Night soiler???

[johnnyboy]

Hello to all following this topic:

Couldn't resist adding a trans-Atlantic perspective to the discussion. Here in the U.S. the occupation goes by the somewhat more poetic name of "honey dipper."

My father grew up in the 1930s in a small coal mining village in Pennsylvania with all the comforts of home except an indoor toilet. The privy was politely--and impolitely--called an outhouse (and though many might disagree it bears no relation to our White House). It stood at the back of the yard, as far from the residence as possible.

Back then, the miners' homes were owned by the coal company. The honey dipper, I believe, was a company employee. Having the weight of the company behind him allowed him to ply his trade openly, without fear of embarrassment or mockery, by the light of day, rather than under cover of darkness.

Every month or so he and his large horse-drawn cart could be heard clopping through the village alleyways. This gentleman in charge of discharge, as it were, would halt his cart next to a loo and employ a large scooping device, also called a honey dipper, to "carry out" his responsibilities. The wagon was outfitted with a large tank, and what he did with its contents at the end of the day, I cannot even begin to imagine.

Those backyard loos eventually fell into disuse--not from disaffection but because they were outlawed for health reasons. My dad's father was an Italian immigrant who was not one to squander a resource. To his mind the outhouse still had a usefulness that perhaps only he and the honey dipper could see. He planted a black walnut tree next to it, and that walnut tree, growing where it did and having such rich fertilizer so ready to hand, is now a towering behemoth. And fecund. Sixty years on the tree produces masses of wonderful walnuts. I'd love to say that I eat them, and that they have made me what I am. But I don't! And they haven't!

Cheers,
John

[Emmeline]

Thanks for a wonderful story johnnyboy -  walnuts and all

[johnnyboy]

Thanks for kind words Emmeline:

After thinking on it a bit, I realize that I actually know very little about how the honey dipper went about the business of other people's business.

That means I'll have to research a sequel. My family still owns the property of which I wrote, and every so often I have to drive for several hours to make certain that no one has absconded with the house or converted my grandfather's walnut tree into firewood.

Check back after Oct. 9 for a sequel. I'll visit the property that weekend and will discreetly interrogate an old-timer or two. Maybe I'll even post a photo of the backyard institution--if I can find one that survives.

Cheers,
John

P.S. Love Emma Louisa's hat! 

[Emmeline]

Hello John

I look forward to the sequel  of the honey dipper story.

Very much like to see a picture of the walnut tree if possible. No doubt a sight  to behold with all the nutrients thereabouts.

Yes, my maternal grandma's hat is indeed  a very fine one  -glad you like it.

With kind regards..........

[sanqhar]

There is more to this than meets the eye!

The "Night Soil" was a very important source of nitrate, thus the link with fertiliser. 

However the was another very important use for this.  It was an important early source for one of the nitrate components of gunpowder.  I think the use of the the word "night" is in fact a corruption of the word "nitre".  After all there was no real reason why the collection should be done in the dark.  In fact I am sure that anyone doing the job would regard it as highly important that they see what they are doing.  One slip, despite us thinking it funny, could still result in death or injury.  Drowning or asphyxiation in some stinking pit is not one of the best ways to go.

Everyone stank in those days and there were few delicate feelings to be offended, so why should the job be hidden?

[Shropshire Lass]

I thought the collecting went on at night because people (especially in the wealthier areas of towns) didn't want to know what had to be done to their waste.

This is interesting about the gunpowder connection -
www.geology.ucdavis.edu/~cowen/~GEL115/115CH16fertilizer.html

"Early Western gunpowder was called "black powder" because it consisted of a finely ground charcoal base, mixed with sulfur and saltpeter (potassium nitrate). Saltpeter was the ingredient that was most difficult to obtain, and since it is the major ingredient in gunpowder best suited for military use, it was the supply of nitrate that became strategically important. By the end of the 1500s, the standard formula for military-grade gunpowder was saltpeter, sulfur, and charcoal dust in the ratio 6:1:1.

At this time, the only source of potassium nitrate was from rotting organic matter, especially rotting meat and urine. The saltpeter supplier would send out teams of collectors who would locate promising places to dig (abandoned privies and dungheaps) by tasting the soil before digging it out and carting it off to be boiled, strained and evaporated to produce saltpeter of the required purity. It is said that throughout Europe no privy, stable, or dovecote was safe from saltpeter collectors or petermen."

Monica


Moderator Comment: URL edited to act as link

[carol sea]

All interesting stuff, this!
Glad I asked the original question.

Now, thinking about the stuff being used as fertilizer made me think.....my family were farmers also, so perhaps having a relative who was a 'night soil man' would have been quite beneficial to them!

Carol

[7igerby7he7ail]

All this talk of nightsoil, reminds me of an incident some 45 years ago now, on  a farm I was working in my summer holidays,

A large pit next to the farm buildings was used to collect every kind of excrement from the farm, or as the farmer so succinctly put it, 'a s***e cocktail'.

Every so often a tanker would come and collect the contents of the pit. [It was later used for muckspreading]
I happened to be there when the tanker came one day.
One of local 'characters' stood by the pit watching the proceedings,as the tanker was pumping out the contents. He wasnt the brighest star in the firmament.
When the tanker had gone with his first load, the farmer shouted to us that he had 'a brew on'.
So off we trundled to the barn for the said cuppa.

20 minutes later we emerged into the farmyard, to the faint cries of help coming from the pit. Sure enough, down in the pit, and up to his armpits was the aforesaid local character.
We threw some rope and dragged him out.
He muttered his thanks and wandered off down towards the village.
Later that same day we were all down the local, when the same local character walked into the tap room, having NOT changed or washed. PHWOAR Imagine 6 grown men all trying to exit through the same small door at the same time

The same story now lives on in village folklore [I visited for the first time in over 40 years last year] It is known as the S***pool Incident. Same local character still alive and well , in his eighties, perhaps he had discovered the fountain of youth ha-ha.


Tom

[polidor]

Well i can do a bit of 'one upmanship' here. I only found out a couple of hours ago that i had an in-law whose job title was
 Inspector of nuisances

On the census i could only read the inspector part, i put it up on the board asked for help in deciphering the rest of the words and lo & behold  the grand title--Inspector of nuisances--was the answer, along with a job description!!
So as my man is an Inspector he must be one step up from your lot

Same job posher title