No, it just smelled awful, as implied by The Great Stink:
A mere 30 years before the Whitechapel Murders, in June of 1858, things came to a head (pun intended) when the River Thames, having absorbed ever-increasing tonnages of animal dung, human excrement, and chemical wastes, became stagnant during drought in an early summer heat wave, and the warm, filthy, quiescent water turned septic.
Raw sewage smells bad enough as it is, due to the presence of sulfur- and nitrogen-rich organic compounds such as indole, skatole, and mercaptans. These substances are produced by natural bacterial action in the digestive tracts of both man and beast, and are responsible for the characteristic odour of faeces and flatulence. However, when sewage becomes septic, these and other complex organic waste compounds present decompose further due to the action of aerobic and anaerobic bacteria not found in the gut, thus generating hydrogen sulfide, the famous “rotten-egg-smell” gas, and a variety of other malodorous organic sulfur and nitrogen compounds.
Raw sewage, however, was not the only pollutant of consequence in the river. Dead animals, blood from slaughterhouses, and the foul organic chemical wastes from tanneries and other industries continued to pour into the Thames, releasing, through their subsequent putrefaction, their own noxious compounds such as putrescine, cadaverine, and butyric acid, all being produced by the decomposition of amino acids in rotting flesh and blood.
The septic Thames thus produced a nauseating stench of epic proportions, which the London press quickly dubbed “The Great Stink”. What then occurred was more than just nausea and inconvenience. Parliament was actually shut down for the duration, Victoria and Albert could not use the royal yacht, river commerce was at a standstill, and ordinary citizens could not bear to be anywhere near the river. And, if possible, the quality of drinking water had worsened. Clearly, something had to be done.

Imagine what it was like living like this, circa 1848:
“On the western side of Spitalfields workhouse, and entered from a street called Queen-street, is a nightman's yard. A heap of dung and refuse of every description, about the size of a pretty large house, lies piled to the left of the yard; to the right, is an artificial pond, into which the contents of cesspools are thrown. The contents are allowed to desiccate in the open air; and they are frequently stirred for that purpose. The odour which was given off when the contents were raked up, to give me an assurance that there was nothing so very bad in the alleged nuisance, drove us from the place with the utmost speed I was master of. On two sides of this horrid collection of excremental matter, was a patent manure manufactory. To the right in this yard, was a large accumulation of dung, &c.; but, to the left, there was an extensive layer of a compost of blood, ashes, and nitric acid, which gave out the most horrid, offensive, and disgusting concentration of putrescent odours it has ever been my lot to be the victim of. "In Spitalfields workhouse, scarcely 100 yards distant from the nuisance, febrile and other affection considerably prevailed, these were greatly induced by the contiguity of the manufactory, as whenever the wind blew from the premises, it carried an odour in the highest degree offensive, and calculated to produce the most pernicious consequences.”

https://www.bbc.com/news/uk-england-london-44800309https://dawlishchronicles.com/2020/11/13/princess-alice-disaster-1878/https://www.rmg.co.uk/stories/blog/library-archive/drowning-sewage-sinking-princess-alicehttps://www.eastlondonhistory.co.uk/sinking-princess-alice/
This is an excerpt from the article:Also in 1878, the pleasure steamship Princess Alice, on which alleged Ripper victim Elizabeth Stride was allegedly a passenger, sank in a collision with a freighter on the Thames near Woolwich. Most of the 600 or so passengers who perished did not die from drowning; they died because of the badly polluted condition of the river.
And one more:With the absence of fish and other aquatic life, the Thames in London had essentially died, supporting only teeming hosts of faecal coliform, V. cholerae, and other waterborne bacteria, and whatever algae and plants could survive there. Though there were plenty (and how!) of nutrients for plant life, the turbidity of the polluted water effectively blocked sunlight such that few plants thrived. Those whose livelihoods or sustenance had depended on local fishing were, as they say, shit out of luck.

There is no link, as this article was published in an e-zine over four issues and does not appear on a website which can be linked. I do have the complete article as a special run and it is 7.7 Mb. That I can send you, and I think I have done so before some years ago.

You're too kind. But I can't really help myself - it's a glandular condition. Just ask Miss C. Sadly, this article is rather brief and there is a LOT more to the story.

About 2010, I wrote an article for Ripperologist Magazine concerning the history of sewage in Merrie Olde England and how it may have influenced the Whitechapel Murders. It is actually quite fascinating a subject, and if the Management has an interest, I will make it available here.

I have the complete Russ Cochran library of EC boxed sets, including the original MAD comic books that predated the magazine. I remembered the bupgoo and simply looked for it online, an excerpt of which I posted. Here is that link:https://www.villagevoice.com/2019/07/09/mad-magazine-eclipsed-by-madness/
I feel your pain. My mother tossed out what had been a complete collection of Marvel Comics 1961-1967, probably worth 100's of thousands today. Those MADs would be worth another small fortune. Such is life.

I haven't a clue, but I'd bet on Bosco, although it has been a LONG time since I had any.
Here is the relevant part of the MAD parody:The Kurtzman-Elder collaboration can be seen at its best in Howdy Dooit, with its commercials for Bupgoo (“Bupgoo makes a glass of milk look exactly like a glass of beer!”) and Skwushy’s Sliced White-Bread (“If it’s good bread — it’s a wonder!”) and its maniacal contingent of children in the “Peewee Gallery,” an underage mob ready to overwhelm the repellent “Buffalo Bill.” When Buffalo Bill asks one sinister-looking youngster what he wants to be when he grows up (“A police chief? A fireman? A Indian? Or, [hot-dog], maybe a jet-fighter pilot? Huh?”) the boy replies: “Please, Buf­falo Bill, don’t be juvenile!… If one had the choice, it would probably be soundest to get into a white-collar occupation such as an investment broker or some-such! Of course… advertising and entertainment are lucrative fields if one hits the top brack­ets… much like Howdy Dooit has! In other words… what I want to do when I grow up, is to be a hustler like Howdy Dooit!” To which Bill replies: “But child… Howdy Dooit is no hustler!… Howdy Dooit is a happy wooden marionette, manipulated by strings! Howdy Dooit, child, is no merce­nary, money grubbing hustler… I, Buffalo Bill, am the mercenary, money grubbing hustler!” Seizing a pair of scissors, the child cuts Buffalo Bill’s invisible strings. As Bill falls limp and vacant-eyed to the studio floor, a raging Howdy Dooit screams for the cameras to cut.

I haven't seen it (or noticed it) for decades, but it seems to still be around - https://www.amazon.com/Original-Bosco-Chocolate-Syrup-Squeeze/dp/B004YW7I64/ref=sr_1_1?crid=2I9Q4EOGCG99&keywords=bosco+chocolate+syrup&qid=1660152142&sprefix=bosco%2Caps%2C89&sr=8-1