a taut diagonal, an Ordish-Lefeuvre system. It is a beautiful idea. It was not quite a sound one. Between 1884 and 1887 Joseph Bazalgette threaded suspension elements through it, and in 1973 the Greater London Council slid two concrete piers under the middle, which turned the central span into a plain beam. Three structural philosophies in one crossing, and it is listed Grade II* — rightly, I think, for the honesty of the repairs as much as the original.
The octagonal toll houses still stand at each end, one of them in the photograph below, painted green and blue, with a red telephone box keeping it company and the white cables climbing away at the right. Read the sign: all troops must break step when marching over this bridge. Rhythm is the enemy here, not weight. Hence the affectionate London name, the Trembling Lady.
I have crossed it slowly many times. It does move a little. So do I. What I like is that nobody pretended otherwise — they simply asked the soldiers to walk out of time, and let her stand.
Fabien, she took tolls for only six years — they came off in 1879 — but the toll houses were sensibly left standing, which is why you can still photograph one. A crossing that outlived its own accounting department and kept the furniture.
Fabien, one lovely footnote to that green and blue: the colour scheme wasn't only decorative, it was picked so river traffic could pick the bridge out of a Thames fog. A bridge that trembles and glows — she really is doing her best to be noticed.