The Ottawa Free Trader

THE LONDON DUSTMEN.

The dust yards of London in the time of Dickens' "Boffin's Bower" were nothing in comparison to what they were twenty years after, owing to its vast and rapid growth, its sanitary arrangements, and the contending rivalry of the contractors to get the work, and the vast amount of wealth invested in its collection. Indeed, great fortunes have been made as well as lost in this very business, and corporations of London, instead of paying to have the dust removed, were receiving five and six thousand pounds per annum for that privilege, so that to be a "dust contractor" either meant to be a very rich man or a wealthy company; and now to describe the system of their work.

One of the things that strikes a stranger, and more especially a foreigner, in London, if he happens to stroll that way about half past six in the evening, especially in the summer, is, in crossing Hyde or the Queen's park, to meet a number of women and girls, poorly clad and looking very dirty, each one with a large flag basket on her head filled to overflowing and apparently heavy enough to crush her into the earth, and all hurrying toward Westminster, in the poor part of which the most of them live. They are returning home from their work in the dust yards in Paddington.

Come with me, reader, and I will introduce you there at their busiest time. As we turn into the wharf road on the banks of the canal where the yards are situated, one is surprised at the immense number of large one-horse carts going in loaded and coming out empty. They are strongly built, all alike, and very large, requiring a short ladder for the men to load them: with magnificent Flemish horses not one of which cost less than £100 to £125 each, and strong and heavy harness in proportion. Each cart has the name of the contractor and the number of the cart written on it in large, white letters and figures, so that the public can make report of any neglect, ill behavior, or, in fact, anything that would warrant it, the authorities being very strict as to this. Here we are at the first yard, but we will go on to the next, the largest. Here what a busy scene bursts upon the view; carts entering one after another, continually, each driver handing in at the office window a ticket with number of his cart as a tally as to how many loads he collects in a week—the men being paid by the load. Having discharged his load, he goes out by the other gate, so as not to clash with the incoming ones. Within the yard (which stands upon from two to three acres of ground, independent of offices, stables, &c.) all seems bustle and confusion, but it is not so. Each one knows his or her work, and has to do it, too, all being paid by the piece so there is no loafing or skulking, as it is called, there. Along the yard, from the front or road, to the canal, are rows of women facing each other, with a hill of dust between them, sometimes four, sometimes six, and even eight rows. I have seen 150 women in this very yard. Each one has a large sieve before her and the process is this: the filler-in, one man to every three women, (she is surrounded by old baskets and receptacles of every description), throws a shovel of dust into her sieve; she sifts it and then commences sorting. First she picks out all the straw, hay and vegetables of every description, and throws into a large basket; this is called soft core, and is the most useless and profitless of all that is collected in the yard, being fit for nothing but manure. Next all the wood is picked out; this she puts in her own basket, it being her perquisite; then comes rags of all sorts, which are duly deposited in their receptacle; next all the paper, books, etc. after that all the leather, boots and shoes; then come window and other glass, bottles, vials, etc., crockery and earthen-ware for roadbeds, all to their baskets; now come the bones, a most important item: next comes what calls for the closest searching, viz., metals, iron, brass, copper, etc., gold, silver and jewelry. You smile! Many of these find their way to the dust yard through the carelessness of servants. Watches, bracelets, ear-rings, rings, knives, forks, spoons, etc., all are carefully picked up and handed to the billman, or sub-contractor, who deposits them in the office, in case they should be inquired after; if not, after a reasonable time, they are sold, and he gets his share. A sharp lookout is kept by the bill-in as to see that they don't secrete any, and woe betide them if caught; if not handed over to the law, instant dismissal is the result, and a forfeit of what is due her as wages—no much, because in most yards they pay nightly but they never got a chance to return to the yard. All they find in trinkets, etc., outside of plate or jewelry, is theirs, and many are the curious articles to be seen in their homes, adorning their mantel shelves or the walls some quite rare and valuable. The next thing she picks out is all the coal, which is hers to fill her basket, all over belonging to sub contractor. This done, she continues the quittins in another basket and is ready for another shovelful, and so she goes on. She gets four pence a load, and is supposed to sift about three a day of many bushels. One shilling a day, with fuel, is their earnings. They are able to that, and when done can go, but they hardly ever get done before night, that is, six o'clock, when they all leave off, whether they finished the quantity or not, but those who do not soon get spotted and are discharged. They want the quantity done, as the filler-in is paid by the day, as is also the boy (one for every six women) to carry away the full baskets and supply them with others. The subcontractor gets four pence a load—what he pays the women—from the contractor for sifting: and has to pay his fillers, boys and others, also finding sieves, shovels, rates, picks, etc. out of the marketable articles that are picked out of the dust. It seems almost incredible, but is the fact, that many of these men make a good living and even competencies out of it. Now I will show you how. Come with me into the shed. Here is another busy scene. Here are men sorting and arranging the metals, which amount to a considerable quantity in the course of a week. Take another party sorting, washing and sizing bottles and vials. They are all sold to doctors and druggists. Here is another party sorting rags. The white ones are all picked out and carefully washed by a machine, bringing the best price as best white rags. Here is woollen cloth, silk, ticking, matting cloth, etc., all converted into money. Here, also are the bones, which amount to tons in the course of a week, and the waste paper, bagful after bagful, amounting also to tons, and the old boots and shoes—the best of which are bought by what are called renovators, and worked up again, the refuse by some peculiar process being converted in size. In fact, there is nothing scarcely used in domestic or commercial life but what finds its way some time or other into the dust yard. Of course, the greater quantity comes from the houses of the wealthier portion of the community, who when moving, if anything is broken or nearly worn out or damaged, or they are tired of it, it is thrown into the dust bin and from thence to the yard, there being little chance of its being abducted by the collector or dustman on the road, the man being watched by the lookout man, hence it is that you can get almost anything second-hand there, each yard having a perfect museum of articles, which are sold at retail when wanted, the sub-contractor depending upon his regular weekly collections and sales for his expense. Of these rags form the greatest item, being as much as all the rest; bones and papers come next, metals and other things following in rotation, so that from all sources the average weekly receipts amount to about sixty pounds (£60), that being sufficient to pay all his employes and leave a handsome residue for himself. I knew one of these men who saved enough to emigrate to America; go out west and buy a large farm, where I believe he is now living and prosperous. "Well, but," say you, "after all this, what is left for the contractor, who can afford to give so much for the collecting, the large number of men the clerks, the horses, the plant, etc., all to be kept and paid for out of what?" I will explain that. "The ashes are valuable in mixing with clay for bricks, with which the houses are built in London and they say they are the best made, and when building is brisk the demand is great, and consequently the ashes go up in price. Of course it varies, but generally it averages four shillings a load of so many bushels. One hundred women sift three hundred loads, which gives sixty pounds a day. Cinders, which are used to burn the bricks, about the same quantity, at one-third of the price, £20 more. In fact their returns average about £100 a day, or about £30,000 per annum. Hence it is that they can afford to give a large sum for the privilege of the contract, keep a large staff of clerks, men, horses, and plant of the best quality, besides there is another source of profit. These men contract for the raising of slop, mud and dust off the streets at very little extra expense with the great plant they have, and they get well paid for that, and also get the value of it for manure. It is not much in price, it is true, but the quantity pays; and thus it is they make fortunes out of a London dust yard.