about buildings and height of building.
It provides, in the case of new houses in new streets, for an open
space in the rear, exclusively belonging to such building, of at least
150 square feet, free from erections except W.C. and ashpit. Where the
ground storey is not inhabited, this open space may be provided at a
height of 16 feet above the level of the pavement. The open space must
extend the entire width of the building and have a depth of 10 feet at
least.
A diagonal line drawn from the rear of the open space on the pavement
level, and inclining towards the building at an angle of 63°·5, shall
clear the top of such building save chimneys, dormers, gables, &c. This
means that the house may be at all levels twice as high as the space is
deep.
When a house abuts at the rear on a street or permanent 'open space,'
then no private open space or curtilage need be provided.
'Nothing in this section shall apply to houses abutting in the rear on
the river Thames, or on a public park, or on an 'open space' of not
less than 80 feet in depth which is dedicated to the public, or the
maintenance of which as an open space is secured permanently or to the
satisfaction of the Council by covenant or otherwise.'
In new streets less than 50 feet wide no house may be erected having a
height greater than the width of the street.
No house may be more than 80 feet high without the special permission
of the Council.
These regulations, from the point of view of health, are as bad as can
be, because they put a premium, so to say, on buildings of enormous
cubic capacity. We have seen that the provisions as to private
curtilage are limited to a back yard 10 feet deep, but in the case of
houses abutting on two streets, front and back, or abutting on a street
and 'open space' 80 feet deep, these restrictions are dispensed with.
If an open space, acquired and maintained at enormous cost, is to be
an excuse for surrounding it with huge blocks of 'flats' 80 feet high,
it is not difficult to see that their effect on the public health
will be mischievous rather than beneficial. There is no advantage in
looking out on an open space through a closed window, and the great
problem in London is how to manage that young children under school
age are to breathe the external air which is essential to their
proper development. In the country the perambulator is pushed into
the garden, and through the open door the mother at her work can have
an eye upon her children. But for a family occupying a set of rooms
in a 'model dwelling,' when the father is gone to work, the elder
children at school, and the mother busy, there is nothing for it but
to allow the children to breathe the air of the living-rooms, fouled
from many sources. These children seldom breathe external air, and
never breathe really fresh air. When they are a little older, they
fluctuate between crowded two-storeyed schools, a fetid home, and an
'open space' (perhaps 80 feet wide and surrounded by houses 80 feet
high!). Is it to be wondered at that the even tenor of their way is
interrupted by diphtheria and scarlet fever, or that 22 per cent. die
without ever keeping a birthday, and that children under five are more
than decimated annually?
One must rejoice to think that in new houses (mostly) on the outskirts
the little child will have a back yard to play in, having an area of at
least 150 square feet (with deductions for the permitted erections).
The little child in the 'Strand' will enjoy no such luxury, and how
it is to get any fresh air before it is old enough to play in the
fearfully crowded and dangerous streets is a mystery.
'Thou art so full of misery
Were it not better not to be?'
These regulations of the London Building Act seem to point to the fact
that 'betterment' really means overcrowding in houses of enormous cubic
capacity.
I shall be told, and rightly, that the horrible overcrowding of houses
in the centre of London is caused by the high price of building land,
and that it cannot be prevented. Further, I shall be told that, in
spite of the overcrowding and general unsanitary conditions, rents
are increasing. This is also true as regards some districts, but,
as I have said before, there is no relation between hygiene and
money-getting. But there is no reason why we should deceive ourselves
as to the results of overcrowding. They are set forth with absolute
plainness by the Registrar-General, and we must be thankful that we
have an official statistician who is above local considerations, and
who does not feel himself called upon to keep unpleasant facts in the
background. There is yet one Balaam among the prophets.
I have for years combated the oft-repeated statements as to the
'healthiness' of London, not because I expect that London will alter
its way, but because rural places and the Colonies should not blindly
follow the lead of London, in the belief that they are following a good
sanitary model, and that disastrous consequences will not inevitably
follow upon a reckless overcrowding of houses.
The prime object of overcrowding was for safety. Cities were originally
walled fortresses, and people crowded into them for protection, and
were killed by epidemics instead of by their enemies. Modern sanitation
favours overcrowding, and this it is which makes it so popular, for
overcrowding favours money-getting.
When sewer pipes and water pipes are laid throughout a district it
becomes possible (but not till then) to build houses without curtilage,
except a 10-foot back yard.
If, therefore, rural places are reckless enough to perpetrate a 'sewage
scheme,' it becomes very necessary to check the overcrowding of houses.
'MODEL' (!) BY-LAWS
I am sorry to say that the Local Government Board does not appear to be
sensible of this necessity.
My reason for this statement is (to quote an example within my own
knowledge) that the Local Government Board a little more than a year
ago sanctioned the adoption of 'model' (!) by-laws by the borough of
Andover, and on examining these by-laws, which cover 69 closely printed
large octavo pages, and comprise hundreds of sections and sub-sections,
the bulk of which must be quite incomprehensible to the Town Council,
I find that as regards buildings many of the clauses are practically
identical with those of the London Building Act.
The Local Government Board does not seem to recognise that
circumstances alter cases, and that the regulations which may be
beneficial in the crowded and filthy slums of a great city, may he
mischievous in a village or country town. Andover is an exceedingly
healthy little town, as the table on p. 99 will show, and in it there
must be very few, if any, houses more than 50 feet high, and the great
majority of the houses and cottages have large yards or gardens.
And yet the Local Government Board sanctions regulations for this town
which permit the erection of dwelling houses a _hundred feet high_!
_with a backyard 25 feet deep_!! and it further allows the adoption of
the minimum of 150 square feet of back yard for dwelling houses.
In illustration of this, reference may be made to figs. 32, 33, 34,
which are borrowed from Knight's 'Model By-laws,' published under the
authority of the Local Government Board. Fig. 32 shows the 'model' open
space for a cottage, fig. 33 for a house up to 25 feet high, and fig.
34 the maximum which is necessary, even though the house be 100 feet
high or more.
These regulations may be good in London, but when such regulations are
printed in the by-laws of rural places they become dangerous and wicked
suggestions, which one fears the local builders will not be slow to
adopt, especially if the town be sewered throughout, which happily as
yet is not the case.
[Illustration: Fig. 32.]
[Illustration: Fig. 33.]
[Illustration: Fig. 34.]
These elaborate building regulations as applied to country places are
absurd. I do not say that in the case of houses abutting on the streets
and which touch other houses some control by the local authority is not
necessary, or that the local authority is not to exercise supervision
as to the manner of making connections of houses with sewers, water
pipes, and gas pipes.
But it is clear that all harassing regulations are out of place when
they are applied to isolated dwellings which are wholly detached and
separated by a moderate interval (say a distance equal to the height)
from the boundaries of other premises. The man who builds a detached
house ought to be encouraged, and not worried, and the insurance
offices and the owner may be left to see that the construction of the
house is good enough.
These by-laws contain a prohibition of overhanging storeys (in the old
English fashion), which may be reasonable enough in crowded streets,
but are unreasonable and silly when applied to isolated dwellings. A
friend of mine had a fancy to build a house of this kind in the middle
of three acres of land which he bought in Hertfordshire, and after he
had been at the expense of getting out his plans, &c., he found that
such a building was _against the by-laws_. However, he discovered means
to 'square' the local jacks-in-office, and his very pretty house was
built, and is a decided ornament to the district.
These by-laws are an expense to ratepayers, and they increase the cost
of buildings. Elaborate plans and descriptions have to be furnished,
and the buildings have to be inspected at various periods of their
construction, and, of course, all variations of plan which may appear
necessary in the course of construction must also be submitted and
'passed' by the local authority. It may happen that there are members
of the local council who understand the technicalities of the building
trade; but even if this be the case, it is manifestly unjust that the
plans of a builder who is outside the council should be submitted to
and judged by a competitor who happens to be inside. As a rule, the
council is completely in the hands of the local surveyor, and the local
surveyor exercises despotic power over all building operations.
This leads us to ask the question, 'What is a surveyor?' Lawyers and
doctors have to be 'legally qualified,' and the ratepayers have some
guarantee that the town clerk and medical officer of health know
something of their business. But it is difficult to get a similar
guarantee with regard to that terrible despot, the surveyor to the
local board.
Whether the surveyor be learned or ignorant in the matters which he
undertakes to survey must always be a matter of doubt, but it is
evident that a person who exercises such arbitrary power ought on
no account to be allowed to practise his profession for his private
gain. _Humanum est errare._ We must not expect an impossible standard
of morality in any man, and no surveyor ought to be placed in the
invidious position of sitting in judgment on his own plans.
These arbitrary by-laws must tend to check building operations, and to
hinder the development of the art of the architect and the science of
the builder. The restrictions are another instance of
'Art made tongue-tied by authority,
And Folly, doctor-like, controlling skill;'
and I feel certain that, in the interests of the public health,
builders of isolated dwellings ought to be allowed to escape from the
despotism which is so dear to modern democracy.
Everything which tends to encourage the provision of adequate space
round dwellings is a great gain.
Such by-laws as I have quoted, when applied to country places, and
when no exceptions such as I have indicated are made, are a downright
incentive to overcrowding, and mischievous in the highest degree.
THE COST OF THE DWELLING
Everything which increases the cost of the dwelling must tend to
increase overcrowding.
The London rents are enormous; the artisan pays 7_s._ or 8_s._ for
accommodation which he could get in a village for 1_s._ 6_d._, and in a
country town for 2_s._ 6_d._
The rich man pays his 200_l._, 300_l._, or more for a house (without
a square inch of curtilage) which out of London would fetch 40_l._ or
50_l._ at most.
In London it happens, probably, more often than elsewhere that people
pay in house-rent a sum which is an excessive proportion of their
income, and their finances feel the strain of slight increments to the
cost of the dwelling, and they are often driven to take lodgers or
'paying-guests'; or people apparently well off give up their houses and
take a 'flat,' in which the crowding is excessive.
This kind of thing goes on among the well-to-do classes, and certainly
to a greater extent among the poor.
When we consider the charges, other than rent, in London as compared
with country houses, we must never forget that, rents being three or
more times as high in London as elsewhere, the rating in the pound
ought to be multiplied by three or four before we can compare London
rates with country rates.
Or we must take some other basis of comparison, such as the area
occupied or the cubic contents. A house which I lived in in London for
twenty-five years occupies an area of 18 by 72 feet, or 1,296 square
feet, or 144 square yards.
The rent was originally 180_l._, which was raised to 200_l._ when the
lease was renewed in 1892; _i.e._ the rent was originally 1_l._ 5_s._
per square yard, and is now 1_l._ 8_s._ per square yard. 'The rateable
value' has been gradually pushed up from 150_l._ to 184_l._, and the
gross value has lately been set down at 220_l._, or 10 per cent. more
than the rent (because the tenant undertakes to do the repairs).
The changes other than rent have been as follows:—
+----------------------+------------+------------+
| | 1873 | 1896 |
+----------------------+------------+------------+
| | £ _s._ _d._| £ _s._ _d._|
|Income Tax } | | |
|Inhabited House Duty} | 9 15 0 |14 18 4 |
|Parochial Rates |30 0 0 |55 19 4 |
|Water | 6 8 0 | 7 10 6 |
| +------------+------------+
| Total | 46 3 0 | 78 8 2 |
|Rent |180 0 0 |200 0 0 |
| +------------+------------+
| Grand total |226 3 0 |278 8 2 |
+----------------------+------------+------------+
Thus it will be seen that the cost of this house (which has not been
enlarged in any way) has been increased by 23 per cent. The rent has
increased 11 per cent., or 20_l._ a year. The rates have increased by
nearly 87 per cent., or very nearly 26_l._ a year.
The imperial taxes have increased nearly 53 per cent., or 5_l._ 3_s._
4_d._ per year, and the water by nearly 18 per cent., or 1_l._ 2_s._
6_d._ per year. It will be noted that while the tenant in this case
submitted to an increase of 11 per cent., the charges over which the
tenant has practically no control have increased in a much higher
ratio, and now amount to 78_l._ 8_s._ 2_d._, or more than 10_s._ 6_d._
per square yard of occupied land, the total cost of the house being
1_l._ 18_s._ 6_d._ per square yard, or, including repairs, more than
2_l._ per square yard.
The total obligatory charges (rent, rates, taxes, and water), which in
1873 were 226_l._, had risen in 1896 to 278_l._ In the same time the
interest on 100_l._ invested in Consols has fallen from 3_l._ 5_s._ to
2_l._ 10_s._
In 1893 a sum of 7,000_l._ invested in Consols would have paid the
obligatory charges on this house. In 1896 these charges could only be
met by a sum of 11,000_l._ invested in Consols.
Looked at in this way, the cost of the dwelling has risen 57 per cent.
in 23 years, the size of the dwelling remaining constant.
The charge for water has been included because no house is habitable
without it, and in this case the tenant cannot sink a well, because
the house is totally without curtilage of any kind, and the rain-water
having fallen through the London air is so foully dirty as to be
unusable.
The householders of London rightly view with alarm the rapid increase
of the sum levied for rates. This sum has increased at the rate of
more than 3 per cent. per annum during the twenty-five years I lived
in the house I have been describing, and now amounts to rather more
than 7_s._ 6_d._ per square yard occupied. The average householder is
naturally nervous and apprehensive; he is getting unwilling to take a
house for a long term, and is squeezing his household into 'flats,' in
which (as the landlord pays the rates) the yearly expenditure on house
accommodation is fairly calculable. The attractiveness of the flat
is further enhanced by short-term leases, so that, should illness or
a financial mishap befall him, he will be less heavily weighted than
would be the case if he were the owner of a long, unmarketable lease.
I think we may take it for granted that if the well-to-do classes are
showing a tendency to overcrowd, this tendency will be found to get
progressively more intense as we descend in the social scale. The
well-to-do occupiers of flats have to be content with what may be
called 'rather close quarters,' but their servants are often squeezed
into rooms scarcely bigger than cupboards. It is not conceivable that
those who are in a dependent position will have better accommodation
than those whom they serve.
REMEDIES FOR OVERCROWDING
The final question is, What can be done to prevent overcrowding of
houses and of persons in the house?
I freely admit that very little can be done in big towns, and people
must be left to judge for themselves as to whether they will allow
their children to run the extra risk of death, crippling disease, or
defective development, inseparable from life in a crowded city. The
statistics of the Registrar-General (_i.e._ the Annual Summary and the
Decennial Supplement) show clearly what these risks are, but it is
necessary to add that some of the local statistics manifest at times an
undue desire to minimise the mortality of the district from which they
emanate.
A great metropolitan city like London, concerning which we are educated
from our cradles to utter big boasts, exercises an enormous influence
on public opinion, but it is perfectly clear that she is a dangerous
model to follow in the matter of house-construction.
I call to mind the case of a great London builder who bought a country
mansion in a park. He was a very able man, but when he carried out
some alterations and additions to his new house he found it impossible
to cast away his town-bred ideas, and accordingly built underground
kitchens and coal cellars, and had the coals put into his cellar
through a plate in the pavement just outside the drawing-room window.
He had been so long accustomed to build houses with a minimum of area,
that when he had an unlimited space at his disposal he failed to
utilise or appreciate the advantages of such a boon.
Country places should be careful to avoid the adoption, as by-laws,
of regulations originally framed with the idea of mitigating the
horrors of the London slums. With regard to these regulations, it
must be remembered that 'the trail of the Cockney is over them all,'
and it has been shown that regulations, especially as to space
round dwellings, which may be beneficial in the Seven Dials become
mischievous suggestions when printed and circulated as the by-laws of a
country district. It seems almost incredible that the Local Government
Board should sanction the adoption of some of these by-laws by country
communities.
The exigencies of space in London have led to the construction of
underground offices, with the result that at least a tenth of the
inhabitants of modern London are cave-dwellers; and in the by-laws from
which I have quoted I find no attempt to penalise, or in any way to
restrict, the perpetration of similar barbarities in the country.
If there be underground 'offices,' the drains of the house will leave
it at a level of some 10 feet below the ground level, and the public
sewer must be at least 11 feet underground, and the laying of sewers at
such a depth is relatively expensive. As there are extra charges for
high level water service, ought there not to be similar extra charges
for low level drain service?
The great blot on modern sanitary legislation is the entire absence of
any encouragement for the sanitary well-doers.
Sanitary legislation is founded on a basis of mischievous lop-sided
socialism, in which the sanitary well doer is heavily taxed for the
support of the jerry-builder, and is called upon to pay for all the
shortcomings of the negligent and filthy.
Encouragement ought to be given to the man who builds a house with
ample curtilage; and if such house be removed from all other dwellings
by a distance equal to its height, he ought to be freed from the
restrictions of harassing by-laws, and the despotic control of district
surveyors whose credentials are often of the flimsiest, and whose ideas
are stereotyped.
The idea which was prevalent a few years ago, that open spaces should
be taxed at 'site value' is, one must hope, dead. Its obviously
mischievous tendency needs no comment.
The only equitable basis for calculating the rateable value of a house
for sanitary purposes is the cubic capacity, because, as a broad rule,
the bigger the house the greater is the amount of work which it throws
upon streets and sewers. The 'grounds' or 'curtilage' of a house ought
to be very leniently taxed, although one must admit that streets and
pavements ought to be paid for in proportion to house and ground
frontage.
If a man spend money in beautifying his house without enlarging it,
this ought not to entail an increase in rateable value for sanitary
purposes. Such beautifyings are good for trade in a proper sense, and
ought not in the interests of the community to be checked.
The rich man who has a fancy for a fine house has already had his
income handsomely taxed, and it seems scarcely just or wise that he
should be further directly taxed for spending his income.
Horses if of similar dimensions used to be equally taxed, and no
distinction was made between the 'Thoroughbred' and the 'Screw,' which
was quite equitable, because the owner of the former had already paid
income tax.
I have been at some pains to point out that in country or semi-rural
districts, where it is possible to give a house a decent curtilage or
small garden, it is easy for a householder to make the sanitation of
his dwelling quite independent of the local authority. In fact, the
householder is able if he be so minded to make his sanitation complete,
and to finish, on his own premises and to his own profit, that
'circulation of organic matter' which is a law of Nature, and the only
true basis upon which the science of sanitation can possibly stand firm.
The householder can do piecemeal what no public authority has ever
succeeded in doing wholesale, albeit that millions of money have been
wasted in silly attempts.
Why should not the householder be encouraged? One method of
encouragement would be to allow him to pay for water by meter, if he
be so minded, exactly as he pays for gas. Such a measure as this would
effectually solve the water difficulty everywhere.
On referring to p. 113 it will be seen that in 1873 I paid 6_l._ 8_s._
per annum for water. As there were no fixed baths and washing was
not done at home, I reckon the water consumption was not more than
seventeen gallons per head per diem.
In 1873 my household averaged nine persons, so that the yearly
consumption of water was not more than 9 × 17 × 365 = 55,845 gallons
(say 56,000), which, at 6_l._ 8_s._, means about 2_s._ 3_d._ per 1,000
gallons.
In 1896 I reckon that my household averaged four and a half persons,
and that the yearly consumption of water was 28,000 gallons, which, at
7_l._ 10_s._ 6_d._, means very nearly 5_s._ 6_d._ per 1,000. Suppose
that this house stood in the country, and that it were possible
to adopt dry methods of sanitation, this would reduce the water
consumption by about one-third, say to 12 gallons per head, or 19,000
gallons a year for the household of 1896. At a shilling per 1,000
gallons, which I believe is a fair price, the water bill would fall to
19_s._
At a shilling per 1,000 gallons, twelve gallons per diem, or 4,380
gallons per year, would cost 4_s._ 4_d._ per head, or a penny per head
per week. If in a country place the rain-water were stored the annual
cost for water would be still less.
It may be well to add the twelve gallons per diem allows for a daily
sponge bath, and that on this quantity of water absolute domestic
and personal cleanliness can be maintained. An excess of water is a
pure luxury, and it should be remembered that sewage difficulties are
largely proportionate to the amount of water which has to be dealt with.
The supply of water by meter would effectually check waste, which no
by-laws and regulations can effect; and if the water mains were frozen,
the water companies, very properly, would be the chief losers, and the
householder would not be called upon to pay for that which he had never
been supplied with.
In the matter of water 'enough is as good as a feast,' and it is idle
to imagine that the public health will be improved by a reckless
extravagance in this or any other direction.
Finally, is it not possible to consider the sanitary well-doer in
the matter of sewerage rates? As it is, the householder who perfects
and completes the sanitation of his house on his own premises, very
possibly pays more than he who throws the whole of the trouble and
expense on the public authority.
He who takes trouble in this matter is regarded as a fool by the
majority, who say, 'He has got to pay rates; why should he bother.'
That the burden of public authorities and the pollution of rivers would
be very much lessened by the recognition of the well-doer, there can be
no doubt.
In considering the rating of a house for sewerage works it is clear
that every sink, W.C., bath or gully discharging its contents into
a public sewer ought to be charged, and such charge should be
progressive; thus, if 5_s._ were paid for one such discharge hole,
7_s._ 6_d._ should be paid for the second, 10_s._ for the third, 12_s._
6_d._ for the fourth, and so on. In this way a cottage with one kitchen
sink only would pay 5_s._, but a mansion with, say, 10 sinks, baths,
and W.C., would pay 8_l._ 2_s._ 6_d._ Such charges are analogous to
the charges made by water companies, which are higher for the better
class of house. If this or something like this were done, the fixed
charges on the house would produce a considerable sum, which would go
far towards paying the municipal bills for scavenging and sewering.
The balance would have to be raised by a rate on the buildings
themselves, which rate should be in proportion to the cubic contents
of the buildings, without reference to their curtilage, because large
curtilage tends to improve the public health more than all the clauses
of all the sanitary Acts that ever were devised.
The cubic contents should alone be considered in making assessments for
rates. If a man spend money in making his house more wholesome without
increasing its size, and thereby increases its value, it is clearly not
in the interests of the public health that he should be fined by the
sanitary authority for so doing. Nevertheless this is done daily.
That a man should pay for so much water as he uses and for no more, and
that he should pay the municipality for personal services directly in
proportion to those services, seem to be two propositions so simple and
so equitable, and so absolutely fundamental for all just dealing, that
one cannot be surprised at the trouble which follows the neglect of
them.
Great as are the sanitary evils connected with overcrowding, it is
probable that the moral and social harm which results from it is
infinitely more important; and yet we find that our modern socialistic
legislation does everything to encourage and nothing to discourage this
greatest of sanitary and social ills.
It is strange that the cubic contents of a building should be a
factor which is rigorously excluded from consideration when rating
and building regulations are being considered. It seems to the writer
to be obvious that it is by far the most important factor, and one
which cannot be neglected if our municipal regulations are to have any
permanence. The Metropolitan Building Act we have seen puts a premium
on large buildings, by abolishing all restrictions as to curtilage,
provided the building runs from street to street or from street to
'open space,' and never considers the enormous dangers of these large
buildings in relation to epidemic disease and fire.
Every country place would do well to enact that—
(1) The height of a house shall in no case be greater than
the width of the street upon which it abuts.
(2) Every house shall have a minimum private curtilage
upon the ground level, and entirely free from buildings
which shall equal the cubic contents of the house divided
by 50.
In the second paragraph I have chosen 50 for my divisor, because the
average width of a street and the average height of the four-storeyed
house are not far from 50 feet.
Let us take the case of an ordinary four-storeyed house (with no
basement) having an area of 20 × 50 and 50 feet high. Then the
curtilage would be (20 × 50 × 50)/50 = 1,000; _i.e._, the house must
have a curtilage exactly equal to the area occupied by the building—a
back yard probably, 50 feet deep and 20 feet wide. If in addition to
the four storeys there be a basement of 12,500 cubic feet, then an
additional 250 square feet of curtilage would be required, and the
builder who is tempted to overcrowd would be constantly checked by the
price he has to pay for his obligatory curtilage.
The high price of building land is largely due to there being
practically no restriction as to the cubic contents permissible on a
certain area.
If we take the smaller two-storeyed cottages, having a width of 15
feet, a depth of 25, and a height of 20 feet, then the curtilage
would be (15 × 25 × 20)/50 = 150, which is the minimum of the 'model'
by-laws. If the builder put a basement to this cottage of 3,750 cubic
feet, he would have to provide additional 75 square feet of curtilage,
and thus a check would be put upon underground dwellings and high
buildings which obstruct the light and air. On the other hand, there
need be no restrictions on the height or cubic contents of any building
provided its curtilage be ample.
If it were possible for the first house considered to have a height of
100 feet in addition to its basement, then, the cubic contents being
112,500 feet, the curtilage would have to be 2,250 square feet, and the
house and curtilage combined would occupy some 3,250 square feet, or
rather less than ¹⁄₁₃ of an acre.
It is probable that a comprehensive rule of this kind would
satisfactorily keep builder and site speculator in order, while it
placed a minimum of restriction on the originality and fancy of
architect and builder.
Builders of houses wholly detached from other houses or boundaries by a
distance equal to the height of the house should be allowed to escape
altogether from the harassing 'model' by-laws and the tyranny of the
surveyor.
I would say finally—
1. That overcrowding is the greatest of all sanitary evils, and far and
away the greatest of all moral evils.
2. That whatever increases the cost of the dwelling inevitably
increases overcrowding.
3. That overcrowding is facilitated by modern methods of sanitation.
4. That, unless the crowding of houses be prevented, great schemes of
sewerage and water-supply will eventually make the health of a district
worse instead of better.
5. That 'open spaces' and public gardens do not compensate for the lack
of light and air in the dwelling or of curtilage around it.
What one may call municipal luxuries are not permissible if they
permanently increase the cost of the dwelling.
If such luxuries be self-supporting they may be permissible, but it is
clear to my mind that, as a rule, they should be left to be provided by
private munificence or voluntary public subscription. They ought never
to be paid for out of the rates.
The avowed policy of many municipalities is to practise a maximum of
extravagance, in the belief that such extravagance benefits the poor,
and these vicarious philanthropists receive a willing support from
those who are directly interested in such schemes.
6. That if great schemes for sewerage, or water supply, or the
provision of open spaces, be effected by loans which increase the rates
for long terms, and thereby permanently increase the cost of the
dwelling, they will inevitably lead to a deterioration in the public
health and morals. Some of these schemes _facilitate_ overcrowding,
while _increased rates_, by raising the cost of the dwelling, _compel_
it.
7. Municipal ostentation is wholly indefensible. To build palatial
offices costing a million and more of money, and thereby saddle the
ratepayers with another loan, is indefensible. To buy a cocked hat for
the mayor out of the rates (as did a less ambitious municipality) is
equally indefensible, and serves no useful purpose except to raise a
laugh.
We have been long accustomed to hear that our chief sanitary necessity
in this world is pure water. This would be quite true if we were fish.
But it is obvious that the purity of the air we breathe is of far
greater importance than the purity of the water we drink, seeing that
we must take a draught of air about twenty times a minute, while many
of us do not take a draught of raw water from week's end to week's end.
If the huge death-rate of the Strand were due to impure water, we may
be sure that there would be no lack of discussion thereupon; but as it
is due to overcrowding, and the filthiness of the air consequent upon
overcrowding, we hear nothing about it. To make any serious attempt
to check overcrowding would interfere with trade, and therefore it
is considered silly and futile to discuss such a matter. Any man who
supposes that considerations of hygiene will be allowed to interfere
with trade, is, I think, deceived. At all events, I have no such belief.
My sole object in discussing these matters is to warn country places
against blindly following the lead of London in sanitary matters.
CHAPTER V
THE CIRCULATION OF ORGANIC MATTER[3]
It is quite impossible to define 'organic matter,' or to indicate the
line, if there be any, between organic and inorganic.
Organic matter is the material of which living things are made. When
a chemist analyses anything which is the product of life, whether
vegetable or animal, he often speaks of his incombustible residue or
ash as 'inorganic matter,' but this is clearly an arbitrary use of the
term, for this incombustible residue has formed an indispensable part
of one living thing, and may in due time be incorporated with other
living things as something which they cannot do without.
It may well be that everything of which we have knowledge (even
including the igneous rocks) has at one time or another formed part of
a living organism, and it is certain that a large proportion of the
commoner chemical elements may form a part, more or less indispensable,
of the bodies and framework of plants or animals.
Oxygen, hydrogen, nitrogen, carbon, chlorine, sulphur, phosphorus,
iron, sodium, potassium and calcium seem to be indispensable to almost
every living thing. Many more of the elements are constantly found in
some organisms, while others, such as lead, mercury, silver, &c., may
be temporarily incorporated with living bodies.
We shall deal mainly with those elements which are pre-eminently
mobile, which are constantly changing and exchanging, combining and
separating, and which are readily combustible. For practical purposes
one might, indeed, use the terms 'organic' and 'combustible' to signify
the same thing.
With regard to solid matter, the power of readily circulating implies
a readiness of combustibility, but it must be remembered that there is
no hard line between combustible and incombustible. This is a matter of
temperature, and many things which are incombustible here are said to
be blazing in the sun.
The combustion of organic matter may take place slowly, or with
moderate rapidity, or with explosive violence.
When we burn coal, which is a vegetable product, we find that the
carbon and hydrogen escape as carbonic acid and water, accompanied
by nitrogen, sulphuric acid, and volatile hydrocarbons. The residue
consists mainly of silica and alumina, which are removed from the
furnace in the form of clinker and ash. The water ultimately returns to
the earth in the form of rain or dew; the carbonic acid is ultimately
absorbed by green plants, and, by stimulating the growth of these,
helps to furnish us with more combustible material; while the residue
is almost a waste product. Thus, in this example we find that the
carbon and watery vapour readily 'circulate,' while the residue can
only do so after a long interval of time, and is practically lost. The
volatile hydrocarbons and sulphuric acid, being poisonous to herbage,
are a source of practical loss rather than gain.
Let us take next the case of an animal, which is really a living
furnace, browsing in a field; as it browses we may often see the
breath, which is the smoke of this furnace, laden with carbonic acid
and water, escaping from its mouth and nostrils, and it is probable
that the green leaves of the herbage absorb this carbonic acid almost
as soon as it escapes, and, appropriating the carbon, return oxygen
to the animal to help its respiration and combustion. The animal as
it eats continues to grow and increase in bulk and value, whereas the
artificial furnace in which the coal is burnt tends steadily to wear
out and decrease in value. As it browses and grows, the droppings of
the animal nourish the herbage which here and there, by patches of more
vigorous growth and deeper green, afford sure evidence of the value of
these waste products.
In this arrangement there is no waste, for both the animal and the
herbage, by a process of mutual exchange and the circulation of organic
matter, increase in value.
Not only is there no waste, but, strange as it may seem, there is a
positive gain, with no loss whatever. The furnace and the fuel are both
increased! This increase can only be apparent, and not real, for it is
well known that although we may alter the form of matter, we can add
nothing to and subtract nothing from the sum total of the world.
One would say that this apparent increase is due to the stimulating
effect of the excreta upon the soil, which enables us to draw something
extra from that inexhaustible storehouse of plant-food and water, and
enables the animal to use these materials, instead of allowing them to
drain to the springs, and so find their way to the sea. We know that a
far greater proportion of the rainfall percolates through barren soil
than through soil bearing crops. If this be so, there is a practical
increase of the land at the expense of the water.
Again, we must remember that our knowledge of the sources of the gases
of the atmosphere is not complete. It may be that all the oxygen of the
air is furnished by the green leaves of plants, and all the carbonic
acid by processes of respiration and combustion, but we are by no
means sure of this. Of the sources of the atmospheric nitrogen we know
nothing. Now it is certain that much of the carbon of the atmosphere
is appropriated by the plants, and much of the oxygen by the animals.
If among the herbage there be plants of clover, it is now certain that
much of the atmospheric nitrogen will be drawn into the soil to nourish
these plants and generally to increase their fertility. Whether the
return of oxygen, carbon, and nitrogen is, in the long run, equal to
the intake we cannot tell.
When, however, we ponder upon the gradual increase of vegetable soil
or humus with which the bare rocks have been clothed in the course of
ages, it is almost impossible not to come to the conclusion that the
humus, and with it the fertility of the soil, has steadily increased
at the expense of the sea on the one hand, and, possibly, of the
atmosphere on the other. To put the matter in the form of question and
in other terms, 'Does the _Lithosphere_ increase at the expense of the
_Atmosphere_ and the _Hydrosphere_?' Does the land increase at the
expense of sea and air? Be this as it may, it seems certain that by
scrupulous return to the soil of all that comes out of it the resources
of Nature are made increasingly available for the benefit of man.
When organic matter is mixed with water, a process of putrefaction and
fermentation is started, and the organic matter, instead of undergoing
oxidation, is reduced, and among the commoner products of this process
are ammonia with sulphuretted hydrogen and marsh-gas, which are both
combustible. These processes furnish us with other combustible
matters, among the commonest of which are the alcohols, the familiar
products of fermentation.
It is interesting to note the tendency of organic matter, when mixed
with water, to give rise to explosive and combustible products.
Explosions in cesspools and sewers have occurred many times. When wet
hay is stored in stack it catches fire. When we stir the mud at the
bottom of a pond or river, bubbles of combustible marsh-gas rise to
the surface. The coal measures are due to the storing under water of
semi-aquatic plants which have been preserved by being silted up, and
we know that coal is full of olefiant gas, marsh-gas, sulphuretted
hydrogen and carbon monoxide, which are all combustible, and that
the carbonaceous residue, charged with volatile and combustible
hydrocarbons, forms the chief fuel of the civilised world. Peat is
formed in ways analogous to that of coal, and the so-called mineral
oils are certainly the products of organic matter which has been silted
up.
These subterranean stores of combustibles, all of organic origin,
are, as we know, prodigious in quantity. Nobody can predict the time
which it will take to exhaust the coal measures of the world, and we
know for a fact that the sacred fires of Baku on the Caspian, fed by
subterranean reservoirs of naphtha, have been burning for centuries.
When we see the end of a tin of 'preserved meat' bulged, we know that
the gas-forming organisms have been at work within, and when the bed
of the lower reaches of the Mississippi rises as a small mud mountain,
spluttering with carburetted hydrogen, we know that analogous forces
have been in operation. It seems, indeed, to be a law of Nature that
the ultimate destiny of organic matter is to 'circulate,' and that if
it does not do so quietly, as in the ordinary processes of nutrition in
plants and animals, it merely bides its time, and ultimately attains
its end with more or less destructive violence.
Nitre (nitrate of potash or nitrate of soda) is an organic product, and
sulphur is an essential constituent of all or nearly all organisms. Of
the three ingredients of gunpowder, two (charcoal and saltpetre) are,
it is certain, of exclusively organic origin, and the third, sulphur,
may be so also.
All the common combustibles with which we are familiar are certainly
of organic origin, and one is almost forced to the conclusion that in
this world life must have preceded combustion. If we are to explain
what _has been_ by what _is_, such a conclusion is irresistible. Are
we quite sure that volcanoes, which are seldom far from the sea, are
not fed by old deposits of organic matter which has collected in the
primeval ocean, and, like the more recent coal measures, have been
silted up?
What has been the destiny of the protoplasm of the countless animals
and plants which are found in geologic strata? What part have ancient
microbes had in the formation and disruption of the successive layers
of which this earth is formed? These are questions which force
themselves upon the mind, but which I will not attempt to answer. This
biological view of the cosmogony which subjects the world, equally with
all that is upon it, to the laws of development, evolution, and decay,
does not, I believe, present so many difficulties as might at first
sight appear.
_Omne vivum ex vivo_ is a law of Nature, and all organic bodies spring
from organic antecedents. Organic matter is our capital in this world,
and the more frequently we can turn it over, and the more quickly and
efficiently we can make it circulate, the more frequent will be our
dividends. If we burn organic matter we may get a good dividend of
energy, but nothing further is to be expected. The construction of the
furnace involves an outlay of capital, which steadily diminishes as the
furnace wears out by frequent use. If we burn organic matter merely to
be rid of it, we spend our money for the sole purpose of dissipating
our capital. The function of fire is to destroy and sterilise.
If we mix organic matter with large quantities of water, we have to
encounter all the evils and annoyance of putrefaction, and if, when so
mixed, we send it to the sea, we have no material gain of any kind. We
spend our money for the purpose of dissipating our capital.
We may place the water containing the organic matter upon the land,
and in tropical countries this is done, with excellent effect, for the
production of rice, a semi-aquatic plant, which, according to Professor
Georgeson, Professor of Agriculture in the Imperial University of
Tokio, is said to prefer its nitrogen in the form of ammonia. The same
authority states that nitrification does not take place under water,
and careful experiments carried out at Tokio show that sulphate of
ammonia is a much better manure for irrigated rice than nitrate of soda.
In our damp climate sewage farming has proved a dismal failure, and
the difficulties seem to increase with the quantity of water which has
to be dealt with. Excess of water drowns the humus, and nitrification
cannot go on in a soil the pores of which are closed by excess of
moisture.
The living earth, teeming with aërobic microbes, must be allowed to
breathe. It needs for this purpose a certain amount (about 30 per
cent.) of moisture; but it stands drowning no better than a man does,
and if it be drowned, agricultural failure is inevitable.
If we carefully return to the upper layers of the humus, in which air
and microbes exist in plenty, the residue of everything which we
extract from it, we inevitably increase the thickness of the humus and
its fertility. Our capital increases, and our dividends increase and
recur with a frequency which depends upon the climate.
With thrifty and high cultivation it may, indeed, prove profitable to
compensate defects of climate by the use of glass and artificial heat.
The part played in the economy of Nature by fungi and bacteria—the new
learning of the last half-century—is an addition to human knowledge
which is destined to revolutionise our views of many natural phenomena.
It has already exercised enormous propulsive power on human thought,
and has stimulated our imagination scarcely less than when, to use the
words of Froude, 'the firm earth itself, unfixed from its foundations,
was seen to be but a small atom in the awful vastness of the universe.'
This knowledge has provided us with a new world, peopled with organisms
in numbers which, like the distances of the astronomers and the periods
of the geologists, are really unthinkable by the human mind. Their
variety also, both in form and function, is, for practical purposes,
infinite.
When, with the help of the many inventions of the optician and the
dyer, we catch a glimpse of things which a few years back were
'undreamt of in our philosophy,' and when we reflect that these
organisms are certainly the offspring of 'necessity,' and are probably
mere indications of infinities beyond, we cannot be too thankful for
the flood of light which these discoveries have shed upon the enormity
of human ignorance.
The lower animals and the lower vegetable organisms (fungi and
bacteria) co-operate in a remarkable way in the circulation of organic
matter.
In the autumn the gardener, with a view to what is called 'leaf
mould,' sweeps the dead leaves into a heap, where they are exposed to
air and rain. This heap when thus treated gets hot, and last autumn I
found that the temperature of such a heap had risen in the course of a
week or so to 104° F., and remained at a temperature considerably above
that of the surrounding air during the whole winter. On turning it over
after a month or so one found in it a large number of earthworms and
endless fungoid growths visible to the naked eye, and one felt sure
that it was swarming with countless millions of bacteria, invisible
except to the highest powers of the microscope. In the beginning of
March this heap, much reduced in size, was spread loosely over a
patch of ground which was previously dug. If one examined that ground
to-day one would scarcely recognise the structure of leaves, and in a
few weeks more it will have become nothing but ordinary garden mould,
and anything planted in it will grow with vigour. This is a familiar
everyday fact.
We know also that noisome filth spread over a field by the farmer in
the autumn or winter loses its offensiveness in a few days, and by
the spring neither our eyes nor noses give us any clue to the cause
of the fertility of the field which is covered with ordinary 'mould.'
This process of 'humification' is largely due to earthworms and other
earth dwellers, which pass the earth repeatedly through their bodies,
and in doing so reduce it to a very fine powder. I have examined worm
castings picked off a lawn, and which, after being slowly dried, have
been gently sifted through muslin. Those who have never examined a worm
casting in this way will be interested to know of what an impalpable
dust the greater part is composed, and will also note the considerable
size of the pieces of flint and grit which the animal has used in its
living mill, and which have been separated by the muslin sieve.
These castings are full of microbes, and those who will take the
trouble to scatter the smallest conceivable pinch of this impalpable
dust upon a sterilised potato, after the manner and with all the
precautions familiar to bacteriologists, will obtain an abundant and
varied growth of bacteria and moulds, which will completely baffle
their powers of enumeration and discrimination.
The greatest hindrance in the bacterial examination of the soil is this
_embarras de richesses_, which makes the isolation of different species
a matter of extreme difficulty.
The bacteria exist in the soil in countless millions, but it must be
remembered that they get fewer as we go deeper. The first few inches
of the soil are, in the matter of bacterial richness, worth all the
rest, and at a depth of five or six feet they appear to be almost
non-existent. The practical lesson which we have to lay to heart in
applying this knowledge is that the upper layers of the soil are the
potent layers in bringing about the circulation of organic matters,
and that if we wish to hasten this process we must be careful to place
our organic refuse near the surface, and not to bury it deeply, a
process by which the circulation is inevitably delayed or practically
prevented. If we bury it deeply we not only get no good, but we may get
harm by poisoning our wells and springs.
It is the same with organic liquids. If these be poured on the surface,
the 'living earth' (_i.e._ the humus stuffed with animal and microbial
life) purges them of their organic matter, and transmits a relatively
pure liquid to the deeper layers. If they be taken to the barren
subsoil direct, as in underground sewers and cesspools, they escape the
purifying action of air and aërobic organisms, and inevitably poison
the water. Filthy liquids accumulating in cesspools and leaking _under
pressure_ to our wells have cost us health and money incalculable.
Liquids poured upon the surface cannot, owing to the crumby nature of
the humus, exert any appreciable hydraulic pressure. This is a fact of
huge importance in the practical management of organic refuse.
All effete organic matter instantly becomes the prey of animals and
plants. The dead body of an animal teems with life—_Le roi est mort,
vive le roi_. M. Mégnin, a skilled entomologist and a member of the
French Academy of Medicine, has made a study, which is full of gruesome
interest, of the living machinery which makes away with the bodies of
animals not buried but exposed to the air and protected from beasts of
prey.
M. Mégnin shows that the destruction of the animal is accomplished in
no haphazard fashion, but that successive squadrons of insects are
attracted by the successive stages of putrefaction.
The first squadron which arrives, sometimes before death and always
before putrefaction, consists entirely of dipterous insects,
house-flies and their relative, the blow-fly.
The next squadron are also diptera, and are said to be attracted by the
commencing odour of decomposition. These squadrons use the carcase as a
procreant cradle, and thus ensure the nourishment of the larvæ so soon
as they are hatched. Amongst these flesh-seeking flies there are said
to be specialists which prefer the flesh of particular animals.
The third squadron is attracted when the fat begins to undergo an acid
fermentation. These consist of coleoptera and lepidoptera, beetles and
butterflies, and among them is _Dermestes Lardarius_, the Bacon Beetle.
When the fats become cheesy the diptera reappear, and among them is
_Pyophila Casei_, the fly which breeds jumpers in cheese, which is
accompanied by a beetle, whose larvæ are connoisseurs in rancidity.
When the carcase becomes ammoniacal, black, and slimy, it is visited by
a fifth squadron of flies and beetles.
And these are succeeded by the sixth squadron, consisting of acari
or mites, whose function it is to dry up the moisture and reduce the
carcase to a mummy-like condition.
The dried carcase proves attractive to the seventh squadron, consisting
of beetles and moths, some of which are the familiar pests of the
housewife, the furrier, and the keepers of museums. These animals gnaw
the softer parts, such as ligaments, and leave nothing but a fine
powder behind them, which is in fact their dung.
The last and eighth squadron consists solely of beetles, which clean up
the débris, in the shape of dung, shells, pupa cases, &c., of the seven
squadrons which have preceded them.
M. Mégnin, being an entomologist and not a bacteriologist, deals
exclusively with the insects concerned in making away with a carcase,
but it is evident that bacteria work hand in hand with them.
There are many other instances which may be quoted of the co-operation
of fungi with other organisms, and it is only of late years that we
have appreciated the fact of _symbiosis_, or the living together of two
organisms for the mutual benefit of each. This fact was first pointed
out in so-called lichens, which are now shown to be complex bodies
consisting of a fungus and an alga, living in symbiotic community for
the mutual benefit of each.
It was next shown that the papilionaceous leguminosæ are unable to
flourish without certain bacterial nodules which grow upon their roots,
and by the instrumentality of which they can appropriate the nitrogen
of the air, and thus the fact, familiar for centuries, that the
leguminosæ leave the ground in a state of great fertility, while they
are singularly independent of nitrogenous manures, has been explained.
But if the plants themselves are independent of dung, it is not so,
apparently, with the symbiotic nodules, which seem to flourish far more
vigorously in rich garden ground than they do in comparatively poor
farm land. Thus Sir John Lawes has grown clover in a rich old garden
for forty-two years, and has had luxuriant crops every year.
According to my own observation on the scarlet runner bean these
nodules are more plentiful upon the roots which grow superficially than
upon those which run deeply.
Symbiosis is observable in many plants other than the leguminosæ,
and it is certain that many of our big forest trees depend for their
nourishment upon fungi which grow upon their roots.
All animals appear to be symbiotic, for we all carry about millions
of microbes, which must fairly be regarded as junior partners in our
economy, and which we cannot do without. The microbe which has been
chiefly studied—the _Bacterium Coli commune_—appears to be essential
for certain digestive processes which go on in the intestines while
we live; and when we die, this microbe is active in starting the dead
body upon that cycle of events which is one form of the 'Circulation of
Organic Matter.'
Now it is certain that the dung of all animals swarms with bacteria and
allied organisms when it leaves the intestines, and it seems highly
probable that excrement carries with it the biological machinery which
is necessary for its dissolution and ultimate humification.
My friend, Mr. George Murray, F.R.S., the keeper of the Botanical
Department of the British Museum, whose learning in fungology is well
known, has kindly furnished me with an elaborate list of 139 genera of
fungi which flourish on excrement.
Of these 139 genera, Mr. Murray has tabulated no less than 628 species
which are known to flourish on excrement.
Of the 628 species, 226 have been found on the dung of more than one
genus of animals, but no less than 402 species of fungi are peculiar to
the excrement of only one genus of animals.
Of these 402 species of fungi, 91 are peculiar to the dung of the ox;
78 to the horse; 68 to the hare and rabbit; 30 to the dog; 25 to the
sheep; 28 to birds; 21 to man; 16 to the mouse; 9 to the deer; 7 to the
pig; 7 to the wolf; and 22 to other animals.
This search for fungi in excrement is necessarily incomplete. In
Mr. Murray's list it is evident that the greatest number of species
has been found in the dung of animals which are domesticated and
common, and which offer facilities to the fungologist. The numbers
are startling, but when we consider that the dung of every living
thing which crawls or burrows, or swims or flies, has properties which
are peculiar to it, and which fit it to become the nidus of some
peculiar fungoid or bacterial growth, the part played by fungi in the
distribution and circulation of organic matter cannot be over-estimated.
The facts which have been recounted, and which seem to show that
fungi and bacteria are necessary for the growth and development of
even the highest plants and animals, and that fungi and animals are
equally necessary for the dissolution of organic matter, point to the
conclusion that the correlation of the biological forces in this world
is no less exact than the correlation of the physical forces. The
uniform composition of the atmosphere, except under special and local
conditions, is a fact which tends in the same direction.
While it is impossible to over-estimate the debt which agriculture
owes to chemistry, we have, nevertheless, learnt from the
bacteriologist that there are biological problems underlying the
question of fertility, and that a mere chemical estimation of the
constituents of organic manure is insufficient, by itself, to fix its
manurial value. It is by the agency of bacteria that organic matter is
changed into nitrates and other soluble salts, which are absorbed by
the roots of plants and serve to nourish them. This change only takes
place provided the temperature and moisture are suitable and the ground
be properly tilled. Drought and frost arrest the change, and excess of
moisture, by closing the pores of the soil, does the same thing.
Organic manures are economical in the long run, because if the weather
is adverse they bide their time until the advent of 'fine growing
weather.' If one season prove unfavourable, a large amount of the
organic matter remains in the soil to nourish the next crop. This is
not the case when soluble chemical manures are used.
That it is necessary to put dung upon the ground if we are to maintain
the fertility of the soil has been the experience of all peoples in
every age.
[Illustration: Fig. 35.]
I will now allude to a diagram (fig. 35) which represents by a curve
the yearly produce of barley, in bushels per acre, grown continuously
on the same plots of ground for forty years, but with this difference,
that one plot (represented by the upper curve) received 14 tons per
annum per acre of farmyard manure, while the other, represented by
the lower curve, has been unmanured continuously. This diagram has
been constructed from figures given by Sir John Lawes and Sir Henry
Gilbert in the 'Transactions of the Highland and Agricultural Society
of Scotland' for 1895. I have replaced fractions by the nearest whole
figure. The fluctuations of both these curves are very great, and it
will be noticed that they are exactly parallel to each other. This
teaches us that weather is the most important factor in agricultural
success, and shows the extreme danger to the farmer of 'placing all
his eggs in one basket,' as has been done by the so-called farmers of
the Far West, who have attempted to grow wheat _only_ by the process
of scratching the prairie, without returning any dung to the soil, and
many of whom have been financially swamped by the first bad season.
Taking the average of the forty years, it will be found that the
produce of the manured land averaged 49 bushels per acre per annum,
while the unmanured land gave only 16½ bushels.
I might have added to the diagram a third curve showing the produce of
that plot of ground which, of all those manured with artificials, gave
the highest yield. The yield of this plot for the whole forty years
averaged 46 bushels, or only 3 bushels short of the average yield of
the plot treated with farmyard manure. If, however, we take the average
yield of the three plots for each of the four decades comprising the
forty years, the value of the organic matter becomes very manifest.
Thus the yield for each decade was with
Farmyard dung 44·9 51·5 50·0 51·6
Artificial manure 48·7 49·4 42·8 41·5
Unmanured 22·2 17·5 13·7 12·6
It will be observed that the yield from artificial manuring only
exceeded the yield from the farmyard plot in the first decade, when
it showed an excess of 3·8 bushels. In the other three decades it was
deficient by 2·1, 7·2, and 10·1 bushels.
The deficiency of the unmanured plot in each decade, as compared with
the farmyard plot, was 22·7, 34·0, 37·3, and 39·0.
These figures are very convincing, and as practical agriculturists seem
to be now agreed that farming is hopeless without an adequate amount of
live-stock to furnish dung, no more need be said upon this head.
But is there no danger in using organic refuse, which may be infective
and dangerous, as an application to the land? To this I should say
emphatically 'No,' provided it be put in the upper layers of the soil,
and the soil be tilled. Our organic refuse, when allowed to putrefy
in water, and to trickle _under pressure_ to our wells, or run direct
into our sources of drinking-water, has turned millions of pounds into
the pockets of members of my profession, but when rationally used as a
top-dressing for the well-tilled soil it has never, that I am aware of,
produced any harm.
I have tried to investigate this matter. Some five years ago I
constructed a well five feet deep in the middle of a garden which is
plentifully manured with all that is most loathsome to our senses. This
well is lined to the very bottom with concrete pipes, further protected
by an external coating of concrete; the junctions of the pipes are
securely closed by cement, and there is a good parapet and efficient
cover (see page 65 and figs. 22 and 23).
Now no water can possibly enter the well, except through the bottom.
The water in it is clear and bright, and since its construction no
mud has collected on the bottom. The sides of the pipes also remain
absolutely clean, so much so that when, in 1895, I showed this well to
a party of scientific friends, some of them dropped a hint that it had
possibly been scrubbed in honour of their visit. This, however, was not
the case.
The water from this well has been examined three times chemically, with
the result that it has been pronounced free from organic impurities,
and three bacteriological examinations have been made, with the result
of showing a bacterial purity which is quite exceptional. The last
examination was made by Dr. Cartwright Wood in November 1895, and
showed a very high degree of bacterial purity. The water was specially
examined by Dr. Wood for the presence of _Bacterium Coli commune_, but
with negative results. Dr. Wood writes: 'The results are exceedingly
satisfactory, and I must admit surprised me very much.' A surface-well
on this pattern has lately been constructed in a village near Andover,
and the results, as far as the appearance of the well and water is
concerned, seem to be entirely satisfactory.
When people live crowded together in cities, the difficulties connected
with the cleaning of the houses are very great. After the invention of
the steam-engine it was found possible to supply even the top floors
of the highest houses with an ample supply of water. We accordingly
abolished the scavenger, and adopted a complete system of water-carried
sewage. In this way our houses have been cleansed, and our rivers and
surface-wells have been fouled, and it is difficult to say whether at
present there be a balance of advantage or disadvantage. We have had
epidemics of cholera and of typhoid, and it is almost certain that
there is no one here present but has suffered in some way or other from
the 'drains.'