Millions from Waste
CHAPTER I
WASTE: ITS RELATION TO COMMERCE AND NATIONAL ECONOMY
Extravagance is the inevitable corollary to cheap living. The expression “living” is used in its very broadest sense, and is by no means confined to the mere consumption of foodstuffs. If living be cheap the thousand and one attributes complementary thereto, from wearing apparel to creature comforts for the home and from raw materials to finished goods, must necessarily rule low in price. Under such conditions the very fact that it is cheaper, as well as easier and simpler, to incur a further capital charge, rather than to endeavour to induce additional service from what is already in hand, though possibly damaged slightly, prompts waste, in precisely the same way as it is more expedient to replace the damaged part of a standardized article, whether it be a motor-car, sewing machine, typewriter, or watch, than to attempt to carry out a repair.
The ready availability of a spare part directly encourages waste more or less. The convenience is provided at an attractive figure to appeal to the consumer, while to the producer it renders a higher proportion of profit than is attainable when it forms part and parcel of the complete finished article. The latter is not marketed at the aggregate of the prices of the integral parts, as one may promptly verify if they feel so disposed. From this it must not be imagined that replacement per se is to be condemned, except that it is often attended by the complete loss of the displaced and damaged part. Were the conservation of the removed part conducted the system would be deserving of whole-hearted support, because in this way the material of which it is wrought would be available for further use. Those firms which insist upon the return of a damaged section before they undertake to forward the replacement are pursuing a wise policy. It is true they consign the faulty or worn part to the junk pile, but, at intervals, the latter is turned over to the manufacturing interests to undergo further exploitation.
It is also somewhat significant to record that improvidence is intimately associated with cheap labour. Cheap living and cheap labour go hand-in-hand. As a matter of fact, until recently the average working members of the community, from the comparative point of view, have been guilty of greater improvidence than those who are well-blessed with this world’s goods.
This apparent anomaly is readily explicable. In the houses of the wealthy the accumulation of residues of every description must necessarily attain imposing dimensions. But these wastes are not lost to commerce and industry. In the majority of cases they are handed over to the employees by whom they are regarded as legitimate perquisites. To gratify some individual whim, passing fancy, or from inherent tendency to bargain, these residues are carefully garnered and harboured to be converted into cash through one or other of the many purchasing channels which appear to diverge to these centres. The cooks dispose of bones, fats, and greases, as well as other wastes from the kitchen, to the itinerant rag-and-bone merchant; rejected wearing apparel finds its way to the wardrobe dealer; worn-out copper, iron and aluminium culinary utensils, as well as divers other metallic odds and ends gravitate to the specialists in old iron and waste metals; superfluous produce from the kitchen garden meets with profitable distribution, while even the swill is able to command its market.
It is the opportunity to profit in pocket from such “extras” which acts as the incentive to collect, separate and to bargain for the sale of wastes from a pretentious house. But, as the social scale is descended, the tendency to keep a tight hand upon the refuse suffers unconscious relaxation. This is primarily due to the fact that the volume of such accumulations undergoes attenuation as the social ladder is descended. As the bulk diminishes so does the impression, “Oh! it is not worth while troubling about!” become accentuated. Finally, when we reach the bottom of the ladder—the average working household—the quantity of waste is considered to be so trifling as to be deemed quite unworthy of consideration. Consequently, here we find the whole, or at least 90 per cent., of the refuse consigned to the fire, or to the rubbish heap, instead of being preserved and turned into a profitable channel to receive a new lease of utility.
As with the home so with the office and factory. The small workshop or business establishment accommodated within one or two rooms records its proportion of waste, but it apparently is so slender as to be comparatively insignificant. Furthermore, as a rule, it is so varied as to aggravate the thought of being more nuisance than it is worth. Accordingly, the refuse is neither sorted nor retained, but, especially if it be combustible, meets with an untimely end. On the other hand, in the large factory, the accumulations being of distinct magnitude, segregation and careful retention are observed to facilitate ready sale, while arrangements are even completed for the periodical clearance of the refuse at mutually satisfactory if not prevailing market prices. Whether the waste ever commands its real intrinsic value is a matter of opinion, because we have never been persuaded to regard the residue disposal problem in the strict commercial sense.
Reflection gives rise to the question—What is waste? A more appropriate explanation than a paraphrase of Palmerston’s famous dictum concerning dirt would be difficult to find. Waste is merely raw material in the wrong place. In the spirit fostered by our traditional improvidence we have sought to adapt another existing term to meet the situation. We glibly dismiss waste as rubbish. It is not, but because we have been too indolent to occupy our minds in the elaboration of further possible applications for what we do not actually require for conduct of the operations with which our individual exertions are identified, we seek to satisfy our consciences in the easiest manner. In so doing we essay to flout a fundamental law of Nature—the indestructibility of matter. We have failed to appreciate that what may be of no immediate value to ourselves may, indeed can, with judicious and scientific handling be persuaded to serve in the capacity of indispensable raw material to other ranges of endeavour. It may even go so far as to supply the wherewithal for the creation of new industries, widening the possible fields of employment, and contribute pronouncedly towards the wealth of the nation.
This fact can be brought home very conclusively. In the opening days of this century the amount of fats, oils, and greases which were allowed to run to waste was colossal. They were cheap commodities and, although they occur in greater or lesser degree with the majority of organic materials in popular request, not a thought was expended upon the possible losses which their discard with so-called wastes represented. But, during the past few years, the demand for these substances has advanced by leaps and bounds. They have become vital to the table in several forms, and this request has brought the food-producing industry into conflict with another trade of far-reaching importance, namely, the manufacture of soap. The situation is rather peculiar, as I point out in a subsequent chapter. Some idea of the volume of fats absorbed in the preparation of margarine and soap, respectively, may be gathered from the narration of the fact that one of the largest soap manufactories in the world demands the supply of fat in a steady stream of about 5,000 tons per week.
A few years ago the activities of this particular firm were concentrated upon the manufacture of soap. It was the solitary product. But it had its attention attracted to the growth and possibilities of the margarine trade, and it decided to enter this market. To-day, its activities are divided between the production of the two commodities, and, curiously enough, almost equally. From its works issue out about 6,000 tons of soap and 4,000 tons of margarine every week.
This merely represents the endeavours of one firm. There are scores of others following a similar line of action. The result is that the demand for fats has reached an unprecedented level. At the moment of writing the coarsest grade of fat is able to command approximately £50—$250—a ton. Is it surprising therefore that every effort should now be made to extract the fats, grease, and oil associated with every form of organic waste, and that keen effort should be made to secure increasing quantities of waste capable of yielding this material?
So far as the public is concerned this spirited search for fat may be regarded with misgiving, if not absolute alarm. The wizardry of the chemist is acknowledged, and the thought possibly prevails that much of the fat now being turned into margarine is really only fitted for the production of soap. But alarmist or pessimistic feelings in this direction may be speedily allayed, though it is permissible to point out that ten years ago much fat was turned into the cleanser which should have been utilized as a foodstuff, inasmuch as its freshness and wholesomeness were above all criticism. It was merely turned over to the soap-maker because no alternative application was apparent. But conceding the magical qualifications of the chemist, there are some feats which yet remain beyond his powers. The ability to turn bad fat into good for dietetic purposes must be numbered among those achievements which as yet have proved impracticable. If a fat be rancid it cannot possibly be reconditioned for edible purposes. No matter how its preparation may be coaxed and nursed it cannot be converted into a foodstuff. The palate would detect rancidity instantly. Consequently, only the highest grades of animal fat are used for the preparation of margarine; the fact that the big-scale production of a food should have been embraced by the soap-maker merely represents one of those inexplicable coincidences of industry.
It is distinctly interesting, if not actually amusing, to follow what may be described as the utilitarian conjugation of waste. It remains an incubus, if not an unmitigated nuisance, until the chemist, or some other keenly observant individual possessed of a fertile mind, comes along to rake it over and to indulge in experiments. Such efforts are often followed with ill-concealed amusement. A few years since they were even regarded as so much waste of time. In due course some definite conclusion is reached, and the fact becomes driven home that, if such-and-such a process be followed a particular spurned refuse can be utilized as raw material for the production of some specific article. Then scepticism and amusement give way to intense interest and speculative rumination. The new idea is submitted to the stern test of practical application upon a commercial basis, while the financial end of the proposal, which is the determining factor, is carefully weighed.
These complex issues being satisfactorily settled the exploitation of the erstwhile waste, or rubbish, is energetically pursued. It has now become a potentially valuable by-product, and, accordingly, must be worked for all it is worth. Firmly entrenched upon the market development is vigorously pursued, often to culminate in the quondam waste, now an established by-product, being lifted to such a position of commercial eminence as to dispute premier recognition with the staple in the production of which it is incurred. In more than one instance the by-product has even eclipsed the primary product, or at least attained a level of equal importance, while occasionally the staple has even suffered virtual deposition to rank as little else but a by-product. There are even some cases on record where the manufacture of the staple has been abandoned, at all events for a time, because the by-product, the former incubus of the industry has become invested with such far-reaching importance as to demand the concentration of effort upon its production. Waste—by-product—staple: such constitutes the brief evolution of more than one of the world’s leading lines of trading.
Many instances of remarkable topsy-turvydom in this connection might be cited. Possibly one of the most impressive illustrations in this respect, although the transposition is not yet quite complete, is offered by coal-gas. When Clayton first demonstrated the practicability of extracting illuminating gas from coal commercialism feverishly set to work to exploit the gas, and gas only. But the gas proved to be associated with a variety of substances which threatened the very future of Clayton’s discovery. Ammonia fumes poisoned the atmosphere of the room in which the gas was burned to the grave danger of the health—even lives—of the occupants according to the cynics, critics, and caricaturists of the day. The tar carried in suspension in the gas was every whit as exasperating because it condensed in the mains to choke them. Ammonia and tar became the bane of life to the gas-engineers of the period, harassing them to the verge of endurance, while the elimination of the two deleterious substances involved the expenditure of enormous sums of money and prodigious thought.
What is the position to-day. Gas, the staple product from the distillation of coal three-quarters of a century ago, now, to all intents and purposes, is the by-product. The world could roll along very comfortably without it. Indeed, we may have to do so in the near future when the gas is stripped of every other marketable constituent, leaving only a mixture of methane and hydrogen gases to be burned under boilers to raise steam for the generation of electricity in enormous bulk. The ammonia which formerly jeopardized health and lives, and to remove and to throw away which the pioneer engineers strained every nerve, is now trapped to be converted into fertilizer. Then the tar which likewise nearly drove the engineers frantic is now carefully drawn off, collected and resolved into a host of wonderful articles to furnish a diversity of indispensable materials. It would be wearisome to recite the list. It is so lengthy. But it would seem as if the by-products of coal touch every other industry, ranging from dyes to chemicals, flavourings to disinfectants, perfumes to therapeutics and soporifics.
As with coal so with oil. Forty years ago the boring of a well was followed with mixed feelings by the indefatigable driller. A “strike,” while devoutly to be desired, was just as likely to bring dreadful disaster swift and sudden, even death, as wealth untold. The driller probed the earth animated by one idea. This was to tap the subterranean lake of crude petroleum. But in driving his bore the driller invariably crashed through the roof of an underground reservoir of petroleum gas. Ignorant of the value of this product, though painfully aware of its danger if allowed to break away and to get beyond control, the early seekers for oil led this gas through a pipe to a point some distance away. There the flow from the open end was ignited and the gas allowed to burn merrily in the open air. The driller knew no peace of mind until the flame flickered and expired as a result of the exhaustion of the subterranean gasometer. Then, and not until, he could resume his boring for the precious liquid with complacency.
But with passing years and progress came enlightenment. The gas is no longer wasted; it is trapped. In some instances it is led through piping for hundreds of miles to feed hungry furnaces engaged in the making of steel and other products. The earth is even being drilled, not for petroleum, but for its huge supplies of natural gas, and the huge reservoirs thus discovered are being harnessed to the thousand wheels of industry. We even find trains fitted with cylinders carrying natural gas stored under high pressure to furnish light for the convenience of passengers, and to enable dainty meals to be cooked in the kitchens of the dining-cars.
The oil refineries, upon receiving the crude petroleum, set out to recover as much paraffin as they could. This was the primary product, because a brilliant British chemist, Young, had discovered how to distil paraffin from petroleum for lighting, heating, and cooking. It represented a huge advance upon the lamp dependent upon whale oil and the tallow dip. But before the refiners could reach the paraffin they were called upon to wrestle with a lighter spirit which sorely harassed and perplexed them. It was extremely volatile, and highly inflammable—even explosive in the vapour form when mixed with air—and accordingly was construed into a menace to the refinery. It was carefully drawn off and dumped into large pits, where it was burned merely to get rid of it. Its commercial value was set down as nil. A certain quantity was used by laundries and dry-cleaners because of its striking cleansing qualities, but it was used sparingly and cautiously owing to its dangerous character. It could be purchased only with difficulty, and in small quantities by the members of the public, the retailers for the most part being chemists and druggists. If one were glib of tongue and a master of the persuasive art, one might succeed in obtaining as much as half-a-pint in a single purchase.
Suddenly a creative mind evolved the high-speed internal combustion engine, which heralded the coming of the motor-car, the submarine, and more recently the aeroplane and airship. The volatile spirit which hitherto had been spurned and burned wastefully by the refineries was immediately discovered to be invested with a value which had heretofore escaped attention. It formed the ideal fuel for the new motor. Forthwith wanton destruction of the volatile spirit was abandoned. Every drop was carefully collected, and, as time went on and the demand for the light liquid fuel increased, the refiners put forth greater effort to wring every possible dram of petrol from the crude petroleum. Paraffin, which had hitherto been regarded as the staple, was ignored. It even dropped in commercial estimation as a by-product and became a drug on the market, although, fortunately, the refineries hesitated from repeating the practice they had honoured in regard to petrol—summary destruction by fire.
So insistent and overwhelming has grown the demand for petrol that the producers are hard put to it to keep pace with the requirements. A petroleum boom has reverberated around the world, eclipsing in intensity any stampede identified with the search for gold. To these islands the petroleum age has contributed very little wealth, although it has been responsible for revived interest in the exploitation of our shale—another form of waste—but to Russia, the United States of America, Mexico, and the East, where the earth reeks with petroleum, it has brought wealth untold. It has completely transformed the economic outlook of certain nations, and in some instances has served to rescue a country from bankruptcy. To us it is of appreciable significance because, so far, we have been compelled to draw upon distant sources for our requirements and so have to contribute to the national wealth of others, some of whom are our most spirited rivals in trade.
In 1913 our imports of petroleum products aggregated 488,106,963 gallons, valued at £10,856,806—$54,284,030—the contribution from Greater Britain being 22,172,701 gallons, valued at £829,868—$4,149,340. Of this enormous volume 100,858,017 gallons represented petrol for our motors—the waste product of forty years ago at the refineries—for which we had to pay £3,803,397—$19,016,985. In the year when mechanical road propulsion was ushered in petrol could be obtained for about 4d.—8 cents—a gallon: in 1918 it commanded 3s. 6d.—84 cents—a gallon. An increase of over 900 per cent. in value within approximately 35 years represents no mean achievement in commercial expansion, but when it relates to an erstwhile waste product the record is far more sensational.
To relate all the fortunes which have been amassed from the commercialization of what was once rejected and valueless would require a volume. Yet it is a story of fascinating romance and one difficult to parallel in the whole realm of human activity. It was the waste energy of water which laid the foundations of Lord Armstrong’s fortune and the enormous fabric of the huge firm on Tyneside. Sir Hiram Maxim revolutionized warfare by harnessing the wasted kick or recoil to reload and fire his machine-gun, thereby introducing one of the most formidable small arms ever devised to conduct the gentle art of killing. Lord Masham established a new industry and became a millionaire by taking the “chassum” or silk waste—a refuse which had even suffered rejection as a manure because it took such a long time to rot—and utilizing it as a raw material for the production of a new and wonderful range of beautiful fabrics in velvet and plush. It was another textile wizard, Sir Titus Salt, who perfected the process for turning the wool sheared from the back of a member of the camel family roaming the heights of the Andes, and which was classed as sheer rubbish, into the soft glossy fabric known as alpaca.
But one of the most powerful expressions of the possibilities attending the scientific utilization of waste, and one which brings home very forcibly to us the national wealth to be won from refuse, is associated with our woollen industry. Where would Yorkshire be without mungo or shoddy? Dewsbury has become the world’s centre for the disposal of old clothes and woollen rags. Here converge all the streams bearing abandoned flotsam and jetsam into the preparation of which wool has entered. There is scarcely anything more disreputable, if not actually repellent, than a sack of woollen rags. But pass that waste through suitable machines and a wonderful transformation in attractiveness, colouring, and design, as well as texture, is accomplished.
Wool can never be worn out. That is an indisputable axiom in woollen circles. It does not matter how many years ago the textile may first have been prepared, nor the many and varied vicissitudes through which it may have passed; it can be used over and over again. It may have travelled through the machines forty or fifty times, may have graced the form of a hundred persons, may have clothed a scarecrow or have been retrieved from a river in the course of its career. True, with each new lease of life it suffers a certain depreciation, but blended with new wool or cotton it is effectively revived. The history of a fibre of wool would be distinctly romantic and thrilling could it be but written, and even the wildest flights of imagination would be unable to rival stern fact. It is the ability to work and re-work up woollen textile for an indefinite period which has contributed to the prosperity of Yorkshire, and which has enabled this country to build up an export trade in this commodity exceeding £500,000,000—$2,500,000,000—a year in value.
An impressively successful, yet sinister, utilization of waste was brought to light during the war. In their methodical investigation of the dye-stuffs problem the Germans found it necessary to prepare a certain substance which constitutes the starting-point for the production of one of their leading products. Toluol, a by-product from the manufacture of gas, is taken and treated with nitric acid. Now orthonitrotoluol is the specific product in request, but nitrification produces two substances, orthonitrotoluol and paranitrotoluol, respectively. The last-named is of no use whatever, but its production has to be suffered, though, unfortunately, the yield thereof is twice that of the essential article. So far as the industrial pursuit in question is concerned the paranitrotoluol represented a sheer waste.
Now the German, when he encounters a waste, does not throw it away or allow it to remain an incubus. Saturated with the principle that the residue from one process merely represents so much raw material for another line of endeavour, he at once sets to work to attempt to discover some use for a refuse. Manufacturers in other countries were equally troubled with the accumulations of paranitrotoluol because the production of the two substances as a result of nitrifying toluol is strictly in accordance with constitutional chemical law. They also learned that the Germans had succeeded in turning it to advantage. What was this application? This was the poser. They sought enlightenment in this direction but found that the German was resolutely keeping his discovery to himself.
Other countries remained in ignorance until the Germans set out to materialize their fantastic dream of world-wide domination. When their hordes burst upon the frontier defences of Belgium, and their bombardment played sad havoc with the fortifications of Liege and Namur, the world marvelled. The intense destructive power of the high explosive which was being used was something new to warfare. It was promptly investigated, and then the use for the paranitrotoluol, the apparent incubus of the dye-stuffs-producing factories, was discovered. It was being turned into the destructive agent familiarly known as T.N.T., or trinitrotoluol, to give the explosive its true chemical designation.
It is perfectly obvious, from what has been related, that, if one will only devote sufficient energy and fertility of thought to the study of so-called rubbish and its properties, incalculable economic and financial benefits must redound to the individual. And as with individuals so with nations. The British race is generally assailed as being woefully improvident and remiss in the profitable exploitation of waste, but it errs in excellent company. The United States of America are probably far more guilty in this respect. According to the statement of the American Food Administrator the inhabitants of 24 cities between the Atlantic and Pacific Oceans, by ignoring the latent wealth contained in their garbage barrels, are throwing away sufficient grease and fat during the year to produce 30,000,000 one-pound bars of soap. On the other hand, 300 small towns, by pursuing thrift in this direction, are producing sufficient food from the disposal of their swill to yield 50,000,000 additional pounds of pork worth £1,600,000 ($8,000,000) a year, although in this instance the results might be doubled by the practice of more perfect methods. Another 350 towns, which disdain the value of their swill-tubs, are throwing away approximately £2,000,000 ($10,000,000) a year because they are not inclined to take a little trouble concerning the disposal of their garbage.
Contrast the methods obtaining in the United States and Britain with those peculiar to France. That picturesque figure of French civic life, the chiffonnier, is the perennial butt of humorists and cartoonists. But he is a powerful economic factor. Through his efforts millions sterling are saved annually to the French nation. The rag-picker and his colleagues “specializing” in other forms of spoil lurking in the ash-barrel pursue their work so diligently as to secure everything, except vegetable matter, which is capable of being worked up into other forms by the exercise of brains and commercial enterprise. It may not seem a savoury occupation to rake over the repulsive assorted contents of the household dust-bin, but it serves to swell, to an appreciable degree, the streams of raw materials flowing into the insatiable maws of industry. What is left after these industrious toilers have completed their work finds its way to the dust-destructor to assist in the raising of steam to drive engines and generators for the supply of electricity.
The diligent exploitation of waste exercises a far-reaching influence upon the wealth of nations. If we were to turn the whole of our residues, both industrial and domestic, to the utmost account we should be able to cut down our annual expenditure upon purchases from abroad to a very startling degree. Every ton of import saved not only represents the retention of so much sterling in our pocket, but releases a ton of shipping for the movement of other material, not necessarily to these islands, but between other countries, since it must not be forgotten that we derive an appreciable proportion of our national income from carrying the trade of the world. If we were to salvage all the rags entering into the domestic refuse of the nation we could reduce our imports of wool during the year by 19,000 tons, and allow 15,000 tons of shipping space to be devoted to other purposes. From the yield of cotton refuse derived from the dust-bins we could turn out 16,000 tons of new paper. If we were to become miserly in our collection of waste-paper and to turn it back into the mills, we could secure a further 44,000 tons of new paper during the year and save the import of 75,000 tons of wet pulp from Scandinavia. Were all our old tins handed over to the steel-makers we could reproduce from this raw material 74,000 tons of new steel and dispense with 148,000 tons of Spanish ore. The steel obtainable from the re-smelting of old tins alone would furnish sufficient material to construct approximately forty 3,000-ton vessels.
Fortunately, a change in the national habits of extravagance is to be recorded. The increased cost of living is compelling more sparing use of the necessaries of life and industry. The incontrovertible truth of the axiom “Waste not; want not,” although it may sound rather trite, has been brought home to us. But the complete salvage of waste is probably impossible of realization so long as the kitchen stove and furnace remain. Fire is an excellent destructive agency, but is far too handy for the removal from sight, if not from memory, of the multitude of odds and ends incidental to our complex social and industrial existence. With the coming of the electric age, and the supersession of kitchen stoves and factory furnaces by cheap current, the facilities for the ready destruction of what is really valuable raw material under the guise of waste will be removed. In the interests of economy and wealth, both individual and national, it is to be hoped that the coming of the electric era may not be unduly delayed.
CHAPTER II
THE GERMAN CONQUEST OF WASTE
Waste creates wealth. If one desire a convincing illustration of the truth of this latter-day precept one has only to cross the North Sea. It is generally conceded that, at the dawn of the second decade of the twentieth century, the Teutonic Empire had the world at its feet so far as commerce is concerned. There is little reason to doubt but that Germany would have become the super-trading nation of the world within a few more years had not territorial ambition and the lust for military conquest have blinded Reason.
The pre-war wealth of the country, that is as it stood in 1914, is universally acknowledged. But what is not so generally appreciated is the circumstance that, to a very marked degree, this wealth was secured as a result of the scientific utilization of waste. In every ramification of industrial and social activity thrift, system, and organization were conspicuous. Circumstances were primarily responsible for the pursuance of such a policy. Germany is essentially an agricultural country. She was dependent upon outside sources of supply for many of the staple raw materials wherewith to keep her mills and factories going. Consequently she was compelled to rely for her existence upon the margin between buying and selling, and she naturally strove to render this difference as pronounced as possible by turning her purchases to the maximum advantage. Even in the exploitation of her natural resources this tendency was manifest, but little wastage being suffered.
The Germans went farther. From the experience amassed in the development of wealth from waste products they were quite prepared to buy residues from foreign competitors, to ship them to the Homeland, and there to work them up. The country was quite prepared to act as a marine store upon a big scale, because thereby it was able to acquire valuable potential raw materials for infinitesimal expense. The vending countries, as a rule, were quite ready to dispose of their waste at a trifling figure, and often more unfeignedly glad to be rid of what they considered to be a nuisance, comforting themselves with the thought that they had been able to drive good bargains from the sale of what was useless to themselves.
The Teuton buyers were equally satisfied. They generally succeeded in buying useful material at an absurdly low figure. Very often the heaviest item of expense in such transactions was the cost of freighting the waste to Germany, but here they were able to reap distinct advantages from preferential rates. However, such expenditure was speedily recouped because the articles contrived from the erstwhile rubbish commanded a ready sale and at attractive prices. It was by no means uncommon for the Germans to sell the commercial products wrought from the waste back to the very firms whence the last-named had been acquired, and at a considerably enhanced figure.
The strangest feature about these transactions was the keenness with which they were conducted. The countries concerned were far readier to resort to such commercial tactics than to bestir themselves to turn their wastes to similar account, although it must be admitted that the wily Teutons, recognizing the advantage they held, were disposed to invest their processes for translating refuse into commodities with distinct secrecy. They played a gigantic game of bluff and their temerity met with success. If the victims had only reflected they would have realized that such activity was quite possible to themselves; that such enterprise would have provided additional avenues for the employment of their own citizens, and would have contributed materially to their individual commercial wealth.
The Germans ransacked the world for wastes. For instance, who but the Teuton would have gone to stone-fruit packers on the other side of the world and have offered to purchase the stones which the preservers discarded and burned under the factory boilers to assist in raising steam? But the purchasing German firm was astute. The stones were sent home and the packers laughed at the idea of moving such refuse half-way round the world. The buyers suffered the taunts in silence. Upon reaching the German factories the fruit-stones were cracked and the nuts extracted. These were submitted to treatment to yield a wide range of oils, some of which were turned into essences and liqueurs. Then the Germans dispatched much of this reclaimed produce back to the territory where the stones were purchased, where it was bought with avidity, and at inordinately high prices. Little did the packers think that they were buying back their own refuse in another and useful form and were being compelled to pay heavily for the privilege!
The fibrous residue, remaining after the expression of the oil, was turned into cattle-food, much of which also was sold in foreign markets. The nut-shells were turned into carbon or charcoal, which, from its peculiar quality and high grade, was eminently adapted to laboratory and other uses. We were forced to realize that such shells possess distinct virtues, for did we not encourage one and all to save the stones from fruit to furnish the requisite absorbent material with which to equip the gas-masks served to our soldiers to combat the evils of the poison-gas used in the war! In this connection we were completely forestalled by the enemy. Undoubtedly he was encouraged to launch such a devilish weapon from his discovery of a complete antidote to such aggressive measures in the charcoal made from the spurned nut-shells accruing to the fruit-packing country on the other side of the globe.
Sawdust accumulates in Germany as it does in every country where working in wood is practised extensively. But there the waste is not turned into rivers or burned in destructors as in the United States and Canada. Nor is it dumped in unsightly heaps to rot slowly, used to bed-down stock, or distributed over the floors of butchers’ shops and public-houses as in these islands.
A firm conceived the idea of turning this residue to account in the fabrication of a special form of plastic floor-covering. It was mixed with magnesium chloride to form a cement to be applied somewhat after the manner of asphalt, the whole of the area thus being covered and finished off with suitable tools to yield a smooth, level, and attractive finish.
However, it was speedily discovered that this floor-covering suffered from one disability. Magnesium chloride is hygroscopic: it absorbs water, even moisture from the atmosphere, very readily. Consequently it became soft and damp in humid and wet weather. Otherwise it left nothing to be desired, being comfortable to the tread, silent, and warm.
The German is nothing if not thorough. He does not hesitate to harness science to the wheels of industry when the occasion so demands. He realized that to utilize sawdust as a floor-covering it would be necessary to follow strict scientific lines. Accordingly the chemist was called in. He, as a result of prolonged investigations and numerous tests, succeeded in overcoming the outstanding inherent defect of the sawdust paving, and at the same time emphasized that control of the proportions of sawdust and magnesium chloride was essential owing to the first-named varying so widely in its characteristics according to the nature of the wood from which it is derived. Consequently the manufacture of this floor-covering is now supervised by the chemist, and the hygroscopic difficulty has been effectively overcome. The material has achieved a distinct vogue, not only in Germany, but in other countries. It is extremely effective and is relatively inexpensive—the cost averages from 5 to 7 shillings ($1.25 to $1.75) per square yard—bearing in mind its durable and wearing qualities. Incidentally the country has found a highly profitable outlet for its accumulations of sawdust.
The world’s consumption of tin-plate has risen to enormous proportions, the extraordinary expansion of the tinned or canned food industry being responsible for this development. Thousands of tons of steel are absorbed in the manufacture of these containers, as well as hundreds of tons of tin and solder. Upon the removal of the contents the tins are generally thrown away, especially by the prodigal nations. This wastage became so flagrant as to arouse the severe condemnation of economists in every country, but these would-be apostles found it well-nigh hopeless to persuade their compatriots to endeavour to exploit the empty tins. Here and there spasmodic efforts were made upon a limited scale to recover the solder, tin, and steel-plate for further use, but the problem did not prove so easy of solution as it had appeared.
The bulk of the vessel constituted a formidable obstacle, while its susceptibility to the ravages of rust was also discovered to be a distinct drawback. In this country the general practice has beep to crush the tins flat and to feed them into the blast furnaces as scrap, but in this process the tin vanishes up the chimney, while the solder is also lost, though the steel-plate, which forms 99 per cent. of the composition of the vessel, becomes available as raw material. Nevertheless, although the quantity of tin used is trifling, representing only approximately one per cent., the Germans considered it to be quite worthy of recovery, especially when tin commanded from £150 to £200—$750 to $1,000—per ton.
The Teuton attacked the tin-recovery problem more energetically than his colleagues in other countries and apparently achieved success, although the degree of triumph recorded in this connection has always remained a matter for considerable speculation. Be that as it may the German interests concerned were quite prepared to purchase empty British tins and to ship them across the North Sea to be treated in their home plants. From this fact it is only logical to assume that they had found practical ways and means to consummate the desired end, otherwise they would scarcely have gone to the lengths of organizing a complete collecting system in these islands, and of incurring the freightage charges, although the waste was carried at a low figure. With the outbreak of war, and the rise in the price of tin to approximately £300 ($1,500) a ton, we were forced to inquire into the possibilities of recovering the tin and solder from this refuse, and by energetic action were able to equal, if not to surpass, German effort, so that to-day de-tinning may be said to represent an established British industry.
The fact that Germany was compelled to depend extensively upon outside sources for supplies of raw materials prompted the theory in many quarters that, once the British blockade was firmly established, surrender must follow quickly from economic pressure. But the enemy displayed his ability to hold out for a far longer period than we had anticipated. Why? Simply because the moment he saw himself isolated from his outside sources of supply he inaugurated a more rigid system for the compulsory collection, segregation and utilization of his domestic waste. We know to-day how sternly these orders were enforced, and how completely the country was covered by official organizations established to this end.
To ensure that nothing of industrial value should be lost a collecting centre was established in every village and hamlet, the local chief magistrate being vested with wide powers for the conduct of the work placed in his charge. It was his duty to see that everything and anything capable of further exploitation was retrieved. The inhabitants were notified by public placard that they must bring and surrender their accumulations of refuse to the collecting centre at specific intervals, according to the available machinery and the population of the village. The head of every family or household was held personally responsible for the preservation of anything capable of further use and residue incurred within his home. Any dereliction in this respect, or infraction of the official commands, was subject to punishment according to the nature of the offence.
The materials which were in greatest demand were duly set forth. They included such junk as old metal of every description, from useless cooking utensils to fragments of wire, worn-out tools, abandoned implements and nails recovered from packing cases: textile odds and ends no matter how old and threadbare from the heterogeneous contents of the rag-bag to discarded suits, dresses, hosiery, frills, ribbon, and hats: and kitchen waste in infinite variety. The metal was turned over to the munition plants, the textile waste to the woollen, paper, and other mills, while the organic waste was distributed throughout the countryside for feeding stock after the fats and greases had been extracted.
In the towns and cities similar organizations were created, only in these instances the regulations were somewhat more stringent. All and every kind of kitchen waste had to be surrendered daily. In the leading cities it was incumbent upon every householder to have his accumulation of refuse from the previous day ready for the arrival of the official collecting cart. As this passed through the street in which he resided he had to carry and discharge his consignment of refuse into the vehicle. In some instances, as in Berlin, this task involved early rising because the collecting duty had to be completed before 7 a.m.
In the towns and cities the waste was most rigorously controlled. It was criminal for the housewife or maid to permit the grease clinging to the plates and dishes from the table to escape down the sink. This fat had to be emptied into a special pail, and with the minimum of water. Terse instructions as to how this could be done to the satisfaction of the authorities were issued. It would seem as if the salvage of grease were carried to an absurdly fine degree, but in view of the prevailing circumstances the authorities were justified in compelling the recovery of such an apparently insignificant trifle as a dab or two of grease upon a dinner-plate, since it was found that the daily yield of fat from the average town was about 8,000 pounds. Truly the enemy may be said to have fully realized the truth that “many a mickle makes a muckle.”
But the inhabitants, though forced to gather all their fat with such scrupulous care and to surrender it to the authorities, were enabled to receive a certain proportion back again—by paying for it—in the form of soap. The fat was secured in order to extract its glycerine content for the production of explosives, a certain quantity being set on one side to be turned into a lubricating grease to keep the oil-starved mammoth machine plants of the country going. The residue remaining after the extraction of the glycerine was turned into soap.
Skins, rags, bones, feathers, hair, rubber-scrap and other articles too numerous to specify were collected by this machinery. All waste arising in the slaughter of animals for food was carefully gathered. Special factories were reserved for treating the carcases of animals which had succumbed from old age, accident, disease and other causes. A farmer was not even permitted to bury the corpse of a dog. The authorities alone were vested with the power to handle deceased animals. These were thrown into suitably designed vessels, sufficiently large in some instances to receive a horse intact, which were then hermetically sealed to prevent the escape of noisome gases. Cooking was pursued to secure the fats and other products arising from the destructive distillation of the dead animal. The gases which were thrown off during the process were carefully collected, condensed to shed any foreign particles which happened to be in suspension, and then fed to the furnaces to assist in raising the heat required for cooking. By the time the distillation process had been completed only a minute quantity of fibrous residue remained together with the solid particles of bones. This mass was ground up and converted into chemical manure.
The shortage of oil was most keenly felt because this affected every range of the industrial and domestic life. Perhaps we do not generally realize the fact that all machinery would be condemned to immobility were lubricating oil supplies to be cut off. But it was not only imperative to keep the war material factories, trains, trams, motor vehicles, electric generating stations and a host of other plants in operation. Fats were in demand for a more vital issue—the table. To meet the shortage of butter, vegetable or nut-oil and animal margarine, fats and greases were in urgent request.
To mitigate the deficiency in this direction as far as possible a further rigorous enactment was put into force. It was rendered a penal offence to throw away the kernels of plums, peaches, apricots, prunes, cherries and other stone fruits or even the pips of apples and pears. One and all had to be carefully husbanded and surrendered to the authorities at special collecting stations, which, for the most part, were established in schools and municipal buildings. Juvenile effort and enthusiasm were fired. The school children were urged to maintain an alert eye for such raw material and were also encouraged to gather acorns, horse-chestnuts, and beech-nuts. The yield of such residues must have been enormous in the aggregate. One city alone reported the production of over 300,000 pounds of oil during a single year from the various nuts collected within its jurisdiction.
In the exploitation of gaseous products the Germans have undoubtedly displayed remarkable initiative. They certainly pioneered the use of the gases arising from the manufacture of pig-iron. It was the practice to allow the gases from the blast-furnaces to escape into the atmosphere. Seeing that approximately 150,000 cubic feet of gas arise from the production of a ton of pig-iron, and bearing in mind the output of the ironworks, it will be seen that the wastage in this direction must have represented a formidable item during the twenty-four hours.
These waste gases were chemically investigated, and it was discovered that approximately one-fifth of the total volume thrown off consisted of carbon monoxide gas which has a very high heating value. Thereupon the Germans set to work to recover this gas, to clean it and to convert it into a fuel for driving suitably designed gas engines. Years of labour and study were devoted to the problem, which was discovered to be exceedingly abstruse. But the obstacles were overcome and the blast-furnace gas engine made its appearance. The perfection of this means of utilizing a waste product has revolutionized a certain phase of industry throughout the world. One of the first firms to adopt the new idea was the Krupp establishment, where the gas collected from eight blast-furnaces which hitherto had been allowed to escape into and mingle with the atmosphere was harnessed to drive fifteen big engines. The perfection of this achievement in waste utilization speedily became reflected throughout the country and was subsequently introduced into this country where vast strides in connection with its use have been made.
Much has been related concerning the development of the airship in Germany, but this has been due in no small measure to the fact that it afforded a profitable outlet for the utilization of a waste product—one absolutely vital to the airship. I refer to hydrogen. This gas is produced in enormous quantities at many German works, and, for a considerable period, had to be ignored because no industrial use for it was apparent. A certain quantity was absorbed in the synthetic production of precious stones—topaz, rubies, and sapphires—but this consumption was trifling. Its fellow, oxygen, remained a drug on the market for many years until the coming of the oxy-acetylene and oxy-hydrogen method of welding and cutting metals came into popular favour. Then the demand for oxygen expanded so rapidly as to compel the laying down of plants for the production of oxygen from water by electrolysis. But the increased output of oxygen released still larger quantities of hydrogen for which practically no market obtained.
Consequently the endeavours of Zeppelin and his contemporaries received every encouragement. With the conquest of the air by the dirigible all anxiety concerning the profitable use of hydrogen disappeared. At one large factory, producing this gas in huge volumes, a special plant capable of filling the largest Zeppelin craft was laid down. The low figure at which hydrogen was obtainable was responsible in no small measure for the popularity of ballooning in Germany in days previous to the coming of the airship. The use of coal-gas for this purpose was discouraged: it was far more valuable for fuel applications, whereas the hydrogen was not only a superior lifting agent but deserved employment because it offered a remunerative outlet for a waste, and would assist in the expansion of other industries depending upon supplies of cheap oxygen.
To encourage the aeronautical use of hydrogen the firm in question embarked upon another branch of trading. It assumed the manufacture of cylinders or steel bottles for the storage of the gas under pressure—up to 200 atmospheres. Batteries of these bottles were maintained in a charged condition ready for instant dispatch to any part of the country in reply to a telegraphic or telephonic order. The airship pioneers in Germany were never in a quandary concerning the acquisition of the indispensable gas, nor were they faced with the obligation to lay down their own plants for its supply to meet their individual needs. Hydrogen was obtainable in any desired quantity at the end of a wire, and could be purchased as readily as a truck-load of coal from a colliery, while it was also available at an attractive price.
To deal fully with the German conquest of waste would prove wearisome. Enterprise and initiative are apparent in every direction from the use of recovered solder for the production of toy soldiers to the wholesale stripping of motor-cars and cheap clocks for their integral parts. Little wonder therefore that the Germans built up a wealthy national fabric. But probably the most striking evidence of the truth of the assertion that waste creates wealth is extended by the coal dye-stuffs industry. Sixty years ago the tar arising from the distillation of coal was as anathema to the engineers concerned, as I have previously related. Its disposal offered a pretty problem. It was difficult to burn, could not be turned into streams or the drains, and could not be allowed to dissipate itself into the ground. Any one who was prepared to fetch it could take it away with the engineer’s most profound blessings. It was waste in its most compelling form.
Then came Perkin with his discovery of mauve from the much-maligned tar. Immediately the former anathema of the gas-works became invested with a new and indefinable significance. But so far as Britain was concerned little progress was to be recorded. Perkin struggled valiantly to establish a new industry in this country, only to suffer discouragement and ham-stringing obstruction for his ingenuity and enterprise. The Germans appropriated the discovery and prosecuted researches and experiments so vigorously and whole-heartedly as to build up one of the biggest monopolies known to industrial effort.
It was not until the declaration of war that the world recognized the extent of the tribute it had been prepared to pay annually to the Teuton in this one field of trading. The sudden interruption of supplies of colouring agents derived from coal-tar, and made in the huge factories fringing the Rhine, Main and Spree, threatened a whole host of trades from China to Peru. The competitive nations were forced to turn their attention to the mastery of an industry which hitherto they had virtually neglected in order to keep their industries alive, only to discover that they had much to learn. In the United States thousands suffered want and distress from unemployment just because the stocks of dyes had run out and their domestic dye-manufacturing plants were unable to rise to the occasion with sufficient promptitude. Antiseptics were difficult to procure, especially those which had achieved such a wide measure of popular favour during recent years, because they were of German origin and were no longer forthcoming. Amateur photographers were compelled to pack away their cameras and to forgo the pursuance of their hobby until such time as the essential chemicals once more became procurable and cheaper, while doctors were forced to polish up long-forgotten or rusty knowledge concerning the herbaceous drugs which had been displaced by those derived from coal-tar.
A few figures will serve to drive home the stranglehold which the Germans had secured upon the trade of the world from the scientific exploitation of a waste product. For 5,000 years India supplied the world with indigo which was of vegetable origin. Apparently it held an unassailable commercial position and was held in particularly high esteem by Japan and China. Bauer, the German chemist, resolved to solve the indigo riddle and at once set out to make it from coal-tar. It proved a difficult quest occupying many years and involving thousands of experiments. But perseverance brought its due reward although success was not recorded until a round £1,000,000 had been spent. Then, before it had become established upon the market, it suffered eclipse by an improved process which had also been perfected by a German.
Within five years of its appearance upon the market synthetic indigo had driven its natural rival from India virtually into oblivion. The coal-tar competitor even established a firm foothold in the land where the vegetable article had held sway for so many thousand years. Throughout China and Japan a similar story was related. Indian indigo was no longer required. It was beaten hopelessly in price, the factor which counts in commercial circles, by the synthetic German article. Of the artificial colouring materials imported by China German indigo claimed two-thirds. A seventh of the artificial dyes imported by Japan was German indigo, while one-tenth of the dye-stuffs imported from Germany into the United States was artificial indigo.
As a result of less than fifty years’ ceaseless endeavour Germany built up an industry specializing in the manufacture of tinctorial matters derived from coal-tar, capitalized at £50,000,000—$250,000,000—and had a list of 2,000 different colours of a synthetic character which she could supply, one thousand of which were in steady daily demand. We talk about the restoration of the British coal-tar dye-stuffs industry. The Americans voice a similar story. It is glib. How far have we got? As a result of five years’ hard work in Britain we are in the position to market about 300 of the 2,000 dye-stuffs which Germany has in her trade catalogue, while America can point to a list of about 200. True, these represent many of the colours which are in heaviest request, but it will be seen that we have a very long way to go yet before we can claim to have wrested the industry from Germany, while in comparison with the £50,000,000—$250,000,000—of capital invested in the Teuton industry, the £5,000,000—$25,000,000—sunk in the British enterprise appears paltry.
To indicate how industriously and comprehensively the German houses have probed this particular waste utilization problem it may be mentioned that one of the leading houses in the industry has taken out approximately 6,500 patents to protect its activities, while it turns out a round 2,000 different products all made from coal-tar. The manufacture of the synthetic drugs—aspirin, veronal, sulphonal, phenacetin—and a host of others runs into stupendous figures. That concerning antiseptic preparations as well as the production of chemicals incidental to photography and the leather trades is equally imposing. It is estimated that the total capital sunk in German enterprises identified with the exploitation of coal-tar ranges between £140,000,000 and £160,000,000—$700,000,000 to $800,000,000. The return is exceedingly attractive, exceeding £80,000,000—$400,000,000—per annum in value.
To the British nation the magnitude and prosperity of this huge traffic in coal-tar derivatives with its enormous wealth is particularly galling. Had we displayed a more sympathetic attitude towards the discovery of Perkin and his endeavours, and had we displayed similar initiative, energy and enterprise the monopoly which became Germany’s might have been ours. But we disdained to exploit a waste. We left it to a persevering rival, and became content to pay him tribute for the utilization of a fundamental British discovery and incidentally to charge his coffers with the sinews of war. Had we kept the potential treasure-house of coal-tar to ourselves the history of the world might have been written very differently. It was the wealth accruing from the coal-tar dye-stuffs industry which enabled Germany to play a far bigger part than may be generally conceived in the development of her other industries, especially that pertaining to the chemical trade, the dye-works constituting the nursery where Germany raised her battalions of chemists.
It must not be inferred from what I have narrated that the German has a peculiar prerogative in the mastery of waste products: far from it. In certain ranges of industry we have eclipsed the Teuton and have paddled our own canoe so far as blazing the trail of industrial economy is concerned. Nor is the Teuton temperamentally better adapted to the scientific exploitation of refuse. For the most part he has been compelled to investigate these divers potential raw materials to maintain his industrial existence. Moreover, as may be readily conceived from what I have related, the issue has been forced upon him by repressive official machinery and legislative measures. Discipline in this as in many other fields has fulfilled its purpose. Certainly it has reduced every German scrap-heap and dump into a Tom Tiddler’s ground and the application of its contents into a semi-automatic operation, or at least into part of the intricate routine of industry. It is to be hoped that we have not allowed the lesson thus taught to be lost. By now we should have learned, and digested thoroughly, the truth of the precept that waste creates wealth—and commercial power.
CHAPTER III
SALVAGE FROM THE ARMY SWILL-TUB
Waste is one of the concomitant evils of a high civilization. Undoubtedly it is incidental to the primitive as well, but to a lesser degree. In this instance, however, the waste incurred does not represent a complete loss, because upon being discarded it decomposes, and thus continues the cycle of Nature.
Under conditions of advanced civilization, where a blind worship of Hygiene rules, residues of an organic character, from their very ready susceptibility to decomposition, are construed into a menace of health, although, as a matter of fact, the danger in this connection is more imaginary than real. Such refuse invariably suffers destruction by fire or by some other so-called sanitary method involving either the total or almost complete loss of valuable materials. We satisfy our consciences, however, by reflecting that the pursuance of such drastic methods satisfies the faith of hygiene, although the community suffers very pronouncedly in pocket in the long run.
It is only when pressure becomes exerted by some stupendous cataclysm, such as war, bringing in its train the peril of a bare sufficiency of foodstuffs, which in turn provokes high prices, that it becomes possible to combat the ignorance born of erroneous enlightenment in regard to matters hygienic. Under such conditions the gospel of retrenchment and reform may be preached with greater promise of accomplishing success. But the community, considered as a whole, even in time of adversity, is slow to depart from accepted practice. Precious time is lost in the application of the precept of making one pound go as far as did two pounds under more congenial conditions.
It is a matter for extreme satisfaction, if not one of agreeable surprise, to learn that, so far as Britain is concerned, it was the army which blazed the trail of economy, particularly in regard to foodstuffs. This certainly sounds amazing, because the Military Service has ever been regarded as the national sink both for finance and kind. Nevertheless, no matter how guilty of squandering it may have been during the opening months of the war, the sins of omission were subsequently rectified, to present a striking object-lesson to the civilian section of the community in regard to the scientific utilization of what the soldier was unable to consume, and its ultimate presentation to commerce in a variety of forms for the manufacture of other products of an indispensable character, or foodstuffs. By the practice of rigid economy along these lines, and without pinching or squeezing the food allowances to the soldier in the slightest degree, millions sterling a year were, and still are being, saved to the tax-payer.
When signs of coming food stringency for the civilian element of the nation became manifest, as a result of the relentless submarine campaign inaugurated by the Germans, combined with the necessity to concentrate shipping upon forwarding supplies to the fighting forces, the moment was considered to be propitious for putting into operation a scheme of retrenchment and reform. It had already been prepared, and was merely awaiting application. The only question demanding care was the introduction of the proposal in such a manner as not to impair the soldier’s physique and health.
During the opening days of the war, when the authorities were faced with the absorbing problem of enrolling men, food wastage assumed enormous proportions. Severe criticisms were levelled against the military authorities, and doubtless the strictures were more or less deserved. But extravagance under the conditions which prevailed was inevitable. By a stroke of the pen the effective strength of the British Army was increased from 180,000 to over a million men. Lord Kitchener’s call proved so irresistible as to persuade men to enlist in far more imposing masses than had ever been anticipated. The ranks were swelled by recruits from all stations of life, and their tastes were as diverse as were the positions they had previously held in the complex social scale. The transition from civilian to military life was too sudden. The men naturally clamoured for subsistence more or less in consonance with what they had been for so long accustomed in private life. If the food did not coincide with their fancies it was promptly thrown away.
The difficulty of the situation was further aggravated from the circumstance that many men who were promoted to commissioned rank were generally deficient of all knowledge pertaining to the commissariat. Consequently it is not surprising to find that the elaboration of an economic reform from the victualling chaos which prevailed proved a stupendous task.
In pre-war days the disposal of the waste from the soldier’s table constituted a relatively simple task. All residue went into what is known as the “swill-tub.” This convenient receptacle did not completely represent the military equivalent of its civilian counterpart, nor were the contents on a level with the combined solid and liquid odds and ends of an organic nature from the table of the ordinary individual. The military swill-tub was regarded rather as a handy vessel for the receipt of anything and everything which was no longer required, or which did not present any further apparent use to the soldier.
The system of disposal was likewise adapted to the prevailing circumstances. The 180,000 troops forming the standing army at home were distributed throughout the length and breadth of the United Kingdom, and thus became resolved into scattered military colonies, not one of which was of pronounced numerical strength. Consequently a centralized scheme for dealing with the waste could scarcely be introduced with any likelihood of proving profitable or successful in working. Local circumstances governed the issue very materially. The disposal of the garbage was vested in the local commanding officer, while the proceeds from the sale of the swill to farmers and others went into the regimental funds.
Notwithstanding this ostensibly haphazard arrangement it must not be supposed that the farmer was able to secure the spoil from the local garrison for a ridiculous figure. The erstwhile army officer has often been assailed for his apparent lack of business acumen, but, in so far as the disposal of this swill was concerned, he often proved a hard bargainer as many farmers and swill-buyers will readily concede. The higher the figure the officer was able to realize over the transaction the more enhanced was the sum with which he could swell the regimental coffers. It was only in those instances where disposal was attended with difficulty, or where accumulation of the garbage would have constituted a distinct menace to the health of the troops, that low prices obtained.
This method had to hold sway during the initial rush to the colours. But the moment the opportunity opened for an attack upon this problem as a whole it was accepted. A new inspection department was created by the Quarter-Master-General which became known as the Quarter-Master-General’s Services, accompanied by the appointment of a chief inspector who was charged with the control of the whole question of messing and the profitable exploitation of the residues accruing from the feeding of the troops. This department appointed competent inspectors to conduct the work in hand to a successful issue, while the catering issue became centralized under an Inspector of Army Catering.
The combined scheme of centralization and decentralization brought the Chief Inspector into intimate touch with the problem in all its varied phases, and the messing of the army as a whole was now placed upon a solid foundation. The inspectors attached to the Home Commands distributed throughout the United Kingdom drew up exhaustive reports upon the issue as it affected their respective centres. From the subsequent digestion of these reports it was found possible to adjust the supply of food to the soldier’s actual requirements and to effect the first reduction in his rations.
The original issue comprised 1 lb. of bread and ³⁄₄ lb. of meat per man per day, because, in accordance with the long-established peace-time procedure of the army, which was continued after the outbreak of war, the national upkeep of the fighting man involved the supply of only these two staples. Whatever else the soldier fancied he had to purchase for himself, in which direction he was assisted by his messing allowance of 7¹⁄₂d. (15 cents) per day. When the matter was investigated it was learned that this issue was in excess of the average man’s actual needs. Nevertheless the full ration of meat was generally cooked, the soldier consuming as much as he desired, while what he left over was relegated to the swill-tub. It was the same with the bread, the residue likewise being discarded to this convenient receptacle. Consequently the first move was to adapt the rations to the soldier’s consuming powers.
It was also discovered that considerable waste arose from the indifferent manner in which the meat was prepared and cooked. The tastes of the men, especially of the recruits to the New Armies, varied very widely according to the social scales from which they had been drawn. But while the men from the higher ranks of life were not fastidious they did at least demand the skilful and appetizing presentation of their food. If the meat were indifferently cooked it was simply left untouched to find its way to the swill-tub.
Accordingly, it was decided to improve the military cuisine forthwith. The kitchen service was severely overhauled, only the most competent and expert cooks being retained in this service. In pre-war days the army maintained only one Cookery School—at Aldershot—from which all military cooks graduated. But as the armies grew in millions this solitary university proved hopelessly inadequate. Accordingly, cookery schools were established in each command while a totally new curriculum was introduced.
The cookery school became the “key” to the whole situation. It not only became the nursery where the autocrats of the field-kitchen were raised, but it was the hive in which many little wrinkles were learned, where new ideas were submitted to initial test and practice, to be adopted throughout the armies if they established their value, and where economies were subjected to exacting trial for widespread application upon issuing unscathed from the ordeals to which they were imposed. The improvement in the personnel, training, and methods of the men in charge of the field hotels proved successful in another direction. Higher efficiency and contentment among the troops were recorded, for the simple reason that a satisfied, well-fed soldier provides the finest fighting material.
With improvements in cookery the contents of the swill-tub commenced to dwindle in volume. Less food was wasted while the residue from the table similarly decreased. As this development was pursued it was ultimately found possible to reduce the rations of bread and meat still further without provoking the slightest discontent. A third reduction in the rations took place in 1917 to the extent of an additional two ounces of bread, except in the case of soldiers under nineteen years of age, and a quarter of an ounce of salt per man per day. The cumulative results of these economies represented a direct saving annual of £4,000,000—$20,000,000—in cash to the nation in respect of the soldiers’ rations. In other words, the huge armies of 1918 consumed less food to the value of four millions sterling than was the case two years previously, and this satisfactory end was achieved without stinting a man. Such a remarkable result was primarily due to the improved method of preparing and serving the food. During the war more than 50,000 men were passed through the cookery schools attached to the Home Commands. The effect of such imposing economies proved of distinct benefit to the community, because the reduced supplies to the Army released so much more bread and meat to the non-combatant element of the country.
The serving of meals, at least so far as the Home units were concerned, was also completely transformed. Instead of the men being compelled to indulge in a wild scramble with their messing-tins for their meat supplies, the latter was cut up in the cook-house and assigned to dishes for the table. Each man thus became assured of his allotted ration. But in the event of the allocation exceeding what the soldier desired, as for instance when he was a trifle off his feed, instead of being compelled to take his ration willy-nilly, eating as much as he fancied and leaving the balance on his plate to swell the swill-tub, he was instructed not to help himself to more than he felt he could attack. If, after settling down to his meal, he found his appetite to return unexpectedly, he was free, after the manner of Oliver Twist, to ask for more, with this difference—he was sure to receive it.
Although under this régime the cooks were given less raw material with which to carry out their appointed tasks, yet it was found possible to induce the lesser quantity to go farther than the larger allotment had ever gone before. Other economies resulting from the observance of more scientific culinary methods were also recorded. The introduction of women into the kitchen was tried. This experiment, doubtless owing to the fact that this represented a woman’s true sphere and from her inherent tendency to be careful, efficient, and thorough in every detail concerning the preparation of meals, proved a conspicuous success.
Now, no matter how persistently and effectively the lessons of economy may be preached in the kitchen and at the table as much in the home as in the army, and notwithstanding the infinitesimal degree to which the proportion of spoiled food may be reduced by the introduction of superior methods and skill, a certain amount of waste is unavoidable. It cannot be overcome in its entirety. Tastes differ so widely that odds and ends are certain to be left untouched upon the plate, while a certain accumulation of gristle, bone, fat and other inedible portions must be expected.
The residue upon the individual plate may be so insignificant as to render a second thought concerning its probable value superfluous. But, multiply that individual plate and its contribution of waste by the tens of thousands of plates in use at one time, as in the army, and it will be realized that, in the aggregate, the fragments assume a very imposing volume. Furthermore, in the kitchen where the joints are cut up, the accumulation of pieces is striking. Lastly, in washing up the plates, dishes and other utensils what an avenue is offered for the escape of immense quantities of fat through the sink gully? I have already indicated in a previous chapter what wealth may be lost in this manner, and how it only needs adequate reclamation methods to enable such loss to be avoided.
Accordingly, contemporaneously with the reorganization of the catering and cooking issues, the exploitation of the now appreciably attenuated swill-tub contents was investigated. This residue was still being sold to the farmers, but they were not regarding their purchases with unalloyed delight. Contrary to general opinion, perhaps, raw swill does not constitute an ideal foodstuff for porkers. As a rule it is too rich in fat and so tends to exercise a debilitating and impoverishing effect upon the animals, being a frequent cause of scour.
About this time a grave problem asserted itself in another field of military activity. The Ministry of Munitions had decided to speed-up the output of explosives, but such acceleration was threatened by a shortage of the indispensable constituent, glycerine. It was not a question of the facilities for the production of this essential being insufficient to cope with the demand because ample plant was available. The difficulty was the dearth of animal fat which yields the basic material in question. Soap manufacturers were also being hard-pressed for similar fats to conduct their operations. As a result of the depressing outlook the price of glycerine commenced to advance upon the market at a disconcerting rate.
The military authorities, cognizant of the huge quantities of animal fat reclaimable from the swill-tubs throughout the service, recognized the opportunity to ease the crisis to an appreciable degree. The segregation, collection, and surrender of this potential raw material to the industry concerned were merely matters of organization. It was promptly realized that if the issue were left for adjustment to the interests generally identified with such enterprises, and in which the itinerant rag-and-bone merchant and marine store dealer figure prominently, confusion would ensue, conducing to further disturbance of prices.
To achieve the desired efficiency the authorities invited the trade, comprising the soap-makers and the bone degreasers, to discuss the question. The authorities succinctly narrated what they could do towards the solution of the problem. The trade was agreeably surprised by the facts and figures which were set before them, and was quick to appreciate that here indeed was a new and unexpectedly rich mine of raw material to be advantageously tapped. The Ministry of Munitions, also represented at the conference, announced its preparedness to extend a willing hand. It would take over all the glycerine derived from fats procured from military sources at a fixed price. This was mutually settled at £59 10s.—$297.50—per ton, and it was agreed that the figure should remain relatively firm irrespective of market fluctuations. It must be conceded that the Ministry drove an astute bargain, because at the time glycerine was commanding £300—$1,500—per ton upon the open market, which sum the country would have been compelled to pay had the military sources of supply not been available.
The trade acquiesced and formed a committee including officers nominated by the War Office to complete all negotiations and transactions. Private buyers were nominated to cover the whole country and a flat rate for the purchase of all fats from military sources was decided. By this simple arrangement every unit throughout these islands, no matter how remote its situation, was assured of a definite market for its fats and bones. Moreover, these units were given strict instructions to sell their produce only to the trade representative at the price decided, notwithstanding that other would-be buyers might proffer a higher quotation.
So far as the army was concerned the remunerative market for all waste in the form of fats and bones being established, it now became necessary to whip up the contributions of these residues to the uttermost ounce. A whirl-wind campaign was conducted throughout the whole of the Home Commands to demonstrate how this end might be consummated. Officers of the department concerned visited the various camps. It was calmly but firmly impressed upon the local responsible officers that they must resort to every artifice to trap fats and bones during their devious journeys, so that nothing might escape. There were heart-to-heart chats with the cooks, who, their imagination fired and enthusiasm kindled, promised to leave no stone unturned to satisfy the authorities in this direction.
Only one danger was to be apprehended as a result of this campaign of enlightenment. In their zest to save the fat the autocrats of the kitchens and others might unconsciously deprive the soldier of his proportion of this food so essential to the maintenance of a high standard of health. Accordingly, while one and all were urged to keep a tight grip upon the waste, they were instructed to allow the fighting man to eat just as much fat as he fancied: indeed his consumption of the highly nutritive dripping was to be specifically encouraged because, in this manner, it would become possible to release increased quantities of butter and margarine to the civil population. Holding the scales evenly between the soldier and the cook-house on the one hand, and between the troops and the civilians on the other, proved to be one of the most intricate and delicate problems associated with this waste-saving campaign.
To secure the fullest co-operation of the cooks the Army Council agreed to the extension of a specially attractive inducement. An extra daily financial allowance was sanctioned on the basis of the more fat the cooks saved and turned over to the making of munitions the better they would be off in pocket. This allocation, however, was not to become a charge upon the public purse. It was insisted that it should be defrayed from the sum realized by a unit in the disposal of its waste fats and bones, while the balance was to be devoted wholly to the provision of kitchen utensils and other amenities. The units alone were to benefit from the practise of economy and obviation of all waste.
The consummation of this arrangement led to one or two amusing sequels which, it is to be feared, had scarcely been anticipated. Naturally every camp became uncannily keen to derive the utmost profit from this phase of permissible trading, and a certain rivalry developed between the various units to score top marks.
There was one camp, composed of men drawn from units scattered all over the country, undergoing musketry training. The men became affected with the “save your bones” craze to an acute degree. As a result of his periodical investigation the commanding officer suddenly discovered that he was getting all the fat he wanted. But the bones! That was a different story: the yield was by no means what it should have been. The startling discrepancy prompted inquiry, and the officer found that the soldiers were more fully alive to the real significance of the swill-tub than he had imagined. But they were more loyal to their own units than to the musketry camp to which their attachment was only temporary. They were waging a quiet campaign among themselves, collecting all the bones upon which they could place their hands, and determined that their colleagues should derive all the benefits accruing from the sale of this waste were posting their bone-hauls back to their own units!
Another instance of similar zeal was even more humorous. A certain Imperial unit was camped next door to some troops from Overseas. The “save-your-fat-and-bones” scheme was carefully explained to the latter, but having come from a land where meat was plentiful they failed to see the object of being so vigilant and miserly in regard to the residue in question. The authorities, realizing the situation, refrained from further pursuit of their proposal, being content to allow what they had already expressed to sink into the minds of the soldiers, confident that, upon reflection, the Overseas unit would appreciate the wisdom of the official recommendation.
The expected happened. The men from Yonder Britain in the end did conclude that there was something in this waste-saving stunt, and that they might profit from following the general practice. They commenced to indulge in bone-collecting and hoarding with rare gusto. No school-boy ever collected postage-stamps more keenly than did those fighting men from Farther Britain save bones and fat.
This outburst of zealous economy delighted the authorities. They saw the yields from the camp of the Overseas fighting men rising by leaps and bounds. But there was a decrease in the bone-yield from the Home unit next door! The supply officer, feeling that something must be amiss, and that possibly the Overseas troops were receiving an inordinate quantity of bone in the issue to stimulate collecting, dived into the mystery. It did not prove to be a very baffling quest. The Overseas unit was able to show a high yield of bones because it was indulging in surreptitious nocturnal raids, at opportune moments, upon the bone-stocks of its neighbours!
As the scheme was brought into wider and wider application it was found that the exploitation of the actual swill-tub might be conducted to still greater advantage. Hitherto the task had been the redemption of the bones and waste fat before it reached the actual garbage barrel. But to turn the actual contents of the swill-tub properly so-called to economic account it was seen that certain plant would have to be installed, although investigation revealed that such appliances need neither be elaborate nor expensive. The suggestion was thoroughly ventilated, and as a result it was decided to approach the authorities with a proposal which was decidedly novel and which was certainly unprecedented.
Convincing facts and figures were obtained to indicate what the probable yield from this latest endeavour to turn military waste to profitable account would be. These estimates took into consideration the expenditure incurred by the acquisition and operation of the plant adopted. The proposed outlay was not heavy, but it was felt by those who had elaborated this latest scheme that to request the authorities to incorporate it as part and parcel of existing military routine would defeat the primary principle underlying the idea. It was felt that, if the enterprise could be rendered profitable under military conditions, it might lead to its practical application by the civil community. The impression obtained that the few thousand pounds capital expenditure which would have to be incurred, together with the revenue, would be lost among the maze of millions sterling incidental to current military expenditure, even if it did not suffer actual inclusion, from its comparative triviality, among “sundry expenses.” In this event all the lessons to be derived therefrom would be lost. On the other hand if the enterprise could be kept separate and could be conducted, as desired, along accepted commercial lines, success would impress the civilian, and might assist in persuading the municipal and other authorities to do likewise with the similar raw materials available in plenty from domestic sources of supply.
Thereupon it was suggested that the War Office should sanction the formation of a limited liability company to handle this latest exploitation of the actual swill along orthodox business lines. To allay any suspicions of private interests profiteering at the expense of the tax-payer it was recommended that the whole of the capital should be subscribed, and held, by the authorities, who should also be invested with the power to appoint the directors, and who should hold office at the pleasure of the War Office.
The novelty of the proposal was conceded, but the promoters were so sanguine of achieving success that the requisite sanction was extended. Thereupon a company was duly registered at Somerset House in due compliance with the law, with its articles of association complete in every respect, under the title “Army Waste Products, Limited,” with a nominal capital of 7s. ($1.75)! That company proved an overwhelming successful venture from the country’s point of view. Its results conclusively demonstrated the fact that there are literally millions in waste.
Small plants were established in military camps in several parts of the country, and subsequently the system was extended to the army in France, while the American Expeditionary Force, impressed with its achievements, embraced the scheme and the plants employed. Operations were not confined to the treatment of the despised contents of the swill-tub, but also to the recovery of waste gravy and fats from the plates, the reclamation of breadcrumbs from the table, sweepings from the bakery and stores, and of odd crusts which heretofore had found no application other than as food for the wild birds, as well as the treatment of bones before they were handed over to the degreasers.
A policy of rigid commercialism was introduced and sedulously followed. The contents of the swill-tubs, as well as all other waste described above, were purchased, the prevailing prices being paid so that other commercial concerns were denied the opportunity of preferring the charge of unfair trading. Items of rental, wages, as well as maintenance, depreciation and capitalization charges were also taken fully into account, while the resultant products were also sold at market prices, which, as subsequent results revealed, left an ample margin of profit.
The plant employed, as well as the procedure followed in reclaiming and working the wastes up into raw material for industrial uses, possesses many interesting features, and are fully described in the next chapter.
CHAPTER IV
THE RECLAMATION OF MILITARY ORGANIC WASTE
In deciding the type of plant suited to the recovery of military organic waste regard was specially devoted to two governing principles. The one was the standardization of plant, so far as was practicable, to facilitate duplication and installation of the machinery in the various camps. The second was the selection of such plant as could be installed readily and cheaply in an improvised building, and which, if the conditions warranted, would enable a standard type of cheap and simple building to be adopted.
So far as the initial plants were concerned dependence had to be placed upon existing structures, otherwise delay in putting the scheme into practical application would have been inevitable, owing to the difficulty attending the acquisition of constructional material. But the installation of the plants in extemporized buildings sufficed to establish the applicability of the idea to any type of building of adequate dimensions, and in such a manner as to impose only the minimum of structural alterations to secure the requisite efficiency. This adaptability is an outstanding feature, because it indicates how the recovery of organic waste may be attacked along the most economical yet comprehensive lines, and with the minimum of capital expenditure and its concomitant amortization charges.
Two types of plant were adopted, both being standardized. One coincided with what might be described as the central or permanent waste-recovery station, while the second presented all the necessary elements of portability with the added advantages of inexpensive dismantling, removal, and expeditious reassembling at another point according to exigencies. But the processes are common to both types.
In the case of the permanent mill which I visited structural alterations had been reduced to the absolute minimum, the most conspicuous outlay being the provision of a simple form of elevator to lift the swill to a level above the plant to permit of gravity feed. The total cost of this station, including the installation of the necessary machinery, which included a steam-boiler, bone-crusher, small engine, melter, centrifugal or turbine fat extractor, and settling tanks, with one or two further accessories, was only £2,500—$12,500.
The swill is brought to the mill by motor-lorry. Operations are commenced at an early hour, because health considerations demand that waste of this character shall be handled with all possible promptitude in a big camp. The clearance is carried out daily and is complete, including all garbage, bones and other profit-yielding organic residue from the cook-house. Segregation is conducted as far as practicable at the source, special sanitary vessels for distinctive residues being provided. The mill continues working throughout the day until the whole of the morning’s collection has been duly treated. No accumulation or carrying-over of some of one day’s swill to the next day is permitted. Swill is susceptible to speedy fermentation, especially during hot and sultry weather, and so would become noisome within a very short period, as well as developing into an ideal breeding-ground for flies and other pests.
The contents of the collecting lorries are distinctly heterogeneous, the vehicles being laden with swill, bones, empty tins, jam and pickle jars, bottles—in short, anything possessing an element of salvage value. In segregating the waste at the cook-house special stress is laid upon the necessity to keep all green vegetable matter, such as outer leaves, stumps and other inedible trimmings, distinct from the general swill for the reason explained later.
The swill is transferred by the elevator to the upper level, where it is dumped into a capacious sink to drain. The proportion of free liquid is not pronounced, the swill being rather in the nature of a slush, whatever fat there may be present, apart from the solid pieces, being either congealed in flakes and globules, either free or clinging to the more stable substance. The superfluous water having run off the residue is permitted to fall through a trap into a hopper feeding the capacious cooker or melter. Where the height of the building does not permit the provision of an elevated draining sink the swill, dumped at ground-level, is shovelled into the melter.
The melter is a cylindrical vessel or drum fitted with a steam jacket, the steam circulating at a pressure of about 80 lb. per square inch through the annular space between the inner and outer jackets. The capacity of the vessel is approximately 1,700 pounds, and the contents are kept agitated during the process by paddles mounted upon a revolving shaft forming the longitudinal axis of the drum.
The cooking process drives off all remaining moisture in the form of steam, and, at the same time, liberates whatever fat may be present by melting and rendering it fluid. It gravitates to the bottom of the cylinder to make its escape through a suitable vent and pipe into the settling tank. The last-named is also steam-heated by a coiled pipe system which not only sterilizes but clarifies the reclaimed fat, which is then permitted to cool and to solidify.
The swill remains in the drum for 70 to 90 minutes. By the end of this period the contents have been practically cooked, while all free fat has effected its escape. It will be observed that the steam does not come into contact with the contents, but is confined to circulation between the jackets. When withdrawn from the melter the swill resembles a stiff slush. This is transferred to a canvas bag to be dropped into a wire cage forming the inner vessel of the second machine, which is a vertical turbine extractor. The vessel when charged is closed by clamping down the lid.
Steam is turned on and the second stage of the fat reclamation process proceeds. Beneath the wire cage a series of steam jets are radially disposed in such a manner as to allow the steam to impinge upon the cage at an angle. The cage itself is supported freely upon a suitable vertical shaft and so, under the impetus imparted by the steam issuing from the jets, naturally revolves. By varying the volume and pressure of the steam the revolving speed of the cage may be varied within wide limits. Consequently it is possible to give the cage a very high rotary velocity.
The steam, after performing its mission towards rotating the cage, is induced to ascend in such a manner as to permeate the contents of the canvas bag imprisoned within the wire cage. All fatty matter still associated with the organic material, owing to the high temperature of the steam, becomes still more fluid. Under the centrifugal action set up by the high rotary speed of the cage this fat becomes separated from the solids to be expressed through the pores of the canvas container and also the perforations of the outer cage, and to be flung against the inner wall of the extractor. The extreme fluidity of the very hot grease facilitates and expedites this separation, the expelled fat finally dropping to the bottom of the vessel to make its escape through suitable drain holes to pass into the settling tanks previously mentioned.
Under the whirling action of the turbine quite 91 per cent. of the fatty content of the mash is extracted and recovered. The treatment in the turbine extractor is continued until the flow of grease to the settling tanks is observed to cease, when steam is shut off and the extractor is emptied. The mash, somewhat resembling peat in consistency and of a rich chocolate colour, cooked through and through, is spread upon the floor to cool. Unless one has followed the cycle of operations one would never associate this odourless, clean, dry and sterilized product with the repulsive looking slush from the swill-tubs which had entered the mill barely two hours previously.
This residue constitutes an ideal pig-food. It is rich in the essentials for building up the frame and flesh of the porker, and as may be supposed finds a ready sale. It appeals to the farmer because it is clean to handle, is easier to transport than the conventional swill, because it can be bagged, while it possesses excellent keeping qualities. In effect it is a concentrated food, and accordingly can be broken down by blending with ordinary swill to increase the calories of the latter as they affect the pig, or it may be used instead of pig-meal, for which it is an excellent substitute.
Finally, it meets with the farmer’s favour because its fat content, being only about 9 per cent., coincides more closely with the animal’s dietetic requirements. It is not surprising, in these circumstances, that the farmer should be eager to procure as much of this sterilized food as he can obtain at a fair price. Certainly the authorities experience no difficulty in regard to its disposal at a remunerative figure.
The bones, upon reaching the mill, are dumped apart. They represent waste from the cook-house stripped as cleanly of meat and fat as a sharp knife in dexterous practised hands will allow. Their gravy-yielding and other nutritious constituents have been extracted from prolonged sojourn in the stock-pots. When they reach the swill-mill they appear to be as capable of rendering any further contribution to the general scheme as those bones which have passed through the hands of a frugal housewife. They have reached the stage when such refuse is either thrown into the kitchen fire, dust-bin, or handed over to the peripatetic rag-and-bone monger.
Yet they still possess distinct fat value, but it can only be wrung out by drastic effort. The bones are first passed through a crusher to be reduced to small size. At times the bone-dump from the cook-house will be found to be swollen by the dismantled framework of what was once a horse or some other animal, and which is to be passed through the fat reclamation factory. The crushed bones are submitted to the same process as the swill, being passed through the melter and extractor successively. The combined action of cooking and whizzing brings about a far more impressive release of fat than may possibly be imagined. Furthermore, cooking and whirling effectively release all slender strings and shreds of fat which may have escaped the butcher’s sharp knife, while clinging tatters of meat and sinew are also thoroughly cooked. Upon withdrawal from the extractor the bones are thrown over a riddle, this action being sufficient to detach all shreds of fibrous matter which fall through the meshes of the sieve.
The bones are now ready for dispatch to the degreasers. The loose fibrous residue resulting from riddling is collected for subsequent use in the preparation of poultry foods. Seeing that the treatment of the bones in this mill is pursued for the express purpose of reclaiming only the loose and easily secured fat and grease there is no conflict with industry. The degreasers are concerned rather with the recovery of fat resistant to ordinary salvage methods, as well as glue, size, and many other commodities involving the submission of the bone waste to many special processes, the ultimate residue being ground up to form a fertilizer.
The fat, after cooking, clarification, and solidification, presents an attractive, odourless, sterilized mass. This is dispatched to the trade for resolution into tallow, glycerine, and the requisite basic material for the production of soap.
I mentioned that, in the segregation of the wastes at the cook-house, special emphasis is laid upon the necessity to prevent the combination of all green vegetable refuse with the swill. This is essential, because in the subsequent cooking operation the dye from the green waste is extracted as every housewife knows, and, mingling with the fat, will steep the latter a pronounced greenish hue. This detracts very pronouncedly from the value of the fat because the dye, being of vegetable origin, cannot possibly be eliminated in the subsequent manufacturing operations through which the fat is passed. On the other hand, the deep yellow tinge which is likely to result from the presence of curry waste in the swill is not deleterious because it can be readily discharged.
For some time the disposal of the green vegetable waste presented a thorny problem. Farmers were not prepared to purchase it with the ordinary cooked pig-food, for the simple reason that they already possessed a surfeit of this refuse in their fields. Cremation appeared to be the only possible solution of the difficulty, the accumulations being somewhat formidable, but as a result of experiment the difficulty was very neatly and profitably overcome. This garbage, together with other waste of a comparative character, is subjected to a desiccating process to yield a product which is adapted to association with other approved by-products, without depreciating the pecuniary or other value of the whole, for poultry feeding.
Both plant and processes are extremely simple. Nor is a pretentious staff required. Six men suffice to attend to an installation capable of dealing with the swill contributed daily by a unit of 15,000 men. One hand tends the engine and boiler for the supply of steam and power; two men are responsible for the conduct of the melter; while two additional men wait upon the turbine extractor. The sixth man is retained to operate the bone crusher. This staff need only be increased, as the volume of work rises from any accretion to the camp, to the extent of one man for every additional 5,000 soldiers.
The wastage of bread, for the most part inadvertently, is far heavier than may be supposed. Possibly the heaviest proportion of waste arises from unconscious crumbling of the article during conversation at the table. Observation revealed that the accumulation of such crumbs and crusts was pronounced, while it was also discovered that a heavy contribution was extended by the bakery as the result of cutting up the loaves. The loss of flour incurred during the preparation of the bread and pastry was also found to be appreciable.
Thereupon it was decided to reclaim all bread waste and flour residues. The crumbs, together with the odd crusts and other small fragments, are collected, while the bakery floors and tables are regularly swept to yield grist to the salvage harvest. Moreover, despite the observance of all possible precautions to avoid waste, accidents are unavoidable. Occasionally a batch of bread is ruined in the baking. Being unfit for human consumption it is handed over to the salvage department to be worked up into readily marketable products instead of suffering destruction as was formerly the practice.
Bread and flour waste is subjected to a simple and inexpensive roasting treatment and is then roughly graded. The larger fragments and condemned loaves are reduced to a convenient size, while the finer material is reduced to a meal. The granulated residue is absorbed by the firms specializing in the manufacture of compounded proprietary poultry foods, entering into the composition thereof to approximately 20 per cent., which experience has proved to represent an excellent balance. During the war this granulated waste, sold in bulk, realized about 1¹⁄₈d. (2¹⁄₄ cents) per lb., plus an additional charge of 10 per cent. to cover administration expenses. The coarser grade of waste proved to be an excellent feed for horses—superior to oats—and consequently was somewhat in demand at 1³⁄₄d. (3¹⁄₂ cents) per lb., the availability of such feed during the period when horses were necessarily rationed owing to the shortage of the conventional feeding-stuffs being keenly appreciated. In this instance the extra charge on account of administration expenses was also made.
Other expressions of military “save-the-waste” activity cover the recovery of tins, bottles, and jars. But the difficulties concerning transport somewhat adversely affected success in this direction for a time. The preserve and pickle manufacturers intimated their readiness to accept all bottles and jars owing to the short supply of new receptacles of this character, but for some time it was found impossible to spare the requisite carrying facilities. The provision of canned and bottled comestibles does not enter into the official scheme of rations, the supply of such articles, “extras,” being conducted through the Navy and Army Canteen Board, which, as a protection, imposes a charge upon all jars and bottles sold to the canteen attached to a unit. As a result every care is observed to preserve these vessels to avoid any financial loss arising from their non-return. Consequently, consignments of empty jars and bottles are generally returned intact, such losses as are incurred being unavoidable, and, in the main are due to accidental breakage.
An effort was also made to discover a possible commercial outlet for spent tea-leaves. This beverage is particularly popular in the army, and the accumulation of this waste is enormous. At one period the Home Commands were called upon to handle over 13,500,000 pounds of this refuse a month. The thought was entertained that the extraction of the caffeine from this residue might prove a profitable venture, but the experiments were inconclusive, and so the proposal was abandoned. Then the circumstance that the tea-leaves carry a certain proportion of potash suggested another line of application—conversion into fertilizer. But here again success failed to be recorded. The profitable exploitation of spent tea-leaves still awaits conclusive resolution. But it happens to be one of those problems beset with supreme difficulties, while it is imperative that every precaution should be observed to prevent this waste finding its way into unscrupulous hands to be turned to base account to the disadvantage of the community.
I have already mentioned that, while every effort was made to recover the uttermost ounce of fat-yielding residue from the kitchens, every encouragement was extended to the troops to cultivate the consumption of the nourishing dripping. Although it would seem as if these two recommendations were in utter conflict, no such trouble as might have been anticipated has been recorded. The troops appreciated the concession, and the request for this fat has led to considerable fertility of thought and individual resource among the officers of the various units. Such initiative received commendation from headquarters because it not only contributed to the economical consumption of food in the army, but reacted to the advantage of the civil population who, unable to obtain dripping owing to the rigorous meat rationing in operation, were compelled to depend upon butter and margarine for their fat requirements. The increasing consumption of dripping by the soldiers to whom it was readily available served to permit increased quantities of the restricted supplies of other articles to be distributed among the community.
In one cook-house I witnessed an interesting method to increase the dripping yield. A big pail had been filled with little shreds of fat and meat, shaved and scraped by the cooks from the bones of the freshly-cut-up quarters of beef. This pail was placed within an outer vessel containing water, the improvised double saucepan then being placed upon the hot stove. As the water boiled the fat clinging to the shreds of fibre dissolved, while the meat-juices also became dissociated from the fibre under the influence of the heat. Boiling was continued until the whole of the fat had melted, when the vessel was removed and set upon one side to cool. The fat solidified at the top to yield a fine chunk of appetizing rich dripping, while immediately beneath was a jellied mass of gravy and disintegrated meat-fibre, forming a concentrated beef-tea. The dripping was reserved for issuance in lieu of butter and margarine, while the jelly sediment was set upon one side to improve the contents of steak-pies, puddings, and other savoury dishes.
The soldier is also a gourmet for cheese. But exigencies of war speedily elevated this comestible to the status of a luxury, even in the army. Unfortunately the average cheese does not lend itself to economic use. It is friable, the loss in crumbs being somewhat pronounced, while the rind is lost.
An officer conceived an ingenious idea to persuade the cheese to go farther, and in such a manner as to eliminate all possibility of waste. A whole cheese was taken, thoroughly washed and cleaned. It was then placed in a mill with a quantity of dripping, the proportion being 60 per cent. of the former to 40 per cent. of the latter. The two constituents were then pulped and blended together.
The resultant product was distinctly surprising. The cheddar cheese was converted, by compounding with the animal fat, into a delicious cream-like article of the consistency of butter, allowing it to be spread upon bread and biscuits. The flavour was distinctly improved; indeed, the soldiers expressed a decided preference for this blended food. Its nutritive value cannot be gainsaid, because it carries all the virtues of the cheese plus those incidental to rich animal fat.
By this simple expedient all wastage of cheese was overcome. Even the rind, generally conceded to represent the richest part of the product, was used, being thoroughly disintegrated, macerated and blended with the dripping by passage through the little mill. Not only did the officer reduce the item for the consumption of cheese by his unit to a very significant degree, but he achieved the desired end without penalizing the men to the slightest degree.
The process is so simple that it might even be emulated to profit by the thrifty housewife. The kitchen mincing machine will suffice for the purpose. It is only necessary to pulp and to blend the two constituents thoroughly together. It certainly offers a means of inducing a pound of cheese to go as far as, if not farther than, a pound and a half has ever gone before.
In so far as the arrest of the elusive fat was concerned there remained only one other possible avenue of escape demanding interruption. This was the sink where all plates, dishes, and cooking utensils in general are washed. In the first effort to secure this contribution the hot water carrying the desired material was led into a pit. Here the fat collected in the form of a scum, which was skimmed off at intervals and sent to the swill mill for further treatment. But this crude method gave way to one more in consonance with modern ideas. The fat is now caught at the gully.
One device I saw installed to achieve this end was of an extremely simple character. It comprised a wooden box, about three feet in length by one foot in width, and about two feet in depth. It was subdivided into three cells by two partitions, which, however, did not extend to the full depth of the box. The pipe from the sink entered the box at one end while the outlet to the drain was placed at the opposite end. The box was filled with cold water, which need only be renewed when the box is emptied for cleaning and flushing, since normally it is kept charged with the water coming from the sink. The hot water bearing the fat circulates through the three cells and finally, upon reaching a certain level, passes into the drainage system.
But during its passage through the box the hot water becomes so effectively chilled as to be compelled to release any fat which it may be carrying. This congeals and rises to the surface. Within a short time the top of each cell is crusted with a thick layer of solid fat which may be removed as frequently as desired. The box not only constitutes an efficient and simple, as well as inexpensive, fat-trap, but also acts as a water seal to the sink, thus preventing all nuisance or fouling of the sink pipe.
The amount of fat capable of being retrieved in this manner is certainly startling. The fat-trap which I saw fitted to one of the sinks of an army cook-house yielded several pounds of fat every day—sheer waste recovered from washing plates, pots and pans. The fat is dispatched to the swill-mill to be passed through the melter and extractor in the usual manner, thereby undergoing thorough clarification and sterilization. The recovery during the course of the year of several thousand pounds of fat which otherwise would have vanished down the drain, by the introduction of a small wooden box such as I have described, represents no mean achievement. Certainly it serves to bring home the losses which are incurred at this point in every house during the twelve months. The device might profitably be installed at every sink by every householder. The few shillings involved by its provision would be quickly recouped, because the fat always has a market. Moreover, the introduction of this device would contribute towards the efficiency of the drain, keeping it clear and free to fulfil its designed function.
That it pays to recover all fats and greases lost to consumption or permitted to escape because it is merely residue is conclusively borne out by the results recorded in connection with the military operations which I have described. During the year 1917 the fats—waste—reclaimed from the Home Commands of the British Army yielded 13,000 tons of tallow. The value of all the by-products recovered from the refuse was £700,000—$3,500,000. The cost of securing this waste for commercial exploitation, including the extra pay extended in the form of bonus to the cooks, and other allowances, was £400,000—$2,000,000—leaving a balance of £300,000—$1,500,000—which was returned to the public.
As previously mentioned, the fats were urgently needed to furnish glycerine for the manufacture of munitions. One ton of crude fat yields 10 per cent. of glycerine, so that 1,300 tons of this indispensable article were derived from this one source of supply. The fat was sold to the bone-degreasers and the soap manufacturers, who effected the recovery of the glycerine, selling the product to the Ministry of Munitions at the agreed price of £59 10s. to £63—$297.50 to $315—per ton, as compared with £300—$1,500—per ton which we should have been compelled to pay had we bought the glycerine upon the open market.
Here was a direct saving of £237 to £240 10s.—$1,185 to $1,202.50—per ton. Altogether the purchase of glycerine recovered from military organic waste represented a saving of £312,650—$1,563,250—because the nation obtained for £77,350—$386,750—what otherwise would have cost £390,000—$1,950,000. This figure is not quite complete because, inspired by the success achieved from the milling of the swill at home, the army in France established similar stations behind the lines upon the other side of the Channel. When these were brought into operation the shipment of fat and grease recovered from the organic waste of the British Expeditionary Force in France represented 5,000 tons a year, whence 500 tons of glycerine were derived. The 5,000 tons of fat won from the swill-tubs of the army in France realized £140,000—$700,000—while the total saving recorded under the heading of glycerine secured from army waste fat was augmented to £432,000—$2,160,000. During the year in question the aggregate financial economies directly secured from the exploitation of organic army waste, in conjunction with the introduction of ways and means to reduce the yield of such residue from the observance of improved culinary methods and reduced consumption of foodstuffs was approximately £5,626,000—$28,130,000. Finally, to demonstrate the value of this contribution to the aggressive resources of this country, it may be stated that the 1,800 tons of glycerine derived from the 18,000 tons of tallow recovered from the army swill-tubs, rendered it possible to turn out sufficient nitro-glycerine to serve as the propellant charges for 18,000,000 eighteen-pounder shells.
The success accomplished with the army waste fat and grease prompts the obvious inquiry as to why comparative methods cannot be adopted in civilian circles. The average household has but little conception of the value of its fat losses. It should not be an impossible task to segregate the waste from the house at the source, and to submit it to similar treatment. The majority of our civic and municipal authorities possess buildings which could readily be adapted to the installation of the necessary plant, and the capital outlay therefore need not be heavy. The disposal of the various by-products would not be attended by any difficulty. True, under war conditions abnormal prices ruled, but even to-day they are attractive and are likely to continue to remain so for an appreciable time to come.
Of course, the municipal authorities could not aspire to net such profits as are possible in the army. In the first place the wage problem must be taken into consideration. Under military conditions this does not arise. Fatigue parties are always available to collect the swill and to conduct its conversion into fat. But even if the practice were pursued at a loss it would redound to the distinct benefit of the community in general, because it would comply with one of the fundamental laws of National Economy and would conduce towards the reduction in the cost of living. But unprofitable exploitation would not result so long as the methods were conducted along commercial lines. Ineptitude and wastage in administration and operation alone could be responsible for any such eventuality in this connection. Happily we are becoming wiser in our knowledge: domestic organic waste is now being exploited on broader lines, as I relate in subsequent chapters.
CHAPTER V
INVENTION IN ITS APPLICATION TO WASTE RECOVERY
The necessity to conserve our industrial resources, which is so pronounced to-day, is acting as a powerful stimulant to inventive effort. The mere circumstance that approved apparatus exist for the reclamation of wastes and are readily available to those of a thrifty or enterprising turn of mind no longer suffices to meet the situation. In the past we have been content to practise waste recovery along what may be described as satisfactory lines, but satisfactory only in so far as they represented an attempt to turn refuse to commercial account. In many instances the appliances employed have only been extemporized and, as may be imagined, are far from being efficient. They only enable a certain proportion of the available materials to be recovered. In many instances residues treated for fats have carried away just as much of the essential article after treatment as were actually recovered. In other words, the work was only half completed: the system followed has been unable to give a higher yield owing to errors in its design and construction.
Waste recovery as it should be practised to-day is a science. It is just as precise a science as the extraction of nitrogen from the atmosphere, the smelting of steel, or the production of artificial silk. Hit-and-miss methods may have sufficed during the years when commodities were cheap and plentiful, but to-day there is a world-wide stringency in the supply of anything and everything necessary to commerce. As a consequence prices are ruling high, and so the practice of waste recovery along extremely well-defined scientific lines is essential.
The harnessing of science to this peculiar industry is imperative for more reasons than one. As the process of extraction, say of fats, is pushed to its logical conclusion, the task becomes more and more exacting and expensive, demanding the employment of refined methods. It is far more difficult to draw from the material the last ounce of possibly reclaimable fat than to whip out the first ounce. The last-named is surrendered readily, but to recover the first-named enormous persuasive effort is entailed.
But it is the uttermost ounce which the scientist is determined to obtain. Easy conquest does not appeal to his well-ordered mind, and so we see a spirited struggle in progress to increase efficiency. At the same time in attaining this eminent factor the inventor must keep his eye and hand upon the issue of cost. If it is going to cost more to extract the last absolute ounce than that ounce is worth, then the effort is futile. Commercialism, which considers inventive ingenuity merely from the angle of pounds, shillings and pence, or dollars and cents as the case may be, is not impressed by the mere beauty of any process or apparatus.
The financial issue is surveyed from every possible angle—capital outlay, fuel consumption, simplicity of operation, maintenance charges, depreciation, renewals, and labour. Any one of these several factors may be sufficient to cause the refusal of an advocated process, while should they be experienced cumulatively then the likelihood of the process being adopted is extremely remote. Waste recovery is such a sensitive range of endeavour as to prevent all consideration along philanthropic lines.
An instance in point may be narrated to indicate how perplexing and intricate the problem is. As is well-known, wood, in common with all vegetation, carries a certain proportion of alcohol, a product in keen demand for numerous industries. It is also common knowledge that in working wood enormous waste is incurred, notably in the form of sawdust. This fact induced inventors to attack the problem of extracting the alcoholic content from this residue. Laboratory experiment confirmed the practicability of the project, and even went so far as to indicate how the idea might be commercially developed.
But there is a tremendous gulf between the laboratory and the factory. It was many years ago that the possibility of extracting alcohol from wood first aroused the serious attention of the industrial chemists. They are still wrestling with the problem. Time after time the world is startled by the announcement of a new and inexpensive process for the distillation of alcohol from wood and the prospect of extracting whisky and other popular beverages from sawdust excites intense interest. But, metaphorically speaking, nine days later a strange silence is encountered. The new process has vanished from aught but a memory of much claimed but nothing forthcoming. Fortunes have been sunk and lost in the attempts to solve this momentous problem, and it is probable, from the state of knowledge and the stage of experiment at the moment attained, that many millions more will be expended before commercial success is achieved. One of the greatest obstacles to the realization of the chemist’s dream has been the extremely high temperatures to which resort has to be made, which plays sad havoc with the plant involved, and the charges incident to the renewal of which are so heavy as to render the financial outlook extremely depressing. Even the conditions of war, which scouted all considerations of expense, have not carried us an inch forward. We built one factory to conduct the distillation of wood for the alcohol which was so sorely needed, and planned a second installation. The first factory was promptly abandoned after the signing of the armistice, while the second factory was never completed, owing to the indifferent results achieved with the conduct of the initial plant.
Similar experiences may be narrated in many other fields of attempted waste recovery. Fortunately, however, for every dismal failure recorded a dozen or more overwhelming triumphs can be related. It is this circumstance which induces the experimenter to persevere upon his ventures of discovery. But this is not the only satisfactory feature of success in this field. The spirit of rivalry is so keen that the industrial chemist and the chemical engineer are for ever striving might and main to improve the methods which they have evolved, and in the determination to secure the uttermost ounce of the elusive fat, they proceed to extreme lengths. The eternal quest for improved efficiency is not confined to the extraction of fats; it is equally applicable to the recovery of other products in keen demand and commanding an attractive market price, but I select fat as an example because it is familiar to all.
Moreover, in elaborating his fruitful thoughts the investigator is compelled to bear in mind varying conditions. Accordingly he must adapt his ideas to the prevailing requirements. Obviously it would be inexpedient to concentrate perfecting effort upon one definite system. The plant involved may necessitate a capital outlay possible only to the wealthy firm or city, and utterly beyond the small man anxious to embark upon such an enterprise, or be impracticable to the average town, to which the plant, owing to the limited volume of material to be handled, would never justify the probable expense.
In these circumstances we see plants and methods being adapted to varying demands so that the reclamation of the urgently required fats, oils and greases may be pursued by one and all. In a previous chapter, describing the recovery of these commodities from the swill-tubs of the army, I referred to one system which is wholly mechanical in its operation. In this instance success depends essentially upon the centrifugal turbine extractor or “whizzer,” which it must be admitted has proved exceedingly attractive in application. For this reason the “Iwel” system, as it is called, has met with conspicuous success and wide application, being found in every industry.
But there is another system, or rather wide range of systems, known as the Scott, differing entirely from the one already mentioned. This, too, is of British origin and construction, and compels attention from its applicability to every possible requirement as well as adaptability to every conceivable condition, from the factory handling only a few thousand pounds of miscellaneous fat-carrying refuse a day, to the huge packing plants to be found upon the American continent, both North and South, Australia and New Zealand, where the accumulations of fresh fat are imposing, and where the necessity for prompt big-scale treatment to secure the attractive prices ruling for high-grade fats is so obvious. The operations of the firm under review demand additional attention inasmuch as, through the combined efforts of its chemists and engineers, it has been able to evolve and perfect a process which is distinctly remarkable, seeing that it enables all but 1 per cent. of the fat contained in the crude refuse to be reclaimed, and in such a manner as to render the method completely profitable.
The Scott systems, fundamentally, are three in number. In the one the waste animal products are digested with open steam in conjunction with a vacuum; the second method comprises the dry rendering of edible fats under vacuum; while the third practice is the extraction of the grease by what is known as the solvent system. Each possesses its individual features, making direct appeal to the situation to which it is most eminently adapted, and, to a certain degree, the three respective methods may be said to represent an equal number of progressive strides towards maximum efficiency, with the solvent process constituting the pinnacle of success so far achieved in this province from the simple fact that it reduces the loss of fat to 1 per cent. absolute.
However, it is difficult to lay down any hard-and-fast rule concerning the selection of any of these three processes because, in deciding a question of this character, full consideration must be given to the class of material to be handled. For instance, although the dry rendering system under vacuum is especially applicable for the reclamation of edible fats, it is not to say that the first, or open steam, process is only adapted to the production of non-edible fats. As a matter of fact there are certain classes of offal which are not suited to dry steam rendering. The fat contained in such refuse can be most advantageously extracted only by the open steam process. This particularly applies to the offal produced in the large killing establishments, where such refuse can be dealt with in the fresh condition.
The dry steam rendering process is particularly applicable to the production of fine or high grade edible fats. The finest fat recovered from an animal source is that known as “Oleo” margarine or “Premier Jus.” This is rendered from the very finest crude fat obtainable, and in order to ensure super quality being obtained the conventional treatment is one demanding extreme care so that its inherent qualities may not suffer the slightest injury. The general practice is to mince the raw material very finely and then to treat it in hot water-jacketed pans at a very low temperature, every attention being observed to prevent the temperature rising above a rigidly predetermined point. In these circumstances it will readily be observed that the process is necessarily somewhat costly and occupies appreciable time. But by means of the dry rendering process under vacuum the raw material may be subjected to very high temperatures, and that without the product being impaired in any way. In fact, it is equal in every respect to that obtained by the orthodox process, while, of course, it is far more expeditious and cheaper.
The plant necessary to the vacuum system is simple. It comprises a cylinder or boiler called a digester, into which the offal to be treated is placed. Under the wet steam process and after the vessel has been closed a vacuum is created. Open steam then is admitted into the digester and in such a way as to enable the steam to pass upwards through the mass, thereby thoroughly permeating it. Naturally the hot steam renders the fat fluid, that which is free running readily to the attached tanks.
Rendering is conducted under a pressure varying from 20 lb. to 40 lb. as the case may be, but the lower the pressure the better. The application of the vacuum to the process constitutes the crux of the invention. At first sight the advantages of the principle may not be readily apparent, but they may be simply explained. In the first instance the creation of vacuum conditions effects the removal of the greatest obstruction to the influence of heat, namely air. If this be eliminated cooking can be conducted at a much lower temperature than would otherwise be practicable. Fat, indeed all animal matter, carries a certain proportion of moisture and this must be withdrawn before the actual release of the commodity can be effected. In vacuum water boils at a temperature below one-half of that required at ordinary atmospheric pressure. In other words, instead of the boiling-point of water being 212 degrees Fahrenheit, as is the case with the kettle on the hob, it will boil at less than 106 degrees Fahrenheit. Consequently, if a high vacuum be established within the digester the latent water can be converted into steam to assist in the melting process proper, which then can be conducted unhampered. Temperature, moreover, exercises a decisive influence upon the quality of the product, this being very superior in quality when the recovery is carried out at a low degree.
Another point to be noted is that all noisome odours which are thrown off during cooking, and which cannot be avoided, are exhausted from the vessel. They are not allowed to escape into the open air, but are led to the furnace to be discharged into the hottest part of the fire. They have to ascend through the incandescent fuel resting upon the fire-bars, and, since they are not allowed to become mixed with air, must undergo complete combustion. Consequently no pollution of the atmosphere can possibly result from the treatment of even the most rancid offal. It being impossible to construe the operation into a nuisance, the plant can be installed at any convenient point even in a densely-settled area in safety, because the system fully complies with all the rigid requirements of the local sanitary authorities and health officers. This is a most important feature and one which will be readily appreciated when one recalls the insufferable conditions precipitated by the recovery of fats and greases from refuse under the old systems.
But the outstanding characteristic of the vacuum system is the increased yield of fat forthcoming. No mechanical system, whether it be pressure or high-speed whizzing, can extend completely satisfactory efficiency results. As is well known, the fat entering into the constitution of animal matter is contained in myriads of minute cells which are surrounded by tissue. The walls of these cells are exceedingly elastic and of prodigious strength. They may be compressed to an inordinately intense degree in a press, or distorted and stretched by recourse to centrifugal action without breaking. It is this circumstance which reacts against a high recovery of fat by recourse to pressing and whizzing because the cells cannot be induced to burst.
When a vacuum is applied a totally different result is recorded. The application of heat causes the fat and air within the tiny cells to expand, and in this manner the walls of the cells become distended to the limits of their elasticity. The removal of the surrounding air within the vessel by the vacuum pump completely upsets all equilibrium. The air pressure within the cells is higher than that applied from without, and consequently there results an accentuated expansive effort within the cells. But the tissue has already been stretched to its utmost limit, and so being unable to withstand the increased strain imposed collapses, thus releasing the imprisoned air and fat. Under the vacuum process the disruption of the fat-carrying cells is complete, and this explains why an augmented yield of fat is obtained by this method.
Under the open steam vacuum process the actual practice is to apply the vacuum three times at intervals during the operation. The first application serves to remove the obstructive air to facilitate and expedite cooking of the contents. The second brings about the disruption of the cells and the release of the fat which they contain. The third application of the vacuum, which is effected towards the end of the process, effects the withdrawal of the foul vapours arising from the digesting operation and their discharge into the fire.
Owing to the steam being admitted to the digester and being allowed to come into direct contact with the mass, the residue upon withdrawal is wet. The grease, which has been rendered fluid in the process, has escaped from the digester through a suitable draining pipe into a tank where settlement and clarification are carried out. But all the grease cannot be recovered in this manner. A certain proportion, notwithstanding the disruption of the fat cells, is held up in the mass and can only be recovered to an appreciable degree by submitting the residue to treatment in a press. In this way the greater part of the remaining fat suffers expulsion and recovery. The wet cakes upon removal from the press then have to be dried and disintegrated.
The dry vacuum process, which is essentially adapted to the rendering of edible fat, has many advantages over the wet steam method. Whilst the plant employed is broadly similar to that employed in the process already described, there is one notable difference. The digester is enveloped in an outer shell or jacket, and the steam is circulated through the space between the two walls. It is not brought into contact with the contents of the digester at any stage of the process. The action taking place within the vessel during the operation is precisely the same as when the steam is brought into direct contact with the refuse, the fat being rendered fluid by the heat and the cells undergoing disruption by the creation of the vacuum. A high vacuum is maintained throughout the whole rendering process. Consequently the moisture inherent to the raw material is withdrawn as rapidly as it is converted into steam, resulting in the production of a fine edible fat totally free from moisture. Moreover, the residue withdrawn from the digester at the end of the process, known as “crackling” or “greaves,” is likewise quite free from moisture, although, as in the case of that resulting from the open steam process, an appreciable proportion of fat is held up in the mass which can only be recovered to a pronounced degree by the application of pressure.
The dry steam or jacketed vacuum process is especially adapted to the treatment of fresh fat waste, the reclaimed product of which is primarily intended for the preparation of edible foodstuffs, such as oleo-margarine. By carrying out reclamation without bringing the steam into contact with the fat several distinct advantages are obtained, the most important being the retention of the natural properties of the fat, and no loss of glycerine which otherwise is inevitable to a certain degree. Consequently, it is an ideal process for the treatment of the “Premier Jus.” There is no need to mince the fat finely, as in the orthodox rendering process, it being necessary only to cut the waste roughly for charging the digester.
A special press has been devised for the treatment of the crackling or greaves. It is of the cage type which allows the fat, during pressure, and which operation is carried out while the residue is very hot, to be expressed between the bars of the cage to fall into a trough for recovery. The cakes, after pressing, are dry, excellent in quality, light in colour and of attractive flavour, a result due to the fact that the tissues have not been scorched or charred in any way during the rendering process. The greaves constitute an excellent ingredient for the preparation of kennel and poultry foods, and enter extensively into the manufacture of dog-cakes. In a few instances the dry greaves, owing to their high nutritive value, are served to the kennel in the straight form as they issue from the press.
While the dry vacuum process is certainly efficient, it does not fully comply with the latest ideas pertaining to the recovery of fats from organic waste. The press is the weak link, because thereby it is only possible to recover a certain proportion of the fat held up in the mass, even when the cellular construction has been completely broken up. It is stated, as a result of accumulated experience, that the amount of fat left in the greaves may run up to as high as 10 per cent. of the original fatty content of the offal: in many instances it has been found to range as high as 20 per cent. The fact that this remaining fat defying reclamation by pressing must be relatively high is evident from the readiness with which certain waste exploiters will buy up the greaves, not to turn them into kennel and poultry foods, but to submit them to further treatment in order to wring out still more of the fat which they carry.
This manifestation of enterprise has been rendered possible by the advance of the science of fat recovery from offal to such a level as to enable 9 per cent. of the fat remaining in a 10 per cent. greaves to be extracted. It is the prevailing high price commanded by fats which renders such additional treatment upon an extensive scale so attractive and eminently profitable.
The process in question is the Scott solvent recovery invention to which I have referred, and which represents the greatest achievement yet recorded in the whole science of fat reclamation from organic waste. The process was perfected and patented shortly before the war, and although hostilities militated against its immediate and rapid development, thereby delaying the recognition of its overwhelming virtues, it is satisfactory to learn that many plants operating upon this principle have been laid down, not only in this country, but in other parts of the world. It is the process which at the moment is arousing the most intense interest, owing to the progressive stride which it represents in this field.
The process is delightfully simple, although apparently it involves an intricate plant and demands a higher level of skilled labour, but where the work of reclamation is conducted along ambitious lines it cannot be excelled. Briefly described, it turns upon the employment of benzine, or some other equally volatile solvent which, as we all know, will readily dissolve fat and absorb it. What can be done with this agent is familiar to every housewife who practises the removal of grease spots and other unsightly marks from clothing by the aid of benzine, while it is the medium whereby dry-cleaning is rendered practicable.
The raw material—condemned meat, offal and other organs of the animal recovered from the slaughter-house which possess no edible value—is charged into a steam-jacketed horizontal extractor fitted with stirring gear. When condemned carcasses are to be treated there is no need to carry out preliminary deboning; it is merely necessary to reduce the material to rough pieces for convenience of handling. It will be observed that the steam is not brought into contact with the mass, but is circulated through the jacket as in the dry vacuum process.
The solvent is introduced in the first instance in the form of vapour, being passed through boxes of special construction, to pass finally into the extractor. The contents of the latter being in a condition of constant agitation as a result of the manipulation of the stirring gear, the benzine vapour is able to permeate the mass. The heat radiated from the steam circulating through the jacket converts the moisture present in the material into vapour and with which the solvent comes into contact. Vaporization of the moisture causes the solvent itself to condense to a certain degree, and in the liquid form it dissolves out the grease. The process is continued until the bulk of the moisture has been eliminated, when the grease and solvent are withdrawn. When the grease has been fully extracted down to a limit which will result in a dry meat-meal, containing about 1 per cent. of grease, the benzine is steamed off in the usual manner. The benzine itself is recovered because it is only permitted to work in a closed circuit, and, after fulfilling its purpose, is passed to a still to be cleaned and purified, after which it is again passed to the extractor to repeat the cycle of operation.
The process, it will be observed, is continuous, while the benzine may be used over and over again. All that is required is to place a sufficient quantity of the solvent into the circuit to carry out the operation with the essential efficiency. Naturally, the quantity involved varies with the size of the plant and the work to be fulfilled, but it may run up to 5,000 or more gallons. The plant is generally laid out upon the unit principle, which is the most satisfactory, because it facilitates the adaptation of the installation to the volume of work in hand. One or more units can be shut down during the “off” period, allowing the remainder to be worked up to their full capacity, which, of course, is the most efficient and economical method. The losses of benzine are very low—not exceeding 1 per cent. of the weight of the raw material treated. In fact, there are many installations in operation where, over a period of one year, the benzine loss recorded is actually below 1 per cent. This factor is vitally influenced by the care and attention bestowed upon the plant. If it be carefully tended, all joints being kept in the tightly packed condition, and the condenser maintained in a high degree of efficiency, the benzine loss may be reduced to an infinitesimal degree, the value thereof representing but an insignificant fraction of the value of the increased yield of oil and fat.
The solvent acts upon the grease only. It does not affect in any way the gelatinous material, and, consequently, the nitrogenous or ammonia value of the ultimate meal is considerably enhanced as compared with the results achieved with the digesting plant. The meal is discharged from the extractor in a dry crisp condition ready for immediate grinding, and is admirably adapted for poultry and cattle feeding. No traces of the benzine remain.
The bones may be ground immediately, if desired, but if these should be forthcoming in sufficient quantity they should be passed on to the glue and gelatine plant. There is no necessity to submit them to a further degreasing process, because this has been completed in the one operation in the extractor. As a rule, however, with installations devoted to the treatment of condemned meat and other offal, the bones are not forthcoming in sufficient quantities to justify the attachment of a glue recovery plant although, of course, they can be sold to other works specializing in this work. It is merely a question as to whether it would pay to transport the degreased bones to the glue works. If not, they can be ground up to be utilized as fertilizer, for which, it is needless to say, a good price can be obtained.
The recovery of fat down to 1 per cent. of that contained in the crude material does not constitute the only outstanding advantage of the solvent extraction process. It enables the whole of the operations to be condensed into one task, completely dispensing with all auxiliary apparatus. The refuse is merely charged into the extractor and withdrawn in the form of powder, and, if condemned carcasses have been exploited, bone as well. What this means may readily be realized. Under the open steam digesting system—even with the wet and dry vacuum systems to a lesser degree—the refuse must first be cooked. The material upon withdrawal from the digester must be passed through the press, after which treatment it has to be disintegrated and dried. If the reclamation of the gelatinous or “stick” liquor, as it is called, be part of the process this also demands handling. Thus one may safely anticipate having to conform with five distinct and separate operations, involving intermediate handling and supplementary plant, while the loss of fat in passing from stage to stage is far heavier than may possibly be imagined. But, with the solvent extraction process, the numerous above-mentioned operations are resolved into one, and one only—the charging of the extractor with the refuse. The saving in labour by the elimination of all interhandling is obvious, which in these days of enhanced wage costs demands consideration, while there are no intermediate losses of oil. In so far as saving of time is concerned there is little, if any, difference. Under the solvent extraction method a period of eight to ten hours is required to deal completely with a charge of 4,500 to 9,000 lb.
The fruits accruing from this latest manifestation of ingenuity in connection with the reclamation of waste may be tersely emphasized. The reclamation of the fat down to 1 per cent. being accepted, it may also prove interesting to indicate how effectively the nitrogenous or ammonia value of the product is preserved. The following represents a typical analysis of a meat meal, which, it should be pointed out, contains no bone whatever. The figures are:—
| Per cent. | |
|---|---|
| Tribasic phosphate of lime (superphosphate) | 3·25 |
| Nitrogen | 11·37 |
| ⤷ = ammonia | 13·81 |
At the large cattle-slaughtering establishments of North and South America, and at the sheep-killing stations in Australia and New Zealand, the residues from which the edible fat has been recovered by the open steam process are turned over to the solvent extraction plants which have now been introduced to form an integral part of the waste-recovery system, the value of the invention being fully appreciated. At first the practice was to dry the residues from the digesters before committing them to the extraction plant, but since it was found superfluous to carry out such a preliminary, the residue is turned over from the open steam digester where the edible fats are obtained to the solvent extraction plant, the idea of course being to secure the proportion of fat escaping recovery in the digester. In this manner 99 per cent. of the fat contained in the crude waste is obtained, but the proportion reclaimed from the practice of the solvent extraction process is set aside for manufacturing purposes—conversion into soap and other utilitarian commodities.
In the course of digesting the fresh fat with open steam a considerable quantity of the “stick” liquor is precipitated, and its recovery for size is fully justified. In the crude form this liquor is somewhat weak, but by means of the Scott multiple-effect vacuum evaporating plant it can be concentrated to any required degree of density. This product is blended with the meat-meal from the solvent extraction plant in a suitable vessel and is then dried to a powder, the ultimate meal being high in ammonia.
In the case of the offal which is not suitable for the production of an edible fat, recourse to the open steam digester is eliminated. The refuse, along with the condemned meat, is consigned directly to the extraction plant to be dealt with in one operation. A similar practice is followed at the large pig-killing establishments. At one installation in South America, where there is an impressive illustration of British ingenuity and enterprise in regard to waste recovery upon the Scott principle, the tallow produced is immediately dispatched to the adjoining soap works—also a British installation—where the glycerine is recovered and soap is produced. In this instance therefore we have a powerful example of a self-contained establishment completely equipped for the recovery of the whole of the by-products incurred in the course of its normal operations and to the utmost advantage.
The Germans have been extremely active in advancing the possibilities of the solvent extraction process. Several large plants are in operation in the Fatherland, of which we heard a good deal during the war, but the character of the operations of which were grossly misrepresented and exaggerated. Those behind the lines were reserved exclusively for the disposal of fallen horses as well as the offal and other wastes resulting from the feeding of the troops. The fat, immediately upon its extraction, was treated for its glycerine, which was dispatched to the explosive manufactories in Germany, while the residues were converted into soap upon the spot. This practice was followed because the glycerine was the staple in most urgent demand, and the transport of which was far simpler than the movement of the crude reclaimed fats. So far as soap was concerned the German soldiers, even up to the front lines, had little or no room for complaint, for the simple reason that it was prepared in their midst at the plants which were installed within easy access of the centres of suitable raw material supply.
British manufacturers, although somewhat conservative, are becoming alive to the fact that only by the solvent extraction process can the utmost wealth be won from fats derived from waste materials, and many interesting expressions of enterprise in this direction may be recorded. For instance, the manufacture of maize flour has made decided strides in these islands during the past five years, doubtless owing to the deficiency in connection with the wheaten product. However, before this grain can be converted into the farinaceous form the germ must be extracted, otherwise the keeping qualities of the flour are seriously impaired. But, seeing that the germ represents approximately 20 per cent. of the whole grain, it will be seen that the industry has to face a loss of one-fifth of its raw material in preparing the flour—an imposing quantity. However, the germ is rich in oil, this constituting approximately 20 per cent. of its bulk. The demand for oil, particularly those of vegetable origin, is such that the maize germ, instead of being turned over directly to cattle, is now being exploited for its oil. By the solvent extraction process 99 per cent. of this available 20 per cent. of oil is being extracted, the resultant meal thus being virtually free of oil.
When the idea was first taken in hand it was maintained that the withdrawal of the oil would imperil the feeding qualities of the meal residue. This being conclusively disproved it was then argued that the employment of benzine for the purpose would depreciate its cattle-food value, the idea doubtless being entertained that it must be associated with a certain benzine flavour from coming into contact with the solvent. But here again practice did not coincide with precept, because horses will devour the meal, freshly drawn from the extractor, with avidity, and look round for more, proving very convincingly that the benzine is completely exhausted from the extractor after having fulfilled its designed function. Experience has shown that meal made from the de-oiled maize germ is every whit as good and as nourishing as, if not actually superior to, that which has not been subjected to the oil-recovery process.
The solvent extraction process has proved to be of incalculable value to the firms specializing in the dry-cleaning of clothes, fabrics, and textiles in general. When the articles are likely to be charged with appreciable quantities of dirt, such as carpets, they are first subjected to a dusting treatment which removes the superfluous or free dirt. Wearing apparel, except in a few instances, does not require submission to this preliminary operation and so is passed into the washing machine, which contains only benzine, together with a slight proportion of ammoniacal liquor. The garments are passed through several successive washings and rinsings in various machines, to be submitted finally to the hydro-extractor, where practically the whole of the benzine is recovered, the goods being delivered practically dry. But to be positive upon this point they are hung for three or four hours in a drying room. The articles are then examined for any stains, such as blood and grease marks, which have resisted elimination in the mechanical cleaning process. These are removed by hand—“hand-spotting” as it is called, either with water, or with benzine and a little soluble soap and a brush.
The dirt and other deleterious matter removed by the benzine in the washing and rinsing machines is separated from the solvent, which undergoes a simple treatment, bringing about its complete purification, when it is returned to the service-tanks for further use. The process is one of continuous distillation, the benzine, as previously mentioned, being used over and over again, it only being necessary to add certain quantities from time to time to remedy the unavoidable losses incurred. The wastage of benzine averages about 15 per cent. of the weight of the goods treated. Seeing that about 4,500 gallons may pass hourly through the machines and the circuit, the loss is relatively low. The quantity of dirt removed, despite the thoroughness of the process, is comparatively trifling.
One interesting phase of the dry-cleaning process deserves mention, if only to bring home the assiduity with which the reclamation of grease from every conceivable source is now being prosecuted. Some of the firms are devoting attention to the separation of the grease removed from the clothes by the benzine. Seeing that the only likely contribution of grease is that removed from the hands or other part of the body coming into contact with the fabric, and that the grease in question is only natural perspiration, it will be seen that, under the most favourable conditions, such deposit must necessarily be exceedingly trifling. That it should be deemed worthy of recovery seems almost incredible. But it is being done, though the yield is low, and it is proving profitable.
Probably no other waste is to be found in such a multiplicity of forms and in such unexpected quarters as that capable of yielding grease, but that it should pay to recover natural perspiration to assist in the lubrication of a railway locomotive, or some other piece of machinery, serves to emphasize the extremely fine limits to which fat-reclamation science has been carried. It is admitted that, in the majority of cases, the possible yields are so small as to render reclamation absolutely impossible by any but the solvent extraction process, which undoubtedly constitutes the highest testimony to the efficiency and value of this wonderful British invention it is possible to advance.
CHAPTER VI
SAVING THE SCRAP FROM THE SEA
If the human race be extravagant in one, more than in any other direction, it is undoubtedly in connection with the utilization of the harvests of the sea. It is a failing as strongly asserted by the primitive as by the cultured races. The aborigine, when there is a big run, will trap as many fish as he can, not for consumption, but apparently for the mere sake of catching his prey. He will select what he requires and leave the remainder to rot. His civilized brother pursues a broadly similar course, only in this event decomposition may not be permitted to run its course without fulfilling a beneficial purpose. The process can be harnessed, as it were, to a more or less useful function.
Improvidence in the consumption of fish is particularly noticeable among those nations which are able to point to an extensive salt-water front, combined with a densely-settled population within a relatively small area. It becomes accentuated when the country is possessed of an intricate and excellent system of rapid inland transportation, allowing the prompt movement of the catches from the points of landing to the centres of consumption.
Such a country is Great Britain. With us fish is an exceedingly cheap food and one which, normally, is readily procurable in adequate quantities. The “long haul” by rail occasions no apprehensions, inasmuch as the railway transport problem, so far as fish is concerned, has been magnificently solved, it being possible to move consignments four hundred, even six hundred miles within a few hours.
The sea’s contribution to the table is prolific. At the same time it is variable. This factor in itself conduces towards pronounced wastage. We seem to have failed lamentably in our efforts to cope with the alternating spells of plenty and relative scarcity in a scientific manner. We have not mastered the adjustment of seasonal gluts, arising from the periodic massed movements of the fish, to shortages in order to maintain a steady and uniform supply the whole year round. In view of the immense strides which have been made in the art of preserving perishable foodstuffs, this deficiency is certainly somewhat remarkable.
The extremely low prices at which the bulk of the food from the sea, particularly of herring and sprat—occasionally mackerel—is available, are primarily responsible for the extravagance which rules. This state of affairs offers another interesting illustration of the fact that extremely cheap living promotes waste. We need only to recall the experience of the war to assure ourselves upon this point. Under the system of price control, coupled with abnormally high rates, fish purchases had to be conducted by the trade with extreme caution to obviate financial losses, while, similarly, the consumer was compelled to be more economic and less fastidious in his, or her, tastes. Under such conditions far less of the single fish was wasted, while greater ingenuity was exercised in the preparation of the less attractive edible portions for the table.
Nevertheless, no matter how extreme the care or economy manifested, a certain degree of wastage is unavoidable. For the most part the offal, which in itself is appreciable in volume, is regarded as irreclaimable and valueless except as a fertilizer. But this reasoning is fallacious. Fish-waste is capable of furnishing raw material in several forms to feed other industries. As yet this notable circumstance has not become fully appreciated in these islands, the practicability of using such refuse only having been established during the past few years.
Ability to turn fish offal to distinct profitable advantage not only solves the problem in its economic aspect, but at the same time indicates a promising outlook for glut catches and to which the ordinary markets are often denied. In this country the conventional disposal of surplus fish is decidedly deplorable for the reason that it follows the line of least resistance. A glut or late catch is generally sold at an absurd price in bulk to serve merely as manure.
If the fish could be turned directly into the soil such a use might not be exposed to severe condemnation, although it is to be deprecated because it represents a serious misuse of valuable food. But, as a rule, this cannot be conducted with the essential promptitude for obvious reasons. Then the farmer suffers a heavy loss. Vigilant gulls and other birds having a well-defined penchant for fish diet raid the land to enjoy a Gargantuan feast with the minimum of effort on their part. The birds will even follow a train, or road wagons, bearing a manurial consignment of their food, for miles from the point of landing and then, after it has been dumped, will swoop down to gorge themselves to the full. In many instances a farmer has been known to lose at least 50 per cent. of his purchase in this manner. He may essay alert and effective measures to combat the birds’ attacks, but he will find it an unequal contest. In one instance, which came before my notice, the insatiable birds, catching sight of one or two open trucks laden with a freshly-landed catch en route to the land, attacked the wagons so vigorously as to cause a very perceptible shrinkage in the load before it reached its destination. Another farmer, who had been persuaded to buy two or three truckloads of freshly-landed fish just because it was cheap, subsequently expressed his doubt as to whether he had driven a good bargain after all. The birds attacked the field over which the loads were distributed in such overwhelming numbers as to prompt the opinion that the field really contained more gulls than fish! So, after all, it is extremely questionable whether the purchase of a bumper catch for use as a fertilizer is really such a bargain as it may appear from a cursory reflection.
In our large cities and towns the treatment of fish offal and surplus supplies drawn from the markets, stores, and retail shops, as well as the hotels, restaurants, and clubs, for industrial exploitation, should present no difficulty whatever. It is an offal apart and a noisome one. Its susceptibility to rapid decomposition and the emission of obnoxious odours during the process demand its prompt removal. It cannot be handled with other refuse owing to its offensiveness. Consequently the system of special collection by vehicles of the closed tank type has become the general practice. In this manner the disconcerting factor pertaining to the utilization of organic waste—effective segregation at the source—is assured.
Although, so far as we are concerned, the record of practical achievements concerning the industrial utilization of fish-waste is slender, owing to the few firms having been persuaded to embrace this phase of trading, it is consoling to learn that we possess what may be described as the leading authorities competent to deal with this issue in all its varying aspects, and to be equipped with the best approved facilities for conducting this work along the latest and most promising lines. There is one firm in particular which has built up a unique reputation in this direction, having been responsible for the design and construction, as well as installation, of the largest fish-waste reclamation plants in operation throughout the world. Some of these equipments are most elaborate in character, and their very dimensions, activity, scale of operations and prosperity, serve to demonstrate, in the most convincing manner, the enormous wealth capable of being won from fish scrap when the task is conducted along the lines advanced by scientific development. The British firm in question, to whose apparatus I have devoted extensive description in a previous chapter, has been responsible for the complete installations forming part and parcel of the huge canneries scattered along the western seaboard of the North American continent.
It somewhat redeems our own short-sightedness and lack of enterprise to know that we have a firm in our midst which has achieved many distinct triumphs in the great issue of waste reclamation. It retains an imposing staff of highly-trained chemists who have become specialists in this privileged province, and they have devoted especial attention to the exploitation of fish-scrap in the anticipation that this may yet develop into a pretentious British industry. The presiding genius of this organization has also associated himself intimately with the problem from the severely scientific side, as well as becoming thoroughly familiarized with the latest methods as practised in Germany, Scandinavia, and other countries in order to reap full advantage from the lessons which they are able to extend in point of equipment and practice. In the opinion of this active-minded and enterprising authority we have nothing to learn from the foreigner either in point of processes, plant, or efficiency. We merely lack the necessary imagination, initiative, and commercial acumen to be able to reap the full financial and trading harvest to be gathered from the exploitation of fish-scrap. While we are apathetic and backward in this connection our Dominions are alert and astute. We need only to turn to the extensive installation recently laid down in Australia—a model of its type—and which was completed by the firm in question, to grasp what can be accomplished in this peculiar field.
It was extremely fortunate for us, as a nation, to be possessed of the knowledge and creative resources of a progressive firm. During the war, when the economic conditions became so tense, the question of the economic disposal of fish-waste to full commercial advantage suddenly assumed an unexpected significance. Specific raw materials were urgently demanded, and it was decided to search sedulously for additional domestic sources of supply. In the conduct of these investigations the potentialities of fish-scrap were forced to the forefront. The enemy was exploiting this field to its absolute limits, so why should we continue to ignore it? Cognizant of the precise possibilities of this industry and the financial attractions which it possessed the head of the firm of which I have written expressed his readiness to extend all assistance in his power. His knowledge of the craft, together with that of what the enemy could and could not do, proved invaluable, and enabled us to place the recovery of the wealth from this waste upon a solid foundation, and in such a manner as to allow of its indefinite expansion in the future.
So far as turning fish-scrap to commercial account has been concerned in these islands the axiom pertaining to the prophet and his own country has not been wholly applicable. The Germans endeavoured to establish an industry upon this raw material among us but signally failed. One or two small plants were laid down along the broad lines in vogue upon the other side of the North Sea, but they fell so far short of expectations or requirements, and were so strikingly inferior to British thought as to fall into disuse. They have long since been broken up.
The Teuton, however, was not solicitous of the welfare of the British nation in exploiting British fish-waste. He was merely prompted to plant himself here because the necessary refuse—raw material from his point of view—was obtainable in such huge quantities and at a low figure. The output was shipped to Germany, where it commanded an attractive price and was in keen demand. The spurned and rejected of Britain became the highly prized of Germany.
Fish-waste falls into two broad classes, which are yet somewhat sharply defined. These are white fish and oily offal respectively, the herring being the best example of the latter category. Consequently, to conduct fish-waste reclamation and exploitation for the by-products upon a sufficiently comprehensive scale in these islands it would be necessary to separate the offal into the two distinctive classifications at the source. However, this would not be such a perplexing problem as it might appear at first sight. Such segregation is imperative for specific technical reasons, while one must also remember that the salt content of the offal varies widely in the two classes of fish.
Scrap of this character can be induced to yield three commercial products as a result of inexpensive treatment. They are respectively meal for poultry and cattle, oil, and fertilizer. A fourth commodity might be included, namely, fish-glue. Hitherto we have been content to draw upon other countries for our supplies of this article, although abundant raw material for its production has always been readily obtainable. But manufacture was doubtless regarded as being extremely speculative for the simple reason that the demand for this article was severely limited. For some reason or other fish-glue, though extensively used by the peoples of other nations, has never been regarded with pronounced favour in British circles although it cannot be excelled as an adhesive. Probably its peculiarly pungent odour has been responsible for our indifferent appreciation of its virtues. One or two small factories were equipped to conduct domestic manufacture, but they were far from being pretentious in their scale of operation.
Fish-glue has attained its greatest vogue in Germany, Scandinavia, Canada, and the United States of America—the last-named more particularly. Yet there is no reason why it should not become equally popular here. All that is required is to enlighten the community concerning its properties, and here is a grand opportunity for propaganda in support of a new industry. There is no secret associated with its production as might possibly be imagined. The quality most essential to secure its widespread appreciation is merely a display of grim energy, push, and go. It is not a case of being called upon to advance the claims of an entirely new product. It is known more or less throughout the country from the circumstance that it is being exploited in varying degree throughout the world. In these circumstances the manufacture of British fish-glue from British fish-waste presents enormous possibilities, capable of illimitable development.
There are signs that we are bestirring ourselves in this direction. Heretofore fish-glue has always been made from the skins of white fish. It has now been suggested that, in this country, the bones might be put to similar account, the gummy content thereof being quite pronounced. Expert opinion favours the contention that such might be carried out to advantage, but there is one supreme difficulty—the adequate supply of the essential bones. They could be drawn from the filleting trade, but the extent of this supply is somewhat problematical. Fish-bones as such have not yet attained the high estate of recognition as a distinct article of commerce. Nevertheless a possible way out of this difficulty has been suggested. It should be quite practicable, when employing the oil extraction process to which I refer later, to sift out the larger bones before submitting the dry residue to the grinding process. In this way it would be possible to secure a ready supply of the necessary raw material for the production of the glue.
It has also been suggested in certain home circles that herring offal might be treated in such a way as to yield fish-glue, but this represents a venture upon untrodden ground. From such a statement it must not be inferred that this residue could not be induced to yield the substance desired, but so far as is known the offal has never been devoted to this purpose. Nevertheless, the suggestion is to be applauded. It is indicative of the new spirit attending the disposal of fish offal and goes to prove that British commercial pioneering is far from being numbered among the lost arts. The mere launch of the inquiry has sufficed to spur the chemist to investigate the problem, and any success achieved in the laboratory in this direction will represent an enormous progressive stride owing to the magnitude of our herring fishery.
At the moment it is the recovery of the oil, meal, and fertilizer which constitutes the primary objectives of the industry. Of the three possible by-products the meal is doubtless the most remunerative. To a certain degree the contemporary concentration of effort upon the conversion of the offal into meal is due to the fact that this constituted the essence of German endeavour in these islands before the war. This meal was in keen demand in Germany, and the bulk thereof was dispatched to that country and Japan. The interruption of this supply to the former, as a result of the outbreak of hostilities, hit the enemy somewhat severely. Not only was he thus deprived of the crude meal prepared in Britain, but he was also denied the opportunity to turn the waste accruing from the consumption in the Fatherland of the heavy imports of British herring which were also summarily cut off. Doubtless Germany cherishes hopes that her industrious sons, who specialized in this distinctive craft, will be permitted to return to the scene of their former labours and to exploit British fish-scrap once again to the advantage of the German nation upon the conclusion of peace. May the wish become no more than father to the thought. We have not failed to profit from the many lessons taught by the war: we have been forced to recognize the many virtues of fish-meal and have made, and still are making, spirited efforts to repair the losses in this line of trading which, from our indifference and lack of imagination, we lost.
To galvanize British effort the fish-meal and fish-manure (guano) manufacturers have joined hands. Propaganda has been waged vigorously by the association, while agricultural societies and colleges have willingly co-operated to spread the gospel of enlightenment. Farmers have been canvassed sedulously, and the value of these by-products for feeding stock and soil have been brought convincingly before them. As a poultry food fish-meal is declared to be unsurpassable, and this circumstance has been driven well home. The result of this onslaught has been to force the farmer, an admittedly difficult individual to convince, into the admission that these products are possessed of far-reaching potentialities, the result being that, to-day, an increasing demand for fish-meal and guano prevails, which has exercised the obvious effect of stimulating the exploitation of fish-scrap to a very pronounced degree.
During the war circumstances militated against the fulfilment of any impressive programme of development along modern lines. Plant and machinery could not be procured owing to the prior claims advanced by other industries. Consequently the problem became resolved rather into the modernization and adaptation of existing plants, many of which suffered from being woefully inefficient. But even in this direction much was achieved which cannot fail to be of distinct value, since it has served to illustrate what can be done in this field to financial profit. Now that trade is returning to the normal we may safely anticipate a striking advance along the whole industrial line in the installation of comprehensive plants coinciding with the very latest expressions of scientific thought, and which will not fail to conduce to the winning of impressively additional wealth from this hitherto sadly-neglected material.
So far as the white fish is concerned the conversion of the offal into meal represents a straightforward operation. It is merely dried under vacuum along the lines already described, a steam-jacketed drier or concentrator being used for the purpose. If the waste be stale or heavily impregnated with salt it cannot be used as food, the product in this instance being bagged for sale as a fertilizer. But the manufacturer, owing to the enhanced profit to be derived from the sale of the product in the feeding-meal form naturally strives to secure this article, and so, if designed for this use, the meal, after issuance from the drier, is passed through a disintegrator and is then graded through a sifting reel.
It is the exploitation of the herring and the sprat, both in the form of offal, glut catches, and condemned consignments, which presents the most attractive future in these islands. When it is remembered that the annual yield of the sea to the fishermen of Britain represents a round 4,000,000,000 herrings, it will be conceded that here must be a Klondyke of waste. Unfortunately, however, the issue is not so straightforward as it would seem to be. An enormous quantity of the catches are set aside for salting and curing to allow of export to foreign markets. In the past Russia and Germany were our largest customers for this foodstuff, their combined purchases running to a round 800,000,000 lb. and exceeding £4,000,000—$20,000,000—in value. When the fish is salted the treatment of the offal presents a rather teasing problem. Its excessive salt content reacts against its conversion into poultry-meal except in very small quantities which are almost too insignificant to demand attention. When a fish-meal carries salt in excess of 5 per cent. it can be used as a constituent of blended or compounded foods, and then only sparingly. Consequently the possible consumption in this field can only be relatively trifling.
By salting the herring the saline content is increased to 20 or even 25 per cent., and the removal of the added salt offers a supreme obstacle. Fortunately it crops up only at certain seasons, but, at these periods, the quantities of offal and scrap to be treated assume imposing dimensions. As may be imagined, from what has been related, salt is the bugbear to the meal manufacturer and he is hard put to it to bring the figure down to one coinciding with trading requirements. What he desires is a simple, inexpensive process whereby the excessive salt may be eliminated without impairing the other virtues of the material in any way. Needless to say the discovery of such a preliminary treatment, meeting with his desires, will be received with unfeigned delight.
The suggestion has been advanced that the extraneous, or added, salt might be removed by subjecting the offal to a washing process. Undoubtedly, in this way, the desired end could be consummated to a certain degree, but, at the same time, there is the danger that the water would not only carry away the salt but would bear with it an appreciable proportion of the valuable nitrogenous matter which it is imperative should be retained. Unfortunately the salt is not completely free; it permeates the fish through and through and is held by the tissues. In view of the difficulty obtaining the manufacturer, as a rule, converts the heavily salted offal into fertilizer, but the enhanced salt content of the manure is regarded with certain misgivings even by the farmer.
This problem assumed its maximum intensity during the war. Huge quantities of barrelled herrings, destined for export to the countries upon the other side of the North Sea, were held up by the authorities, who feared that they might ultimately find their way into enemy countries. As there was no other outlet for this produce, the salted herrings not being regarded with favour here, these prohibited exports were ultimately thrown upon the hands of the meal manufacturers. Such an instance is decidedly abnormal, but as already mentioned the issue arises to a lesser degree under conditions of ordinary trading, and, consequently, demands a certain amount of attention.
The engineering firm specializing in plants for the exploitation of fish-scrap, to which I have alluded, is attacking this problem in its extensive well-equipped laboratories. The chemist favours the theory that the extraneous salt is capable of ready removal. He also realizes that the perfection of a simple and cheap process to this end will probably accomplish a further beneficial purpose. Traces of blood are occasionally encountered in the offal, and their presence tends to discolour the resultant meal. These might possibly be eliminated contemporaneously with the removal of the added salt.
While I have dealt somewhat at length with the artificial salt problem, as it were, it must not be imagined that it constitutes a constant or inseparable feature of the fish-waste by-product recovery industry: far from it. Herring offal, while extremely varied, falls into certain distinctive classes. There is the scrap, or waste, as well as condemned consignments and surplus incidental to the fresh fish trade, which during the recurring periods undoubtedly touches a very high figure. Then there is the kippering and curer offal, the yield of which is much more formidable and easily recoverable from accumulations at central plants where such work is carried out upon a large scale. The kippering refuse, of course, represents that incurred in the process of kippering the herring and, comprising for the most part the gut of the fish, presents a material having little body or substance.
This waste is difficult to treat except along the most modern lines. For this reason, in pre-war days it was exploited only to a limited degree. Yet its accumulation was enormous. At some plants the piles of such refuse, which were to be seen, contained several hundred tons. It failed to arouse earnest attention until the famine in oil burst upon us during hostilities. Then these dumps created interest because it was realized that such residue is rich in oil, enormous quantities of which were lying dormant. Forthwith plants were erected and equipped with the very latest types of machinery, which augurs well for the continuation of this manifestation of industrial enterprise in the future, owing to the great possibilities attending such reclamation.
Curer offal presents the heads and other waste portions as well as a material quantity of broken fish. This refuse has far more body, and so can be more readily treated to allow the valuable by-products to be recovered.
While we undoubtedly lagged behind our competitors in turning fish-scrap to commercial account it must not be imagined that we completely ignored this potential source of wealth. Nevertheless, for the most part, we were content to conduct operations along obsolete, inefficient lines, obtaining a return far below what might have been recorded. Had these plants been of modern design and equipment fish-waste reclamation would have advanced by leaps and bounds during the war period. As new machinery could not be obtained the main task was to adapt the existing plant to satisfy the demands of the authorities, which proved a task of distinct magnitude in itself, because the majority of the installations in operation possessed no striking feature other than that of being extremely wasteful from every point of view, offering, in fact, the most convincing illustrations of How not to do it!
In some works the practice was to cook the offal in steam-jacketed cookers. Now, when kippering offal, for instance, is being treated, the material, owing to lack of body, tends to coagulate at a certain stage in the process, a large volume of oil being liberated. This oil was skimmed and the residue, resembling a stiff mud, was removed to be wrapped in cloths for submission to extreme pressure in hydraulic presses. This action served to express a certain proportion of the oil remaining in the sludge. The compressed cakes were then transferred to a steam-jacketed drier to be reduced to meal.
This process, which has not yet been completely superseded, suffers from being involved and prolonged, although these do not constitute the most adverse features. The greatest objections to it are the retention of an appreciable quantity of oil in the residue, even after subjection to pressure, which accordingly becomes associated with the meal. The last-named being sold for fertilizing purposes, the presence of the oil is objectionable, while the product also suffers from being low in ammonia. Furthermore, while the sludge is being pressed a pronounced volume of watery liquid is driven out to be lost down the drains. Seeing that this liquid carries valuable manurial constituents its loss is greatly to be deplored, and materially lowers the fertilizing—and financial—value of the meal.
A variation of the foregoing process is made in other works, but it only tends towards greater inefficiency and heavier losses. In this case only the oil resulting from treatment of the material in the hydraulic press is recovered! A third system involves the passage of the pressed cakes through a continuous direct fire-heated drier. This method is particularly objectionable, not only from the offensive odours which are thrown off, but because the ammonia content of the waste undergoes serious depreciation, owing to the high temperature employed. In certain instances the herring offal is even charged into the apparatus without any attempt having been made to separate the oil! Such a system, as will readily be recognized, has nothing whatever to recommend it.
It is the observance of such indifferent and unscientific methods as the foregoing which has been responsible for the commercial possibilities of fish-scrap to be belittled. The oil is undoubtedly ignored intentionally because fish oils are generally held to be worthy of inclusion only among the lowest grades of industrial oils. Nevertheless, were a chemist to be attached to such wasteful plants much needed reforms could be promptly introduced, although it is highly probable that the plants would be scrapped instantly at his instigation because of their lamentable inefficiency.
But we need labour no longer in ignorance. Modern science, as represented by chemistry and engineering, is able to offer an equipment capable of extracting the whole of the oil content down to 1 per cent. In other words, 99 per cent. of the oil contained in the raw offal and scrap can be recovered both cheaply and easily. The loss of such a minute fraction as 1 per cent. undoubtedly represents a remarkable chemico-mechanical achievement.
The new process completely coincides with the dictates of contemporary science. The fundamental features are cooking the refuse under vacuum and the ultimate extraction of the oil by the aid of a suitable solvent such as benzine or other equally volatile spirit, or the benzine extraction system may be used from the very beginning, in a single and complete process. I have described this highly ingenious system in a previous chapter together with the system of operation followed. Obviously while the highest efficiency can only be derived from the installation of the complete plant, the processes being interrelated, the designer found it possible to modernize some of the old-fashioned and wasteful equipments to a very striking degree by the introduction of certain features to meet the exigencies of the moment.
A very convincing illustration of what can be achieved in this connection may be related. A firm specializing in the exploitation of herring offal desired to extend its plant, but was baulked in its intentions owing to the various restrictions which were in force. Accordingly it was compelled to consider the situation of how to derive more from the existing facilities without adding to them, at least only to an insignificant degree. At first sight this may seem to have presented a somewhat intricate, if not actually impossible, undertaking. Yet it was effected.
The modified arrangement introduced is decidedly interesting. The offal is cooked in the steam-jacketed cooker, as much as possible of the oil being skimmed from the mixture at the critical stage of coagulation. The sediment, or mud-like residue, is then transferred to an extractor where the remaining oil is recovered. This converts the residue into a still stiffer substance to be finished off in the ordinary steam-jacketed drier, instead of being completely dried in the extractor as originally designed.
This solution has proved to be exceedingly simple and eminently efficient. Although considerable handling is involved the extracting capacity of the plant has been nearly doubled. The advantages to be recorded are:—
(1) Ability to handle very much larger charges of waste when not reducing the material to a dry meal;
(2) Reduction of the raw material to the extent of the oil removed from the cookers;
(3) Reduction of the time required for the oil extraction by approximately 50 per cent.
Consequently, although the adapted, or modified, process entails the employment of extra labour, a result entirely due in this instance to the disposition of the plant in the works, the firm in question is able to obtain the value of the oil which would otherwise be lost, and which more than offsets the cost of the extra labour involved.
As a result of this development a review of the whole problem associated with the recovery of the by-products from fish-scrap was made. Cooking plant is not so expensive as extraction equipment. The question arose as to whether, or not, it would be possible, by the introduction of suitable automatic handling and other labour-saving devices, to obtain highly satisfactory results and efficiency from a combined plant. If this could be done then it would be comparatively easy and inexpensive to bring many of the existing recovery plants up to date to the advantage of the firms concerned. But the factor of capital outlay demands careful consideration, more especially in all matters pertaining to the utilization of waste products, because costs must be forced down to the irreducible minimum to show the necessary return to render them attractive. The result of close investigation of the issue led to the ultimate conclusion that the cost involved in connection with the cookers, extraction plant, and driers, in all probability, would be heavier than that incidental to the laying down of a straightforward extraction plant, pure and simple, to deal with the raw material and to turn it out as a dry product in one operation. One admitted advantage accrues from subjecting the material to preliminary cooking in steam-jacketed cookers. The oil thus obtained is somewhat better in quality than that derived by recourse to the solvent.
The modified or combined process above described enables one distinct end to be achieved. The objectionable and wasteful, as well as expensive pressing plant can be dispensed with. It also enables the ammonia content of the finished meal to be improved very noticeably, as the following analyses of typical meals produced by the respective processes prove somewhat conclusively.
|
Phosphates. Per cent. | Ammonia. Per cent. | |
|---|---|---|
| Pressing process | 6·5 | 7·5 |
| Combined process | 9·5 | 10·5 |
From the foregoing it will be seen that the enhanced yield of phosphates and ammonia fully justifies the additional expenditure incurred in regard to the plant and labour in connection with the extraction process, quite apart from the main duty of the plant. This is to extract all the oil, multiplying the usual yield many times over. Moreover, the quality of the oil-free meal obviously is superior.
With herring offal the extraction process by benzine ensures nothing being removed except the moisture and the oil. None of the liquor with its valuable ammonia is lost. Consequently the whole of the nitrogenous matter is combined with the resultant fertilizing meal.
To indicate the advantage of the benzine extraction process over the old-fashioned method of cooking, pressing, and subsequently drying the pressed cakes the accompanying analyses may prove informative. They refer to herring-mixed meal produced from kippering offal and damaged herring respectively.
Benzine Extraction Process.
| Per cent. | |
|---|---|
| Ammonia | 11·79 |
| Tribasic phosphate of lime | 9·66 |
| Oil | 1·10 |
Old Process.
| Per cent. | |
|---|---|
| Ammonia | 7·5 |
| Tribasic phosphate of lime | 6·5 |
| Oil | 15·5 |
Both essential fertilizing constituents are lower by the second than by the first process. This is not surprising in view of the fact that the subjection of the sludge to pressure drives off the watery liquor which is allowed to escape into the drains, notwithstanding that it carries a pronounced proportion of the ammonia and phosphate. Then it will be seen that the benzine process yields a manure carrying a less proportion of the oil which the farmer regards with misgiving, because the oil has been recovered for sale as such. In other words it will be seen that, under the old process, 14.4 per cent. of oil is allowed to pass to the land where it is not required, instead of to industry where it is in keen request. At the prices which prevailed during the war this represented a wastage of £7—$35—per ton of fertilizer.
Under the extraction or solvent process the meal is turned out in a perfectly dry condition, either for use as a poultry food or fertilizer, the recovery of the oil and drying being completed in the one operation. The method is not only the acme of simplicity but it assures the maximum yield of oil, only 1 per cent. being lost. It is also rapid, it being possible to treat a charge of 8 tons of offal in 10 to 12 hours in one unit.
White fish and general offal do not contain sufficient oil to warrant the expense of solvent extraction. If it should be desired to secure 99 per cent. of the slight proportion the offal carries then submission to the benzine process is imperative, for the simple reason that it cannot possibly be recovered in any other way. The modern system of drying such offal is by steam heat under vacuum or reduced pressure.
This process, to which I have also devoted adequate attention previously, not only enables a product of high quality to be obtained, enabling it to command an enhanced price in the market, but it also conduces towards the retention of the nitrogenous contents of the meal. From the fertilizing point of view this is the main end to be achieved. Colour of the meal is another factor which demands recognition. It plays a far more prominent part in the commercial value of the product than might possibly be conceived. The American drying system, operating along direct fire-heated lines, while efficient so far as it goes, namely, the elimination of the moisture, yields a darker coloured meal, owing to the high temperature which has to be used, while, of course, the nitrogen content is lowered by such practice.
The vacuum system has also proved highly efficient for the production of cod-liver oil. The temperature of rendering being low gives an oil of superior colour and odour, two factors of vital importance when the oil is being extracted for medicinal purposes. This is a somewhat delicate product to manufacture, especially when the livers are in a state of partial decomposition, because in this instance colour and sweet taste are particularly vital and difficult to assure.
I have referred to the circumstance that fish oils commercially rule low in the scale of industrial oils. But even fish oils possess one feature common to the highest grades of oils. They carry a certain proportion of glycerine. During the war the oil extracted from fish-scrap and offal was subjected to further treatment to swell our domestic supplies of this indispensable commodity. Even under normal conditions the reclamation of oil from fish waste to secure this glycerine offers further inducement to this phase of industry, and is also capable of considerable development.
Fish oils are also destined to play a more prominent part upon the table than has been the case heretofore. Their inherent fluidity and refusal to solidify, except at low temperatures, have hitherto reacted against their use in this direction. But the increasing demand for margarine as a substitute for butter, and the discovery of the hydrogenating process for eliminating the two outstanding defects, have invested the future for fish oils with additional significance, more especially as by the hardening process, as it is called, the pungent taste and aroma so distinctively of the sea and its inhabitants are removed. By virtue of this discovery fish oils are entering more and more extensively into the manufacture of margarine. The circumstance that they yield a product so closely allied to the genuine article from the dairy as to be difficult of detection, except by elaborate investigation and specialized methods, has served to accentuate this tendency.
We must derive far-reaching benefits from the utilization of our fish waste of every description—not only the offal arising from the preparation of the foodstuff for the table either in a fresh, kippered, cured, or canned condition, but the inedible contributions from the trawls. Those members of the sea’s vast and varied population, such as the whale, which are trapped for certain highly-prized portions of their bodies, must be fully exploited. For decades the whale fishery has been conducted along the most wickedly wasteful lines for which we are paying to-day. The Scandinavian whalers have been among the worst offenders in this respect, but they are now being compelled to turn from the folly of their ways and are endeavouring to utilize the whole of the carcases of their prizes.
So far as the average member of the community in these islands is concerned it is a moot point whether he, or she, has any tangible idea of the magnitude of the British sea-fishing industry. From the abundance and cheapness of the food a vague notion obtains that it must certainly be somewhat impressive. To obtain a graphic idea of its enormous proportions we must venture beyond the limits of domestic consumption and see how we help to feed the foreigner. Under normal conditions we ship approximately 1,250,000,000 lb. of fish every year, representing in value a round £7,750,000—$38,750,000. Of this huge total the humble herring represents nearly 1,120,000,000 lb., valued at approximately £6,000,000—$30,000,000. Of the total herring catch about one thousand million—1,000,000,000—lb. are subjected to curing or salting for the foreign markets, the value of those exports being £5,350,000—$26,750,000—so that the herring may truly be said to form the backbone of the British sea-fisheries. In these circumstances, and bearing in mind the huge quantities handled, the item of waste must necessarily loom heavy. It cannot be avoided. Therefore it behoves us to turn our harvest from the sea to the utmost advantage and to eliminate the item “loss” from our operations.
As the by-products from fish-waste become appreciated we may even proceed to the lengths pursued along the northern Atlantic seaboard of the United States. There the harvest of the menhaden, a fish totally unfit for human consumption, is carried out expressly for the oil obtainable therefrom. It has become a flourishing trade—one which is steadily expanding—special vessels being engaged in the fishery. While it is questionable if much fish of a comparative character and totally unsuited to the table is to be caught in the waters around our coasts, Farther Britain can point to a different state of things. Our Dominions should find it profitable to emulate the American example and exploit adjacent waters essentially for inedible fish to extract the oil and to convert the residue either into fertilizer or poultry food. There is a lucrative and developing market for all three commodities.
But the problem of to-day, in so far as it particularly affects Great Britain, is to solve the issue incidental to the glut catches, so as to prevent the wasteful distribution of the raw fish over the land as the easiest way out of a perplexing dilemma. If we can divert such unwanted hauls from the sea to reclamation factories, confident in the knowledge that there they will be worked up to their utmost in the interests of commerce, we shall be able to record an industrial and economic achievement of incalculable consequence to ourselves. To dump newly-caught fish upon the land merely because it cannot be absorbed by the community as a foodstuff constitutes one of the most deplorably wasteful, if not actually criminally extravagant, charges ever levelled against contemporary civilization.
CHAPTER VII
WINNING WEALTH FROM SLAUGHTER-HOUSE OFFAL, CONDEMNED MEAT BONES, AND BLOOD
Undoubtedly one of the wonders of civilization is the ability to preserve and transport such a readily perishable foodstuff as meat in a chilled and frozen condition for an indefinite period of time. By this means cattle roaming the extensive ranches of North and South America, Australia and New Zealand, are rendered available in a fresh form for presentation upon the tables of Britain to supplement the severely limited domestic supplies. During recent years the growth of this traffic has been remarkable, and it will not be long before we touch the million-tons-a-year mark for imported beef, mutton, pork, exclusive of ham and bacon.
Yet the development of this trade has reacted directly against our own interests. The dispatch of the carcases to these islands in the dressed condition has deprived, and still is depriving us, of much valuable raw material to which we should have access were we to raise sufficient meat to satisfy our own needs. This is the exploitation of the offal or inedible portions of the beast, the products obtained from which are not only of marked intrinsic value, but enter into so many other and varied industries. From this statement it must not be imagined that we are entirely prevented from establishing a meat-waste industry, since our domestic killing trade is of distinct significance and is supplemented to a certain degree by the “home-killed” business. The latter, as is well known, represents the shipment of cattle to this country in the live condition to be slaughtered upon landing.
In these circumstances it would be perfectly feasible for us to establish the meat residue exploitation industry upon a comprehensive scale but for the fact that existing conditions are decisively adverse, although we could scarcely aspire to attain the magnitude and operations of the huge meat-packing plants of Chicago. It is extremely doubtful if we really appreciate the possibilities of this business, and, because of our ignorance, we, as a nation, are the losers. We have permitted the local or territorial slaughter of cattle to be carried to an extreme length. The municipal abattoir constitutes the feature of the slaughtering trade of these islands, and although this practice was introduced to overcome the shortcomings of the private slaughter-house, which were many, and to ensure killing and dressing animals under the most hygienic and scientific conditions, yet it is a matter for serious consideration as to whether the municipal practice should not be superseded by a centralized system, acting under State or private control, the latter for preference, so as to give full rein to the display of initiative.
There is no logical reason why the slaughter of domestic cattle should not be conducted at a central point. Such a plant conducted along the lines practised at Chicago would be of far-reaching benefit to the community. Supervision would be more effective, simpler and less expensive, inasmuch as it would be possible to dispense with the multiplicity of officials now obtaining—another form of waste. It would also enable the residues from the trade to be turned to utilitarian advantage along the most economic and profitable lines, owing to their very bulk. A visit to the Chicago stockyards brings home very forcibly the magnitude of this trade and the wealth to be won from the residues which accrue. It has been declared, and with considerable truth, that at the American stockyards the development of the by-products is every whit as extensive and as important as the preparation of the ostensible staple product. It is actually more profitable, and brings in as great if not greater revenue.
The arguments which would be levelled against the establishment of a central meat-packing plant in this country are many and obvious. In the first place full voice would be given to the apparent futility of sending a live animal from 20 to 600 or 700 miles merely to be killed, and to return the dressed carcase to be sold. Superficially it does appear to be a senseless employment of transport and to incur needless expense. Yet such a practice is followed upon the North American continent. Animals are shipped alive over hundreds of miles to be killed and returned to the point where they were bought, in the form of dressed meat ready for consumption. But the argument is fatuous. Centralized slaughtering facilities secure equitable distribution, as well as prompt movement, since the trade is sufficiently heavy to demand the inauguration of a special handling and transportation system. Then again such a practice allows bulk shipment combined with long haulage, two essential conditions to economic transportation. If the method were practised in these islands, not only would it be possible to take full advantage of the latest manifestations of science in so far as it affected the industry, but it would enable the residues forthcoming in enormous quantities to be treated upon the spot in the reclamation plant forming an integral part of the stockyard equipment. The revenue derived from the disposal of the by-products rendered available in a commercial form would not only more than offset the charges incurred concerning transportation, but would tend towards the primary product—the meat—being sold at a lower figure to the public.
Under the present system of local killing much of the offal escapes reclamatory treatment for the simple reason that the quantity forthcoming is so limited as not to be deemed worthy of exploitation, or else is subjected to obsolete or inefficient by-product recovery methods. In many instances it is sold to a contractor who endeavours to conduct bulk treatment upon a reduced scale, paying a relatively low price for the refuse and one quite disproportionate to its true value. In some instances the contractor does not attempt to carry out by-product recovery, but merely acts as a middleman, dispatching the various residues to the quarters where he knows they will be taken in hand to be worked up.
During the past few years the science of winning wealth from slaughter-house offal of every description has made enormous strides, effort having been concentrated upon the recovery of the very utmost yield of by-products for the simple reason that the demand therefor is exceedingly keen, while prices are necessarily attractive. This applies particularly to the fats, the value of which ranges up to as much as £50 per ton, according to grade, although other commodities simultaneously secured, such as meal for cattle-feeding and fertilizers, are able to command equally impressive prices. A graphic idea of the degree to which this science has been advanced is obvious from the dimensions, comprehensiveness and modernity of the by-product installations which have been laid down as adjuncts to the mammoth cattle-killing plants in various parts of the world, the majority of which, as I have pointed out in a previous chapter, are of British origin, design and construction, and many of which have been, and still are being, supplied from this country. Surely it is somewhat anomalous that other countries should come to us for the latest expressions of ingenuity and invention in this province when we are unable to point to a single pretentious plant in this country! At the same time it is distinctly gratifying to learn that if Britain cannot display sufficient imagination or commercial acumen to use plants of this character, she certainly can build them, and is not only able to keep well astride of the times, but is fertile in thought concerning a highly specialized ramification of industry.
As a matter of fact it may come somewhat of a surprise to learn that British thought is far in advance of American practise, as manifested by the stockyards at Chicago in regard to the utilization of appliances and process for the treatment of meat residues. The interests at the mammoth plant were approached with the latest British development in this line—the solvent extraction process described in a previous chapter—it being recognized that its introduction to the American stockyards would apply the seal of highest approval to the invention and represent a great achievement for the British interests which had evolved and perfected it. It possessed every virtue likely to make appeal, more particularly the means of enabling the American packers to add to their already huge profits. The process was investigated, and its superiority over the methods in vogue was frankly conceded. But the Chicago industry firmly declined to embrace the invention, not from feelings of hostility, but because the interests concerned had developed their own plant along lines, and to a degree which would not readily permit a revolution. To have introduced the new idea would have been to disorganize the whole business of by-product reclamation and would have demanded the revision of methods, knowledge, practice, and routine. Questions of cost did not enter into the issue at all. The packers merely declined to disturb the system they had standardized and had carried to such a level of perfection.
But the packers were not wholly opposed to progress. Although not willing to introduce the system into their plants, they were quite ready to turn over their wastes, after they had extracted as much as they could of material value therefrom under their system, to the British interests. The inventors accepted the proposal, and to-day one may witness the strange and anomalous spectacle of British interests taking over the residues from residues from the packing plants for further treatment, and conducting the unusual method of trading to their financial profit. It was confidence in the superiority of the new idea which brought such signal success. Yet this exploitation of wastes from wastes is not peculiar to Chicago. It is even being practised to a limited degree in these islands, which suffices to prove that certain quarters are fully cognizant of the wealth awaiting to be won from waste, and that it pays to conduct the process to the recovery of the uttermost retrievable ounce even from such material.
Certain of our municipalities, fully alive to the value of the waste incidental to the operations of their abattoirs, are sparing no effort to utilize such material to the full. However, in many instances, their enterprise is thwarted by the circumstance that the butchers making avail of the Corporation facilities extended, possess certain vested interests which must be honoured. Accordingly it is not possible to conduct reclamation to such limits as would be attainable were methods comparable with those prevailing at the Chicago stockyards in operation. To be able to extract the utmost from the refuse it is imperative that the authorities should be given unrestricted control of the animal, preferably absolute ownership. This is the reason why the big private packing plants are able to achieve such eminent success. They purchase the live animals, and consequently are free to exploit them in accordance with the principles they have elaborated. Nevertheless, despite the difficulties obtaining, much good work is being accomplished in British circles concerning abattoir waste exploitation.
The case of Edinburgh may be cited as an illustration. I purposely select the Scottish city for the reason that—so far as municipalities are concerned—it is possessed of one of the most up-to-date installations in the country, is enterprising, and serves to bring home how vested interests can mar a record of possible achievement by restrictive action. The blood is sold to a contractor, who, however, is compelled to sell back to the meat trade such quantities of this article as may be required. A proportion of the offal is also sold by the meat trade.
Diseased meat, condemned as unfit for human consumption, is treated by the authorities in the Scott plant which they have acquired. The waste is thoroughly sterilized by steam, the residuals, comprising non-edible tallow, meat fibre and bones being sold. The plant cost £600—$3,000. The working costs may be set down at approximately £200—$1,000—per annum, while the income from the sale of the uncertain quantities of meat of which disposal is made averages about £430—$2,150—per year. The hoofs and spurs of the feet of cattle, the parings of ox-feet, a small proportion of waste offal, and the manure originating in the slaughter-house, are sold by the Corporation. The sum derived from these sources during the 1917-18 financial year amounted to £533 5s.—$2,666.25—while the revenue from the sale of blood was £437 11s.—$2,187.75. All things considered it must be conceded that the by-products resulting from the operation of the slaughter-house by the Corporation of the Scottish city are fully utilized, although the defects arising from divided responsibility for the development and disposal of the wastes are obvious.
Divided interests exert another reactive influence. The public authorities are debarred from making full avail of the latest improvement in the art and craft of waste recovery. For instance, although the leading abattoirs of these islands have acquired reasonably up-to-date plants, they are all operated upon the open steam principle, with and without vacuum. The method, while satisfactory so far as it goes, does not offer the means of securing the utmost from the available material. But the authorities do not feel justified in going to the expense of acquiring the latest appliances for the prosecution of the work of reclamation, an attitude which is perfectly explicable in the circumstances.
Of course, the community suffers, though imperceptibly. The plants in question allow a certain proportion of waste to be lost which in the course of the year represents an imposing figure. Furthermore, the whole, or the greater part, of the “stick liquor” or gelatinous liquid thrown off during the fat reclamation process is lost, being allowed to escape down the drains. The abandonment of the stick liquor is regrettable because it constitutes a waste capable of being treated with profit, as I explain later. But it is doubtful whether the average municipal plant, even if it had absolutely unfettered control of all the waste products arising from the slaughter of cattle for food, would be in the position to treat the stick liquor to commercial advantage. An evaporative plant would have to be incorporated to concentrate the gelatinous substance to the desired density, and only in a few instances would the quantity of material treated be adequate to render the utilization of the stick liquor profitable. But this constitutes an additional argument for centralized meat packing and offal exploitation in these islands.
Accordingly effort is exclusively confined to the recovery of the grease. I have described the outstanding features of the vacuum system in a previous chapter, to which I would refer the reader desiring enlightenment in connection therewith. The grease is drawn off by a special skimming device into a fat tank to be clarified. Then it is run into barrels or other suitable receptacles for transport. It is scarcely necessary to point out that the grease and tallow thus obtained from condemned meat and other offal, although thoroughly sterilized in the rendering process, are graded only as fit for the manufacture of soap and other articles of utility, as distinct from products of edible importance.
The term “offal” in its application to meat residues is somewhat ambiguous. It not only comprises material coinciding with the general interpretation of the term, but certain portions of the animal which are really suited to the preparation of foodstuffs for the table. Consequently all grease recovered from the digester is not necessarily adapted to manufacturing purposes only. In these circumstances it is necessary to grade the fat before treatment, the fresh fat, which is quite suitable for yielding material adapted to the preparation of margarine, for instance, being kept distinct from the lower grades which cannot possibly be classed as edible. Selection and separation treatment of the two grades—edible and inedible—are profitable because, while both are in keen demand, it is the former which is able to command the higher market figure. But when edible fats are sought it is preferable to employ the steam-jacketed digester because the fat thus obtained, from the fact that the steam is not brought into contact with the material during the cooking process, is of enhanced quality, being sweeter, while all the natural properties of the fat are retained for reasons already set forth.
Although, therefore, the most popular system in vogue for reclaiming fat from slaughter-house residues is exposed to criticism, owing to what may be described as lack of efficiency in operation due to the recovery of the fat not being as high as it might be, it appears to meet the conditions of the average municipal abattoir. City and borough corporations, unlike private organizations, are not in the position to scrap an existing plant for one which is of later date and greater efficiency, because there is not the same incentive to reap the utmost benefits attainable as prevails under private conditions where the full brunt of competition is encountered. Of course, the initiative of corporations is just as pronounced as that of private firms and individuals, but it is the exception rather than the rule. Furthermore, the municipality is not in the position to run a plant under full load, or even at a uniform pressure the whole time. It is only able to handle the waste as it accumulates during its own abattoir operations. On the other hand, the private exploiter can acquire a plant of such capacity as to cope with the steady flow of material from the slaughter-houses, thereby keeping the by-product recovery installation working steadily at a point approaching its productive limits.
Nevertheless, the results achieved with the prevailing type of plant afford interesting reading, although it is somewhat misleading to cite them. The material varies so widely both in quantity and quality, while the ultimate fat-yield likewise fluctuates markedly. A fat bullock which has been condemned would naturally be expected to furnish a good contribution of fat. On the other hand, only a low percentage could reasonably be anticipated from a lean cow. In these circumstances a comparison without full details concerning the material handled is difficult. The figures available may be set down as being representative, though they should be accepted as being typical rather than empirical.
A consignment of condemned meat, weighing 2,240 lb., was placed in the digester. The quantities of the respective materials recovered were:—
| Lb. | Per cent. | ||
|---|---|---|---|
| Tallow | 336 | or | 15 |
| Fibrine or meat-meal | 392-428 | or | 17¹⁄₂-20 |
| Bone-meal | 280-336 | or | 12¹⁄₂-15 |
In another instance a somewhat heavier consignment of condemned meat was committed to the recovery plant. Its composition was:—
| Lb. | |
|---|---|
| Beef | 84,000 |
| Pork | 1,607 |
| Mutton | 818 |
| Veal | 354 |
| Offal | 20,370 |
| Total | 107,149 |
The tallow yield was 21,638 lb., or 20 per cent. of the total volume passed through the digester. Pronounced quantities of the fibrine and bone-meal were also secured. But the tallow yield alone should serve to convince even the most sceptical that it pays to submit condemned meat and slaughter-house refuse to a process of by-product recovery. It was not so many years ago that such valuable waste met with an untimely end—incineration in the destructor as the most effective and economical means for its disposal. Had this practice been followed in the instance under review the authorities would have allowed material worth, according to current market quotations, at least £500—$2,500—to vanish up the chimney in preference to the display of a little exertion and knowledge to secure what is in such wide and urgent request—the fat.
While the average organization, either municipal or private, conducts operations upon too limited a scale to deal with the gelatinous or “stick liquor,” the large establishments, on the other hand, are confronted with such immense quantities thereof as to render its further treatment justifiable and profitable. But the liquid is extremely thin or weak, that is low in the gelatinous constituent in its crude form, and so requires to be concentrated. To effect this at the lowest cost it should be passed through the Scott multiple effect vacuum evaporators. These are heated by the exhaust steam. In this form of evaporator the heating effect of the steam is multiplied in several stages, thus doing so many times more work for one supply of fuel as compared with a simple evaporator. The evaporation proceeds progressively and continuously, the liquor leaving the evaporator at a high degree of concentration owing to the water having been driven off. The gelatinous residue accruing from this treatment may be blended with the fibrine or meat-meal, thereby enhancing the value of the latter, which thus becomes enriched with ammonia and protein to an appreciable degree.
For some reason or other the treatment of the “stick liquor” has not aroused the measure of serious attention in these islands which it deserves. While, of course, greater results are attainable from treatment of the liquid upon a huge scale, yet relatively small quantities can be exploited very profitably, because the jelly finds an attractive market as crude tub size, the demand for which to-day is somewhat keen and firm. Doubtless hesitation to turn the stick liquor to economic account is due to lack of knowledge concerning the improvements in the rendering process, and the difficulty encountered in this direction in the past. Under the old system, where the practice was to evaporate these liquors in open vessels, the nuisance created constituted the insurmountable obstacle. The work could not be carried out without polluting the whole neighbourhood. With the Scott evaporator, however, no more nuisance is created in concentrating the offensive liquor than attends the exploitation of noisome fats by the patent digesting process, for the simple reasons that the work is conducted in closed vessels, and all obnoxious vapours thrown off during the treatment are led to the furnace to be consumed, escape of the free gases into the air being rendered totally impossible.
British waste exploiters are beginning to appreciate the advantages of the closed evaporative system, and in their determination to secure every retrievable ounce of commercially valuable products from waste are now devoting greater attention to the stick liquor. The policy is one which cannot fail to pay so long as it is conducted along the correct lines such as I have indicated.
Before leaving the question of the stick liquor it is curious to remark how some firms, while complimenting themselves upon the assiduity and diligence with which they treat their wastes, are yet likely to allow a certain material, and one which is of distinct value to their own businesses, to slip through their fingers merely from lack of knowledge. The abandonment of the stick liquor arising from the digestive treatment of meat-waste represents an interesting example of such inadvertence.
Many manufacturers dealing with meat products have installed a fat-recovery system for the treatment of their waste upon the spot, the primary idea being to secure the good edible fat for re-use in connection with their own processes. Furthermore, from their association with the cooked-meat trade they find it necessary to absorb material quantities of gelatine to carry out the glazing work in the preparation of brawn, pies and other dainties. They purchase the crude gelatine for the purpose, submitting it to careful treatments to adapt it to their varying requirements. Yet, if they but knew it, they have no need to spend a single penny—or cent—upon gelatine wherewith to conduct the final appetizing touches to their wares. They have as much of this raw material as they can possibly require immediately to hand in the stick liquor, and which, in the majority of instances, they allow to escape.
As a matter of fact this liquid residue is far preferable to the commercial gelatine which they buy for glazing purposes. They need only to attach an evaporator to their recovery plant to bring about its concentration. But this is not the only advantage. The gelatine has to be of varying densities or strengths according to its precise application. When they have their own evaporator this desideratum is readily fulfilled. It is only necessary to draw off the material from the evaporators when it has reached the requisite degree of concentration for immediate use. Not only is appreciable time saved, but the up-to-date firms are better off in pocket because they are utilizing a waste for which otherwise they would have to employ a purchased commodity. Even if they conduct concentration to the absolute it does not matter; the article is then recovered in the form of an edible jelly. This can be clarified, if desired, to be sold as such, or it can be sold to fellow-manufacturers who do not happen to have such a plant. Failing such disposal there is no difficulty in selling the jellied mass as tub size.
In a previous chapter I have described the reclamation process practised by the military authorities in connection with bones arising from the cutting-up of meat for the army, as well as those recovered from the swill-tubs. As indicated, however, exploitation is conducted only to a certain point, when the bones are handed over to the degreasers. It is then that the true recovery of the commercial constituents of the bone commences. The bone is an invaluable friend to the human race as an article of commerce, though it is to be feared that what may be described as the “bone tree” is only imperfectly understood. Its far-reaching value as a fertilizer is certainly appreciated, but this really represents the final application of the article, and may be said to be the only remaining field of utility for the ultimate residue of a residue. Bones enter into a wide range of industrial and manufacturing operations. For this reason they should be carefully gathered and retained for surrender to recognized collecting mediums rather than suffer abandonment or destruction.
The housewife is prone to regard them as mere waste when she has extracted the utmost recoverable value therefrom in the kitchen. She may possibly retain them until the itinerant specialist in this commodity, to wit, the rag-and-bone man, comes round, in which event it is sure to be sped once more on a journey of industrial exploitation. But at least one-third of the bones which enter the households of Britain escape reclamation. They are wantonly wasted, and it is to be feared that the kitchen stove is mainly responsible for this loss. The volume of bones which should be forthcoming from domestic circles in Great Britain, were the dictates of thrift religiously followed, is scarcely appreciated, but it is estimated that the supply should be at least 100 tons per week from every million members of the population.
In these islands the bones are divided into two broad classes. The one division, comprising what is known as “green” (raw) bones, represents those collected from butchers’ shops, bacon-cutting works, and other similar sources. The second class, defined as “streeters,” include those forthcoming from the recognized collectors of such waste, hotels, restaurants, clubs, and private houses, and are those which have been passed through one or more cooking processes.
In the case of green bones it is customary to digest them, when really fresh, with open steam to recover the edible fat. Shank and marrow bones, as distinct from rough bones, are also able to yield a certain proportion of edible fat, and after having been digested or boiled still retain a considerable percentage of grease which it pays to extract. Consequently these, together with a certain quantity of less fresh green bones, and the streeters, are then passed through the benzine extractor to be degreased down to 1 per cent.
The shank and marrow bones are sawn up, the centre sections being selected for the production of such useful articles as knife and fork handles, buttons, and other utilitarian commodities for which their composition renders them eminently suitable. The ends or knuckles are degreased by submission to the solvent extraction process, and then, in some works, are subjected to further chemical treatment, which is somewhat elaborate, to be converted into baking-powder.
Otherwise the bones, after being degreased, are passed through other processes for the extraction of their gelatinous constituent. This is secured in the form of a liquor which is evaporated in vacuo to a jelly. The last-named is cooled into cakes and then dried on nets, or, if preferred, the liquor may be dried direct into glue-powder. By following a more complicated process gelatine can also be prepared from the degreased bones. But the gelatine thus obtained does not compare in quality with that extracted from skins. The degelatinizing process is not always followed, for the reason that some makers prefer to produce the higher quality bone-meal which is procurable from non-degelatinized bone. Obviously, however, the more profitable and economic procedure is to pass the bones through an associated glue plant.
The ultimate residue, whether degelatinised or not, is a bone-meal which constitutes the well-known fertilizer. The bone-meal, to be of the utmost feeding value to the soil, should carry little or no fat. At the same time, however, it should be rich in ammonia and phosphoric acid or superphosphate, which is determined in terms of tribasic phosphate of lime. To show how these requirements can be adequately fulfilled by submitting the raw waste to a complete recovery process, such as I have described, an analysis of a typical bone-meal produced from degreased bones—degreased by the benzine extraction process—but which have not been degelatinized, is given thus:—
| Per cent. | |
|---|---|
| Tribasic phosphate of lime | 46·60 |
| Nitrogen, 6·07 per cent. = ammonia | 7·37 |
| Moisture | 8·04 |
| Fat | 1 |
The high percentage of ammonia, namely 7·37 per cent., deserves especial notice inasmuch as it compares with a yield of 4·5 per cent., which is the average figure recorded with fertilizing meal obtained from steamed bones. It may possibly come as a surprise to many to learn that it is the proportion of the nitrogenous content, as represented by the ammonia, rather than the phosphoric acid content, which really determines the commercial value of this manure. The higher the figure to which the ammonia figure can be forced the more attractive the price which the fertilizer will command upon the market. Thus, under normal conditions, every 1 per cent. rise in the ammonia constituent will increase the price of the bone-meal by 14s.—$3.50. On the other hand, a 1 per cent. increase in the proportion of superphosphate only serves to increase the price of the meal by 11d. to 1s. 2d.—22 to 28 cents.
The grease obtainable from green bones varies somewhat. It is affected to a marked degree by the skill and care with which the butcher wields his knife. If the bone should be scraped very clean and carefully, naturally the bulk of the attached fat is removed. But an average collection of green bones will yield about 15 per cent., or 360 lb., of fat per ton of bones treated, while the dry bone-meal will range from 1,286 to 1,344 lb. Bones which have been collected from marine store dealers and rag-and-bone merchants are not so liberal in fat yield. The repeated cooking to which they have been subjected in connection with the preparation of dishes for the table relieves them of approximately 5 per cent. of the fat which they originally carried, i.e. in the raw condition. Consequently, degreasing only enables about 10 per cent., or 250 lb., of fat to be recovered from every ton of bones treated. In this instance the bone-meal yield may be set down at 1,568 to 1,680 lb. per ton of bones. The grease remaining in the meal varies from 0·5 to 1 per cent.
As may logically be supposed, cattle-slaughtering for food produces large quantities of blood. This is an extremely valuable residue, and so is carefully collected in suitable vessels. It is then transferred to shallow receptacles and permitted to stand for a time. Blood is composed of two fundamental constituents—the serum and the clot respectively. The former, which is the albumen, is the glutinous-like, yellowish liquid which comes to the surface, the clot settling to form as it were a sediment. The serum is recovered by skimming with a suitable device, to be distributed in extremely thin layers, applied with a brush, to dry. Such a careful procedure is imperative owing to the difficulty of drying out albumen. When dry the blood-albumen is peeled in the form of thin flakes. Its applications are numerous, one of the most important being its employment for the clarification of sugar. The clot is likewise secured to be sent to the special plant, where it is also dried.
It is common knowledge that blood constitutes a magnificent fertilizer, and this is the purpose to which the dried clot is applied. In a well-designed vacuum drying plant, such as the Scott, which has been designed especially to treat such residue, the efficiency is high. The yield from the clot may be said to range from 25 to 30 per cent.—560 to 672 lb.—per ton of raw clot treated, and is recovered in the form of a rich red dry powder.
One great objection levelled against the recovery of the blood for fertilizing purposes has been the very offensive odour which is thrown off during the drying operation. But when the task is conducted under the vacuum system no such nuisance is created, because the obnoxious gases are led to the fire to suffer combustion. In dryers of the conventional type, in which the noxious gases are removed by the aid of an exhausting fan, or suffer discharge into the chimney, the process does represent an intolerable nuisance to the neighbourhood, because there is nothing to prevent the pollution of the atmosphere. Furthermore, and this is the most important point to remember, by drying the blood under the vacuum system the ammonia content of the waste, which normally is high, can be preserved to the full, owing to the drying operation being carried out at a much lower temperature than is incidental to the usual practice.
Dried blood appeals to the farmer for the nourishment of his land essentially because of its pronounced proportion of nitrogen or ammonia. Consequently it is incumbent to keep this figure as high as possible and thus secure the advantages of market quotation. Naturally the percentage thereof in the resultant meal will vary strikingly according to the drying process practised. Ammonia is an exceedingly volatile ingredient, its tendency to escape being accentuated as the temperature employed is increased. It is only by keeping the heat factor at a low level consistent with the complete fulfilment of the desired operation, that the ammonia can be retained. Under the vacuum system this end is assured, owing to the low boiling-point due to the reduced pressure or vacuum. A typical analysis of vacuum-dried clot blood may be cited:—
| Per cent. | |
|---|---|
| Moisture | 9 |
| Mineral matter | 1·61 |
| Nitrogen | 14·02 |
| ⤷ = ammonia | 17·02 |
In cases where the albumen is not required separately the whole blood is dried without being separated or “clotted.”
It is obvious from what I have related, that the recovery of by-products from what has always been regarded as waste of a most repulsive character, that is from the popular point of view, can be turned to striking commercial and industrial account. Similarly it is only too apparent that such by-product reclamation as is possible demands a plant of the most complete description, to ensure all and every substance of utilitarian value being secured along the most efficient lines and to the uttermost ounce.
The day has gone when the crude methods which sufficed to satisfy individual or specific requirements should be continued. To endeavour to render it profitable to recover but one article out of many which are reclaimable simultaneously, and for the expenditure of only a little more effort, time and money, may be compared with mining for one hundred carat diamonds and allowing all those of lesser weight to fall back into the earth.
CHAPTER VIII
TURNING WASTES INTO PAPER
Paper has been described as the World’s Friend. Truly the application is apt, when we recall the varied, and, in some instances, almost incredible uses to which it is put, from carpets to boxes, wheels of infinite variety to artificial flowers, table linen to boards. Little wonder, therefore, that we have come to regard it as indispensable to our everyday social and industrial existence. Being cheap, abundant and easy to obtain, is it surprising that we became extravagant in its use? We scarcely ever hesitate to bestow even a passing thought as to where, and how, we get it. We talk glibly of “imported” without pausing a moment to reflect upon the real significance of the expression. It was not until war burst upon us to deliver its many disconcerting jolts that we came to our senses, and were then compelled to acknowledge that while paper may be a most tractable servant it is certainly a tyrannous master.
How many people would credit the statement that paper could exercise any influence upon the cost of living? Not one in a thousand it is safe to hazard. But let us reflect. In the days when paper or cardboard was forthcoming in plenty the tradesman never contemplated for a moment the suggestion that he should be sparing in his use of the commodity, or even saddle his customer with the cost of this indispensable wrapping material. What if a sheet of brown paper cost a farthing—half a cent—or paper bags could be secured for ten a penny (2 cents)? The expense was so trivial as to be insignificant. He could readily shoulder it without any financial detriment to himself. But when that sheet of paper cost approximately 1³⁄₄d.—3¹⁄₂ cents—or when the bag involved an outlay of 1¹⁄₂d.—3 cents—the tradesman, turning over in his mind the huge quantities he would be compelled to provide during the business of the day, regarded the whole question in a different spirit. He declined to bear the burden, and so promptly passed it on to the customer.
To grasp the paper situation as it affects this island kingdom we must hark back to the glorious days preceding 1914. We made paper upon a relatively extensive scale in our own mills, and the industry flourished amazingly. But to what extent did indigenous materials enter into the composition of the article? Barely 10 per cent. We preferred to buy 90 per cent. of our raw materials from foreign mills brought into existence for this especial purpose, and, be it remarked en passant, the foreigner found it highly lucrative to trade upon our disinclination to prepare the products ourselves.
A British firm, which had built huge mills in Scandinavia for the preparation of the essential raw material, disposed of its financial interests to a foreign concern. The bargain was settled for a round £7,000,000—$35,000,000! Surely this transaction suffices to demonstrate that there is big money to be made preparing paper pulp, as the raw material is called, for British paper mills. The fact that in pre-war days we imported a round 2,000,000 tons of pulp and paper during the course of the year serves to convey some idea of the magnitude of the industry, and the extent to which this country became dependent upon foreign sources of supply.
One hundred years ago, or even less, the British paper-making industry was a staple. The paper was British made from British materials. In the light of this knowledge one may well ask why, and how, we allowed this profitable trade to slip through our fingers? The cause was not far to seek. Our old pugnacious friend the wasp was primarily responsible for the passing of this British industry. He, from his paper-making prowess in the fabrication of his wonderful nest, set certain imaginative men thinking hard. If this humble insect could contrive such a remarkably tough and stout paper for home-building purposes from wood surely it was not beyond the wit of men, with the bewildering array of mechanical and chemical handmaids at his elbow, to do likewise!
Accordingly the observant, fertile, and patient minds went to work. Within a short time they not only succeeded in imitating the wasp, but evolved such a simple process in the doing of it as to make an irresistible appeal to commerce. Incidentally while this one line of investigation, the purely mechanical, was being pursued other equally brilliant minds were perfecting a second means of achieving a similar end by mechanical-chemical agency. In this manner commerce became equipped with two efficient means for the reduction of trees into paper, and at such a low figure as to render the conventional competitive methods impossible, at least for the cheapest grades of paper, such as are employed for our newspapers, popular periodicals, and low-priced books.
To reap the rich rewards which invention dangled before commerce only two fundamental requirements had to be fulfilled. The one was ample cheap power in close proximity to virtually inexhaustible supplies of the essential material, namely soft woods, which constituted the second factor. Scandinavia held unrivalled attractions in this respect. Accordingly the princes of the paper-making industry trekked to Norway and Sweden, to convenient points amid the endless reaches of forest, and there planted huge mills beside waterfalls and swiftly running rivers, which were harnessed to provide the cheap power which hydro-electric energy offered. The outlook was additionally alluring from the circumstance that these mills, metaphorically speaking, could be established within the proverbial stone’s throw of the biggest and most promising markets of the world.
So Scandinavia succeeded in building up a rich monopoly which experienced continuous prosperity until a few years ago. Then similar activity became manifest in certain corners of Farther Britain, notably in Newfoundland, Eastern Canada, and British Columbia, where, owing to the prevailing climatic conditions favouring huge reserves of suitable forests, ribbed with abundant water power, a bold bid was made, not only for the European but the American markets as well. For the first time in its history the Scandinavian interests were brought full tilt against powerful competition.
With the advent of the halfpenny newspaper, the popular periodical, and the cheap edition of a favourite author, all of which depend upon mammoth circulations for their financial successes, the wood-pulp industry received a tremendous boom. In 1913 British imports from Scandinavia aggregated 756,252 tons valued at £3,533,509—$17,667,545. Germany, attracted by the glamour of the commercial possibilities held out in this direction, essayed to participate in the boom, her exports of pulp to these islands during the above-mentioned year reaching 40,972 tons worth £330,456—$1,697,280. In comparison with the figure for Scandinavia the Teuton contribution may appear small, but it must not be forgotten that this represented a 50 per cent. increase in Germany’s favour within two years. During the year in question Canada and Newfoundland also swelled the home market, the aggregate of pulp and paper accepted from their mills by Britain being 119,742 tons valued at £279,374—$1,396,870.
Then came the war, and this upset the upward tendency of the foreign manufacturers to an alarming degree, as well as causing distinct stringency among ourselves. Germany was knocked out of the market in one blow, while the demand for shipping likewise extinguished the Canadian contributions. Then came the appointment of a Controller to adjust the Scandinavian situation, and official action in regard to restrictions, which were admittedly severe, threw the Scandinavian industry all sixes and sevens. Some idea of the degree to which the imports of paper and pulp from Scandinavia were hit may be gathered from the figures for 1918—390,000 tons as compared with the pre-war supply of 2,000,000 tons, representing a fall of 82 per cent.
The situation at home assumed an ominous aspect. Cutting off imports reduced supplies to a figure hopelessly below demand. The issue was further aggravated from the circumstance that the domestic industry had not been advanced to the position where it could take up the producing reins to make up the deficiency. The output from British mills during 1918 only approximately equalled the importation for the year, and was less than double the figure at which it stood five years before, which was about 200,000 tons.
In these circumstances the Controller was called upon to make a round 700,000 tons of paper go as far as had 2,000,000 in pre-war days. As a matter of fact the last-named figure was short of the mark, for the simple reason that sources of consumption, and heavy ones at that, which had been non-existent five years previously had sprung up and were in the full blaze of activity. I refer to the various Government departments created as a direct result of the war.
Where does all the paper go? To the lay mind this question appears impossible of a comprehensive answer. He concedes that the publishing and commercial worlds, from the magnitude of their operations, must absorb colossal quantities, but this reflection does not bring complete comfort. During the war period it was not so difficult to reduce the apparent enigma to simple explanation. The Stationery Office devoured paper to the extent of 57,000 tons a year. The Ministry of Munitions absorbed 1,000 tons a week in the actual manufacture of missiles, one use being the substitution of aluminium by paper for filling the tips of bullets, while fuse cylinders were also contrived from paper instead of from tin. The Ministry of Food called for 400 to 500 tons of paper to provide the cards for sugar, meat and butter rations, while the issuance of the subsequent ration books ran away with another 750 tons. The War Office was probably the heaviest consumer, from the simple fact that all jams and preserves issued to the army, and packed in one-pound consignments, were served in paper cartons instead of tins. Seeing that the quantities of jams issued in this manner ran into millions, the consumption of paper for the containers was stupendous. Such zealous and ingenious recourse to paper instead of metals for such purposes was readily explicable. For instance, at the time, tin was costing about £320—$1,600—per ton as compared with brown paper at £35—$175—and cardboard at £50—$250—per ton respectively. It was to the advantage of the nation to abandon costly metals whenever and wherever a paper substitute was equally serviceable.
To counteract the shortage in supplies from abroad every effort was made to extend and to develop the domestic manufacturing facilities. This was not such a simple task as it appeared, inasmuch as we are sadly lacking in the reserves of the necessary material. We possess no soft-wood forests waiting to be turned into paper. In these circumstances the alternative was to embark upon a voyage of discovery and experiment in the hope that an efficient inexpensive range of substitutes might be unearthed to take the place of the imported wood-pulp, either exclusively, which was scarcely to be expected, or to a very pronounced degree.
Official intervention brought home to us one very heavy wastage. This was in regard to the pulp which we imported. Two different kinds of pulp are produced abroad: The one, produced after the manner practised by our friend the wasp, but by mechanical agency, is known as mechanical pulp; the other, contrived by the aid of chemicals, is commercially known as chemical or sulphite pulp. In so far as the first named was concerned official investigation revealed that the Scandinavian mills were accustomed to send the article in a wet form. Now, seeing that wet pulp comprises 50 per cent. of moisture, it will be seen that the vessels bearing this commodity—and tonnage was severely limited—were really working only to one-half of their actual carrying capacity. With every ton of pulp the ships were compelled to carry one ton of water, and to ship water to Britain is comparable with sending snow to Greenland.
The Scandinavian mills were more than willing to ship wet pulp by the thousands of tons, and the British paper-makers were every whit as ready to receive it. To obtain the raw material in this form facilitated, expedited and cheapened the actual paper-making process. It was another instance of British readiness to sacrifice every other interest upon the altars of cheapness and minimum of effort. The Controller, naturally, demurred against paying freight for the carriage of water which is only too abundant in these islands, and forthwith demanded that the pulp should be sent over in the dry form. In this manner he achieved a laudable object: he doubled the quantity of pulp supplied to Britain without calling upon a further ton of shipping for the purpose.
The pulp-makers of Scandinavia, and the paper-makers of Britain, objected to this rational action. Strong protests were levelled against the new order. The affected interests went to great length to explain that the wet pulp was essential, and advanced their reasons—technical, financial and otherwise, but they failed to upset the decision which had been made. The Controller was not seeking the unattainable, because a certain proportion of dry mechanical pulp has always been shipped to this country. It was merely another instance of affected interests desiring to achieve their respective purposes along the lines of least resistance. In no circumstances, normal or war, can the conveyance of water with raw material to these islands be justifiable.
The reason why the pulp-maker was so anxious to ship his pulp wet was because under such conditions he could market it at a lower figure and dispatch it with greater facility. The paper-maker championed the wet form for the reason that it was more convenient to him; he was able to turn it straightaway into his machines. But when imported dry the pulp must be subjected to certain preliminary treatment which involves time, trouble, and a certain expense. Consequently, out of 100 tons of mechanical pulp normally shipped to Britain, only one ton was in the dry form; the other 99 tons were in the more handy wet form. Certainly there are accepted technical objections to dry pulp. It is brittle and apt to chip. But wet or dry it cannot be used exclusively and solely in the preparation of even the lowest grades of newspaper. A certain proportion of the chemical pulp must be added to impart the requisite degree of firmness and stoutness to the fabric.
A little investigation reveals why the Scandinavian pulp-makers were firmly set upon shipping the pulp wet. In pre-war days the British paper-maker paid from £2 5s. to £2 10s.—$11.25 to $12.50—a ton for the moist pulp delivered at a British port. Freight was a mere bagatelle, averaging about 5s.—$1.25—per ton. To convert the wet into dry pulp prior to shipment the Swedish pulp-makers must use coal. This, thanks to hydro-electric energy, is not required in the fabrication of the actual pulp. But Sweden is deficient in coal resources and compliance with the British official request involved the importation of British coal. Inasmuch as it takes from 1,120 to 1,680 lb. of coal to dry one ton of pulp it will be seen that the Swedish manufacturers were faced with a fuel bill which was likely to run into big figures. Under war conditions British coal was expensive, while quality was subject to wide variation. At that time the coal commanded from £8 to £10—$40 to $50—per ton in Sweden. Consequently, to his disgust, the pulp-maker was confronted with the necessity to incur an extra manufacturing charge ranging from £4 to £8—$20 to $40—per ton of pulp produced.
It is to be feared that the Swedish manufacturers, while anxious to sell as much as possible to, were very reluctant to buy, from these islands. They denounced the British official decree in no unmeasured terms, and sought by every means in their power to secure its withdrawal. But for once British authority was not solicitous of the interests of the foreigner. Recognizing the futility of protest the Scandinavian makers set to work to comply with our demands, and so shipped the pulp in the dry form. We received the benefits accruing from this line of action because we received twice as much pulp as formerly for the same amount of tonnage. True, it cost us more, the price running up to £32—$160—per ton, but it is to be feared that the foreign manufacturers took full advantage of the peculiar situation which prevailed in accordance with that inexorable law of supply and demand, although they maintained that their manufacturing charges were heavily inflated, not only from the purchase of the necessary coal, but from the higher wages which labour demanded. But even at the above figure we derived distinct advantage. Seeing that one ton of dry represented the equivalent to two tons of wet pulp we were really paying at the rate of only £16—$80—per ton, less the sum which had to be deducted from the sale of our coal. Restriction of freight had a good deal to do with the enhanced prices. Only 250,000 tons of shipping a year were allocated to this traffic, and what cost 5s.—$1.25—a ton to ship in 1913 cost £13—$65 per ton in 1918. British ships participating in this trade were thus able to get back something of the heavy prices we paid to the foreigner for an indispensable commodity. But even £32—$160—per ton for dry mechanical pulp contrasted favourably with the chemical pulp, also shipped dry. This, which before the war cost £7 10s.—$37.50—per ton shot up to £47—$235—a ton at one period, and recorded £35—$175—per ton during 1918, while paper, even of the lowest grade, which commanded £10—$50—a ton in 1913, realized £45—$225—per ton in 1918.
Contemporaneously with the adjustment of the various questions pertaining to the Scandinavian pulp and paper, the authorities set to work to develop the domestic raw material industry. Obviously the most promising founts were rags and waste-paper. It was computed that, if these available sources were fully exploited, it would be possible to secure some 300,000 tons of suitable material during the year.
However, it was seen that the first step would be to instil into the minds of the community the necessity to observe rigid economy in the use of paper. Rationing brought home the fact that a paper shortage existed, and, of itself, led users to be more sparing in their uses of this article, in precisely the same way as similar measures effected comparative results in connection with foodstuffs and other commodities. But in so far as paper is concerned it is difficult to preach the gospel of economy; it has been ridiculously cheap and abundant for far too long. Nevertheless much was accomplished, but whether the lessons thus imparted have been taken sufficiently to heart as to become ingrained is problematical. Reversion to former conditions will probably promote a state of affairs as bad as, if not worse than, before.
The wasteful consumption of paper was by no means confined to any particular class of the community. Industry was every whit as improvident. For instance, the soap-making trade naturally absorbs immense quantities of the article, but the manufacturers were shown how, by practising simple saving methods, they might do with 10,000 tons less per year, which, at the prices then prevailing, represented a round £350,000—$1,750,000—per annum. To one firm alone the suggestion represented a possible economy of £75,000—$375,000—a year. What is possible of attainment in the soap-making industry is equally feasible in other trades, especially those identified with provisions. If such broad economies be carried out they could scarcely fail to exercise, under competitive trading conditions, an appreciable influence upon the price of the products concerned. Consequently, paper, as already indicated, has a more or less direct bearing upon the cost of living.
The wastage of paper throughout the country is appalling. Upon the completion of its designed function the material is either burned, consigned to dust-bin, or allowed to pursue an aimless journey at the mercy of the wind through our highways and byways. People of a thrifty turn of mind undoubtedly save their waste, disposing of it at intervals to itinerant collectors, who acquire the litter of the house in exchange for something more or less attractive, if not useful, in kind.
Previous to the war very little of this waste found its way back to the domestic paper mills to be re-made. The percentage of waste blended with new pulp was very low, certainly not more than 2 per cent. Even this was almost entirely restricted to what is known as “broke,” that is the trimmings from the reels when repairing breakages in the continuous lengths running through the printing or paper-making machines.
Strange to relate, nearly the whole of the waste-paper recovered from the household, office and factory was exported, principally to the United States of America, until an American firm, discovering Britain to be a waste-paper mine, established itself in our midst to salvage an appreciable quantity of what we regarded as a nuisance. This refuse was utilized as raw material for the manufacture of paper-boards, the American analogue to our familiar strawboard, to form book covers, stout packing, and to meet other conditions where adequate protection to contents is demanded. This became a prosperous undertaking and afforded merely another instance of how the stranger within our gates has been able to reap material profit at our expense and through our folly.
Although this firm absorbed an enormous quantity of our waste-paper it could not cope with the avalanche of this refuse. Many additional thousands of tons were shipped annually to the New World to be worked up. It seems remarkable that the Americans should have found it profitable to collect our residue, to freight it across 3,000 miles of ocean, and to fabricate therefrom their particular range of goods, instead of turning the material available on their own side to such account. But the venture proved decidedly profitable as the results testified. Indeed, it was the enterprise of this pushing firm which first brought home to us the wealth capable of being derived from the commercial exploitation of waste-paper, and which led us to introduce a collecting system upon an organized basis.
When the authorities grasped the significance of the waste-paper issue they promptly took steps to retain the whole of the residue in these islands. Export was prohibited; it could only be returned to British mills. A country-wide appeal was made urging every trader and every private citizen to conserve his waste-paper, whether it were used envelopes, newspapers, postcards or fragments of brown paper. So urgent became the demand for this raw material that housewives were requested to ransack their cupboards and lumber-rooms for odds and ends of every description in the paper line—old novels, abandoned magazines and what not; business houses, workshops, and factories were invited to indulge in spring-cleanings to turn out musty files of old letters, receipts, memoranda, obsolete account books and other accumulations; paper hangings stripped from walls in course of redecoration, instead of being burned, were sedulously bagged; even hoardings were divested of their hard thick hides of superimposed posters to provide food for the paper mills. Municipal authorities were urged to participate in the round-up, since it was recognized that imposing quantities of paper evaded all other methods of recovery from inadvertent committal to the dust-bin. In another chapter I have indicated what was done in this direction.
The authorities stimulated the great national paper-chase by every possible artifice. Waste-paper organizers, to the number of thirty-five, were appointed to various parts of the country to foster and to supervise the collection of this refuse. Licences were granted to approved merchants authorizing them to deal in the article. Prices were fixed and graduated according to the quality of the waste, and upon a liberal basis to encourage one and all to conserve and to hand over their accumulations of what they considered to be sheer rubbish. In this way waste-paper was poured back into the British mills for remanufacture in a steady stream of 4,300 tons a week. For a time the volume was maintained, but then it gradually and persistently declined because as the founts became exhausted the quantity of paper put back into circulation suffered a steady decrease.
Despite the elaborate precautions observed, and the salvage organizations instituted, a vast quantity of the refuse escaped recovery. Paper is something like the elusive pin: where it goes no one appears to know. During the period when salvage was being pressed home with all vigour the British mills were turning out about 700,000 tons of paper a year. Of this aggregate approximately one-fifth—150,000 tons—went to the army in the field in France in some form or other. A further 150,000 tons could not be expected to be recovered as waste, being either retained or submitted to certain necessary applications such as filing, the lighting of fires, and so on. This left a balance of 400,000 tons which went into circulation, but of which only 200,000 tons were retrieved to be sent back to the mills to be repulped. What became of the outstanding 200,000 tons it was impossible to say: it simply disappeared. Probably much suffered destruction through ignorance, while no doubt much was lost through being soiled to such a degree as to be beyond redemption. But the fact remained that of the 700,000 tons produced at least 50 per cent., or 350,000 tons—including the 150,000 tons sent to France—were completely lost, whereas by the exercise of a little forethought, care and trouble the greater part thereof might have been retrieved. Through negligence or ignorance the nation was losing a round £3,350,000—$16,750,000—a year, because the paper was worth at least one penny—2 cents—a pound in the waste form.
From the magnitude of the absolute losses it is obvious that we could never have sustained ourselves for long upon the forthcoming supplies of waste-paper and the diminished foreign imports of pulp to serve as raw materials. Accordingly search was made for other potential raw materials of domestic origin, the governing principle of this mission being to place the country in such a position as to be quite independent of the foreigner in all matters pertaining to paper, not only during the war period, but after the cessation of hostilities.
Paper, in one respect, is a curious manufactured product. It can be made from almost any fibrous material with the exception of wool. The knowledge of this fact prompted members of the general public to advance the claims of divers and wondrous substances. As may be readily imagined, the majority of these suggestions erred somewhat upon the side of the fantastic and chimerical. The mere fact that paper can be made from almost anything does not necessarily imply that it is commercially practicable to exploit even the most obvious raw materials indiscriminately. There is a wide and deep gulf between the laboratory, the cradle of experiment, and the factory, the home of application. In the first-named the factor of cost of production does not count; in the last-named it constitutes the crux of the issue. Consequently the majority of the recommendations submitted by the uninitiated suffered from the disability of being perfectly feasible but hopelessly impracticable. Submission of a suggestion to the cold, unrelenting, unsympathetic manufacturing analysis and subsequent translation into pounds, shillings, and pence offered the incontestable reply to the inevitable question “Will it pay?”
One article of domestic origin, the spartina, or common couch grass, which thrives in abundance upon many stretches of our coastline, notably Hampshire, was responsible for an avalanche of letters containing inquiries as to why this material was not being turned to account. Apparently every individual who had visited the neighbourhood of the Solent, and had observed the density of this growth, assailed the authorities for their lethargy. Esparto grass was imported from Spain to make paper, and yet here we were ignoring a readily obtainable indigenous grass similar in every respect!
But the claims of spartina had been promptly investigated—to be found wanting. In the first place, when a new material appears to be promising the question as to whether sufficiently imposing supplies could be forthcoming must be considered carefully. The paper-making machines are insatiable and avaricious, devouring raw material not by the ton but by the thousands of tons. This in turn gives rise to the question as to the cost of securing the necessarily heavy supplies. One enthusiast, who had advanced the claims of the couch grass, was interrogated upon the subject because he had evolved a means of gathering the spartina. When he was asked the cost of his process he blandly replied that he could do it for £15—$75—per ton. He received a shock when he was told that there was another material, forthcoming in far greater quantities, and far more suitable for the purpose, which could be obtained and delivered to the mill for £4 10s.—$22.50—a ton! I may remark that spartina grass is being used for paper-making where the conditions favour its cheap collection and transport. Speaking generally, however, with prices at an artificial level, any material costing more than £5—$25—per ton delivered at the mill—this figure is inclusive of collecting, transport, and other charges—stands little chance of favourable consideration. Under normal trading conditions the prospect will be even less attractive.
The acquisition of the raw material represents merely the preliminary phase of the whole issue. To reduce it to pulp involves the consumption of coal—cheap water-power is rare in these islands—and so the probable fuel bill requires to be sounded. How many tons of coal will be required to produce a ton of pulp? It is a simple question and one which prompts another, closely allied thereto, namely, “How many tons of such-and-such material will be required to furnish a ton of paper?”
This is the rock upon which many buoyant expectations have been completely wrecked. Still confining ourselves to the couch grass, and considering the second factor first, we find that it has rather a low yield efficiency, this being in the neighbourhood of 27 per cent. In other words, it will require nearly four tons of crude grass to produce one ton of paper. When ranged beside esparto grass, with which it seems to have much in common, and which therefore is a convenient comparative unit, the outlook for the couch grass is completely shattered, because the efficiency yield of esparto is high, 43·5 per cent. Only a little more than two tons of grass are necessary to produce one ton of paper.
But the fuel factor is far more destructive to the claims of the waste grass growing upon the seashore. To make one ton of paper from esparto grass, under the most favourable conditions, requires 3 tons of coal. In actual practice it ranges from 3·5 to 4 tons. But with spartina grass the coal consumption is forced up to 5, and even to 7, tons under the unfavourable conditions prevailing in many paper-mills. Accordingly, it will be seen that couch grass cannot be construed into an attractive raw material for paper. I may say there are other objections to its use, but the foregoing are sufficient to bring about its rejection in this phase of utility.
Even if we take those materials which are accepted as being the most favourable to the manufacture of paper we gain enlightenment. One ton of waste-paper will not yield one ton of new paper as might be imagined. The loss in re-manufacture is about 25 per cent., so that from the 58,000 tons which enter into the made waste of the country we could produce about 44,000 tons of new paper. Cotton rags have a high yield efficiency, being in the neighbourhood of 85 per cent. and upon this basis we might safely expect a yield of some 16,000 tons of paper from the 19,000 tons of rags committed to the dust-bins of the country.
It may be mentioned that in the search for indigenous materials whence paper might be manufactured, the whole gamut of obvious domestic contributions to the issue have been examined, including such substances as sawdust, wood-shavings, wood-slats, grasses of which there are over 100 varieties, mimosa bark, peat, straw, flax-wastes, flax-shoves, and dried potato vine. Of this wide selection only four materials hold out any promise of extending commercial possibilities. These include sawdust, wood-shavings, wood-slats and straw, with potato haulm serving as an excellent material for the fabrication of a coarse, strong, brown packing paper. Of course, it must be explained that these materials are in addition to those generally utilized in the industry, such as rags, sacking, bagging and reeds, to mention only a few substances.
The definite end sought in the first instance was not so much the discovery of suitable substances to supersede entirely the imported mechanical and chemical pulps, as the presentation of materials which might be considered effectively as useful for dilution purposes. By this is meant the production of a pulp, made perhaps from some familiar product, which, when added to a certain proportion of the conventional pulp, would yield a paper comparable with that derived from the last-named exclusively. Any success recorded in connection with a diluent offers the means to enable a specific quantity of the imported raw material to be induced to go farther than would be the case otherwise, this tendency becoming accentuated as dilution is increased.
It was essentially in this light that the feasibility of pressing sawdust, wood-slats, and other wood and vegetable refuse was considered. Of course, behind all these developments, experiments, and researches, there has been the lingering hope that ways and means might ultimately be found of enabling us to dispense with outside sources of supply in their entirety. This hope still prevails, and, if properly fostered, may lead to realization. But to consummate such an end it is essential to employ materials capable of yielding a pulp as closely resembling the article derived from the tree as possible. Patient investigation proved that sawdust offered the most attractive possibilities in this connection.
While doubt has been expressed concerning the adaptability of sawdust to this duty there are the experiences of Canada and the United States to guide us. Indeed, we need not go out of these islands to obtain confirmatory evidence of its applicability to paper-making. Britain pioneered the utilization of sawdust for the manufacture of paper, and, by a strange coincidence, it was the Napoleonic wars which compelled us to resort to such a manifestation of enterprise. With the exit of Napoleon from the world’s political stage the necessity to exploit sawdust in this connection disappeared, and so the process fell into disuse, to lie dormant for a round one hundred years. Consequently the use of sawdust really represents but a revival of an old practice.
But, so far as these islands are concerned, and under normal conditions, sawdust can scarcely be regarded as a paper-making material. The quantity available from our sawmills is too meagre to enable the idea to be practised extensively. There is just one chance of placing the development upon a firm footing. We are big consumers of timber, but the greater part of our requirements in this field are satisfied by importing supplies in a manufactured condition. Attempts are being made to restore the British wood-working industry by importing lumber in the slabbed condition, that is square trimmed logs either in the form of huge rafts or demountable ships. Should this development mature then our sawmills will become clogged with huge accumulations of wood-waste in the form of the sawdust, the exploitation of which will be keenly appreciated.
During the war, however, the necessity to exploit the forests of Britain to contribute to the requirements of the army and mines in regard to wood has resulted in the piling-up of huge heaps of sawdust. It was discovered that in Scotland alone this residue was accumulating at the rate of 60,000 tons a year, through the activity of the Canadian lumberjacks. Conservative estimates place the annual sawdust yield throughout the British Isles at 150,000 tons. Of this gigantic contribution only from 5 to 10 per cent. is drawn from hard woods. The balance, 90 to 95 per cent., is derived from the soft woods and so furnishes a huge reservoir of potential raw material for paper-making.
Coincident with the accumulation of sawdust are the fabrication of huge piles of wood-slats—the trimmings from the logs. These also represent sheer refuse, the only possible disposal being in the form of fire or kindling wood. At one lumber-camp in Scotland there was found a pile, a sprawling, ragged and jagged stack, house-high, covering 20 acres, and containing, at a modest estimate, from 300 to 500 tons of wood-waste. It was ideal for paper-making as investigations proved, but was then merely being allowed to rot.
The process of preparing sawdust for the paper-maker is very simple and inexpensive. It may be described as an application of the system for producing mechanical pulp, because, in the main, the resultant product is very similar to the latter in its essential characteristics. The waste, being the product of the buzz-saw, is coarse in texture. It is first passed over a riddle of wide mesh, which, while allowing the dust proper to fall through readily, collects the pieces of bark, chips, and other fragments of wood which may have become associated with the dust. This residue is thrown to one side for conversion by a different method. The sifted sawdust is dumped into a hopper to fall by gravity in a steady stream into the mill, which is somewhat reminiscent of the familiar mortar-mill, below. As it enters the latter it is caught up by the revolving grindstone and crushed against the stationary stone, the result being that it is disintegrated and pulverized. By virtue of the centrifugal action set up the dust, as it is whirled round, naturally works from the centre to the periphery of the wheels, the coarser particles or tailings being flung out, while the finely-divided dust, produced by the grinding action, falls into a separate receptacle.
The tailings are recovered to be re-passed through the mill, and, in time, for the most part are also ground to the desired degree of fineness. A certain proportion of residue defies reduction in this manner, but it is not discarded. It is retrieved to be used in the manufacture of coarse brown paper. Two methods of grinding, even in the vertical mill, are practised. The one known as the wet process involves the addition of water to the dust, which thus becomes hydrated, the resultant saw-pulp, as it is called, being somewhat similar to the familiar wet mechanical pulp. The alternative process is described as dry grinding, the sap in the wood constituting the only moist agent.
It may be mentioned that, in the very earliest attempts to emulate the wasps’ paper-making process, the experimenter ground the wood to dust by applying the log to the face of a grindstone which was revolving, water being the lubricant, the practice recalling the grinding of tools. The particles of wood fell, with the water, into the trough beneath. The surplus water was drawn off, leaving a mashy residue or pulp—hence the name.
In grinding the sawdust the coarse material is reduced to a fine powdery substance, soft and silky in texture when dry, but which retains the essential fibrous characteristic, though naturally the length of the individual fibre is extremely minute. But pulp so produced possesses one advantage for the paper-maker—it demands no preliminary boiling. It can be discharged direct into the beater, as the machine which prepares the raw material for the paper-making machine is called, with the waste-paper, sulphite or mechanical pulp, or a mixture of both, it only being necessary for the agitation of the contents of the beater to be conducted thoroughly to bring about the perfect blending of the ingredients.
I have emphasized the circumstance that this saw-pulp may only be considered as a diluent. This may be varied from 10 to 35 per cent. according to the quality of the paper desired. The issue of the Times, dated June 15, 1918, was printed on paper containing 20 per cent. of this saw-pulp, but I have seen other newspapers the paper for which was prepared from pulp diluted to the extent of 35 per cent. with the saw-pulp. With the accumulation of experience in the working up of this material marked improvements are to be recorded in regard to quality of the resultant paper which has enabled dilution to be carried to an enhanced degree without imperilling the factor of strength which the finished product must possess to enable it to be passed through the newspaper printing machine at a speed of 500 feet per minute without breaking. Under modern conditions it is difficult to determine whether or not saw-pulp has been introduced into the composition of the paper, which testifies conclusively to the perfection of production.
This economic utilization of one waste from the sawmill is of decisive financial significance. Cost of production is extremely low, because the power for driving the grinding mill may be obtained by firing the steam boilers either with sawdust itself, the consumption thereof being small, or with the refuse resulting from the preliminary sifting of the dust. Indeed, the process holds out such alluring possibilities that there is no reason why every sawmill should not include a grinding mill to treat the residue on the spot, shipping the saw-pulp direct to the mill, thus turning what is now an unmitigated nuisance and a source of danger into a distinct commercial asset. It is estimated that a grinding mill requiring 25 h.p. for its operation could turn out 1¹⁄₃ tons of saw-pulp in the course of the ordinary 8 hours’ working day or 7 tons a week. The cost of such a plant would be about £400—$2,000—and the price obtainable for the product should be sufficient to render the conversion of the waste to this useful purpose attractive after paying all outgoings. At the time the practice was brought into operation the cost of reducing the sawdust to saw-pulp of the desired character was from £5 to £6—$25 to $30—per ton. It is estimated that the saw-pulp maker would be equitably rewarded with £8—$40—per ton for the finished material ready for transport to the mill. On this basis a grinding mill, working to full capacity through the 44 hours’ working week, should be able to show a gross profit of £21—$105—which should leave an adequate margin of net profit to encourage such exploitation of the waste. The expansion of this young industry, however, depends entirely upon the conditions which will obtain upon the restoration of normal trading. It is a moot point whether the Scandinavian pulp-makers will ever be able to revert to pre-war quotations for their product, owing to the increasing costs of production, and this fact should render the outlook distinctly promising for the home producers, more especially if the sawmill trade be destined to undergo a decided revival. Every ton of saw-pulp produced from the waste will prove beneficial to the nation, for the simple reason that it will enable us to reduce our purchases from foreign sources of pulp by a corresponding amount.
While saw-pulp can only be regarded as a contribution to the paper-making problem, there happens to be another waste product suitable for this purpose, one which is available in much larger quantities, and the supply of which would seem to be increasing rather than decreasing. I refer to straw. Hitherto we have sadly neglected the many possibilities offered in this connection, having preferred to turn our by-product of the grain fields to other applications and to import vast quantities of strawboard for the manufacture of boxes, containers, and what not. Other countries have been more industrious and enterprising than we, but what they have achieved is equally feasible in these islands. To bring home the magnitude of this industry it is only necessary to relate that our annual pre-war imports of strawboard from Holland reached 250,000 tons.
There is no reason why such a lamentable state of affairs should continue. Straw is not only useful for the production of strawboard, but it constitutes an excellent material for the manufacture of paper. Its yield efficiency, while lower than that of esparto grass, being only 33·3 per cent., is sufficiently high to render its exploitation in this direction highly promising, especially as the material can be obtained in huge quantities.
At the present moment our supplies of straw for civilian needs may rule low and prices may be high. But this is due to the heavy military demands. Once the latter retire from the market and leave the article to take care of itself, a marked drop in price may be confidently anticipated, particularly if our new agricultural policy be maintained. So long as it pays the farmer to grow corn he will continue to do so, and the more acres he brings under this indispensable commodity the greater will be the quantity of the by-product thrown upon the market. It is anticipated that, when things settle down, from 2,000,000 to 3,000,000 tons of straw in excess of civilian needs will be available, and the only possible outlet then for this waste from our grain-fields will be the paper-mill. The utilization of the straw in this direction will be influenced by charges for fuel and labour, while, of course, the price of the imported pulp will affect any decision which may be contemplated in regard to the exploitation of our home resources. But assuming that the Scandinavian pulp will be dearer as a result of enhanced production charges, and assuming that dumping tactics just to hold the market will be frustrated, it is quite possible that we shall find it cheaper to depend upon our own exertions with domestic materials. If the quantity of straw which I have mentioned should become available and be absorbed for this purpose, it will be adequate to furnish from 670,000 to 1,000,000 tons of paper.
The straw, borne directly from the land, is relatively cheap. The cost, delivered to the mill, even during the war was only about £4 10s.—$22.50—per ton. This figure is likely to fall. It produces an excellent paper, but it is essential that it should be chopped very finely preparatory to treatment, after which it is boiled with chemicals and finally bleached. The yield efficiency being 33·3 per cent. it follows that three tons of straw are required to produce one ton of paper.
But the straw is not only required for the production of paper; it is equally necessary for the manufacture of strawboard. Under war conditions an appreciable quantity of the reclaimed paper was being repulped to furnish cardboard and paper-board for packing purposes to make good the shortage prevailing in regard to the Dutch product. But the waste-paper is more useful for paper-making. Accordingly it is being switched over to this duty. It was merely utilized otherwise during the war because it was so urgently required, the national consumption running into approximately 100,000 tons annually. Efforts are being made to establish the strawboard industry in these islands. The Dutch method has been adopted, and there are hopes that the output will be speedily raised to 50,000 tons a year. While this falls far short of the actual imports it represents a bold commencement to emancipate us from the necessity to pay tribute to the foreigner to the extent of nearly £1,000,000—$5,000,000—per year for an article which we might just as well produce at home.
Why do we not undertake the manufacture of wood-pulp in this country? This is an obvious question. But so far as these islands are concerned the absence of supplies of raw material in the form of forests has been responsible for the British abandonment of this range of activity. Anterior to the outbreak of war there were three mills in this country possessing integral facilities for pulping wood by the sulphite process, but it was unremunerative owing to the insufficient supplies of suitable indigenous timber. Two mills permitted their sulphite plant to fall into disuse and in course of time dismantled them. The third mill maintained operations, though under difficulties, while its contribution was small in comparison with that of Scandinavia, its capacity being only 6,000 tons a year.
The enormous accumulations of wood-slats arising from the exploitation of our forests to meet military requirements turned native thought towards the resuscitation of the chemical system of pulping. A scheme was promulgated for the erection of a plant in Scotland to work upon the sulphate process, the proposed site for the plant happening to be in close proximity to one of the largest ephemeral logging camps. By the sulphate system the wood is reduced to a pulp by boiling in a solution of caustic soda, and for this reason is often known as soda pulp to distinguish it from the sulphite pulp. It requires three tons of wood chips to yield one ton of pulp, which incidentally I may mention is one of the strongest pulps known to the paper-making craft. At the time the problem was discussed this pulp commanded £40—$200—a ton, and so manufacture was considered to offer an alluring prospect for British enterprise. The only defect in this pulp is that it is difficult to bleach, and therefore can be used only sparingly in the production of white paper. It is used principally in the manufacture of strong brown papers, such as “thin kraft,” the brown paper used for fruit and other bags, or for packing-paper where colour is of minor importance.
Henceforth “kraft” will be in heavy demand for quite a new range of activity. This is the production of paper textiles in which British inventiveness has far out-distanced the German achievements in this field. At the moment the British company specializing in these textiles is being called upon to pay £40—$200—per ton for its raw material drawn from Scandinavia, so that any fall in price which was anticipated as a result of the cessation of hostilities, which would be likely to undercut British production, has failed to materialize so far. It may also be mentioned that British enterprise is quite ready to bring over illimitable quantities of soft woods from the forests of Eastern Canada in the log condition, and at a rate which is far cheaper than that which has hitherto prevailed. This is due to a complete revolution which has been wrought in the water movement of lumber, and it will not only enable the requisite material to be acquired at a figure severely competitive, but allow much of the waste lumber in Canada, at present being ignored, to be submitted to commercial service.
But the exploitation of the foregoing materials by no means exhausts our possibilities in this field. There are other substances, of a refuse character, possessing undoubted virtues for paper-making. Among these may be mentioned potato haulm. There is every indication that our output of the potato will record a decided increase owing to the development of industrial science in other fields. Consequently it is only logical to expect increased accumulations of the bine. At the present moment the vegetation in question is regarded more or less as useless. It should be turned back into the ground to assist in feeding the soil, but many farmers are disinclined to follow such a practice for the reason that the bine is apt to foul the plough, and thus delay the ground-breaking task. Its fertilizer content, or rather the phosphoric acid and potash constituents, are generally reclaimed by burning the bine and turning in the ash, but this process is to be deprecated inasmuch as the whole of the valuable nitrogen content is lost.
The haulm, owing to the nature of its fibres, is held to be an excellent material for the production of brown paper where strength is the essential requirement. So a British inventor devised what may be described as a kind of decorticating machine to rend the tough fibre to pieces upon the spot. The machine is simple, free from liability to easy derangement, and ingenious. It is suggested that it should be acquired by the farmer to permit the treatment of this waste as recovered during the lifting season. It is held to make especial appeal to the agriculturist possessing a motor-tractor, the requisite energy being drawn therefrom through belt and pulley. It is estimated that the manufacture of the machine, upon a sufficiently large scale, will enable it to be sold at about £100—$500. The shredded stalk or fibre should be able to command from £4 10s. to £5 10s.—$22.50 to $27.50—per ton at the mill and should appeal to the paper-maker owing to its high yield efficiency, which is in the neighbourhood of 65 per cent. Of course, the suggestion that this waste should be recovered for the production of paper is one that can only be entertained by the large grower, but it is computed that at least 1,000 machines would be necessary to cope with the country’s annual output of this refuse.
Another waste product which has also been subjected to test, and found promising, is the husk from the oat which accrues from milling. The useless offal resulting from grinding this grain is approximately 35 per cent. In its general characteristics the oat-husk closely resembles sawdust, while its preparation for paper-making entails a broadly identical process—passage through a grinding mill to reduce the residue to the desired consistency. Investigations proved the suitability of this husk-pulp as an ingredient for making certain low-grade papers, such as are used by grocers, and for the very cheapest literature. Paper so made is composed of oat-husks, 35 per cent.; waste-paper, 50 per cent.; imported pulp, 15 per cent. But the most gratifying feature of such paper is that it can be made from domestic raw materials—waste—to the extent of 85 per cent.
It is evident, from what I have related, that the paper situation need never occasion us any undue alarm. We have abundant materials available in the form of waste which we might exploit to our material and financial profit. War, with its concomitant evils, has turned the world upside down. What we could not exploit previously to advantage, owing to severely competitive prices, is now rendered feasible. It only remains for us to submit the results of proved experiments to actual commercial practice.
CHAPTER IX
SUPPLYING INDUSTRIES FROM THE DUST-BIN
During the past few years no effort has been spared to improve the health and well-being of the community. Laws innumerable have been passed compelling the mitigation of nuisances and the removal of menaces to hygiene. These efforts are laudable, but, while they have achieved the desired end, they have been directly responsible for many other shortcomings. The greatest of these is waste, more especially in so far as it affects the household.
Probably no other factor has contributed so materially towards the factor of heavier domestic prodigality than the provision of the portable dust-bin, and the introduction of systematic and regular collection of the flotsam and jetsam contributed thereto. The very convenience which the dust-bin or ash-barrel represents has served to accentuate household extravagance. “Throw it in the dust-bin!” is the popular slogan in domestic circles. Consequently this receptacle has become the harbour for much domestic refuse which, under previous conditions, would never have been so summarily discarded.
This disposition to be wasteful might have been checked, or at least the errors of the domestic circle might have been rectified very considerably, but for one disturbing element. We became such devout worshippers of hygiene as to become insensible to all reasoning. A few years ago the practice was to discharge the contents of the ash-barrel upon open waste land. A small army of workers, even the nomadic element of the community, turned to and raked over the spoil from our homes very diligently. In this way immense quantities of odds and ends in infinite variety which otherwise would have been lost found a market as raw materials for many industries. Even the ultimate organic residue fulfilled a mission of utility and one in consonance with the laws of Nature, because, in the process of decomposition, the nitrogen and phosphoric acid contents of the dump suffered release to feed the soil to raise sustenance for man and beast.
But ransacking the garbage heap was declared to be a degrading and health-menacing occupation and practice. Indeed, the whole system of household refuse disposal was held up to obloquy. Reform was achieved by the energetic advocacy of another means wherewith to cope with such waste. It received widespread support because it fully coincided with all the requirements of hygiene, while, furthermore, it was simple, expeditious, effective and apparently cheap.
This was destruction by fire along so-called scientific lines. The new idea arrested public fancy mainly for the reason that its champions laid emphasis upon the fact that it presented the possibility of obtaining energy to generate electric light and power and to drive tramways for nothing. Municipalities became affected with the incineration fever. Steam was necessary to drive the electric plant which had been acquired. Why not cut down the coal-bill by making use of the fuel properties possessed by household refuse? The contents of the domestic dust-bin are so varied, ranging from waste-paper, grease-laden bones, fragments of fat, cinders, rags and vegetable odds and ends as to present, in the aggregate, a readily combustible mass possessing distinct calorific value. By utilizing the garbage, which has to be collected, in this manner, the coal-bill might be reduced by so much.
So argued the advocates of the new idea, and their reasonings proved so specious as to gain the day. The prospect of being able to get “Something for nothing” was so alluring as to silence effectively all adverse criticism. Of course, it was futile to gainsay that cremation could be rivalled as a prompt, simple, and completely sanitary means of coping with the refuse which accumulates in every city and big town. Forthwith destruction by fire became the widely-accepted means of getting rid of the unsightly and unsavoury contents of the dust-bin.
Yet the coming of the dust-destructor proved to be a distinctly retrograde step in the science of economics. It contributed to increased improvidence in the home, because the ash-barrel became the receptacle for a still wider assortment of organic material than ever before, and in greater bulk.
It must be conceded that not all of the garbage which suffered this fate was destroyed to futility. A certain volume of steam was certainly raised wherewith to drive the electric generators, but the amount of energy obtained in this way was out of all proportion to the quantity and value of the material incinerated. In certain cases the destructor was not harnessed to the power station. The ratepayers have not experienced any sensible relief in regard to the fuel bills. Even incineration of household refuse, despite the proportion of its combustible contents, cannot be conducted satisfactorily without the consumption of a certain volume of coal. And the process precipitates a certain quantity of further refuse, in the form of clinker and ash, the economic disposal of which has provoked another and even more perplexing problem.
When necessity, which knows no law, compelled us to economize in every direction, and particularly in connection with food, we found it expedient to turn round to ascertain whether or not we might be able to effect tangible savings to minimize the disconcerting influences of stringency. The domestic dust-bin was the first factor in the domestic circle to undergo sensational overhaul. Material which had hitherto been consigned to this dead end only too freely and perfunctorily, was more closely scrutinized to see if it could not be induced to yield further useful service before suffering complete abandonment by the housewife. Contemporaneously with this manifestation of individual private effort the civic and municipal authorities were compelled to display unwonted activity. The whole problem of refuse disposal had to be viewed from quite a new angle.
Upon investigating the issue of household refuse at close quarters, and under the microscope of concentrated interest, the country’s wastage in this direction was found to exceed the wildest speculations of the critics. For the first time illuminating statistics became available. According to the National Salvage Council, the official department created to stimulate the public mind in matters pertaining to this question, the quantity of refuse “made” by householders throughout the country during the year may be set down at 9,450,000 tons.
At first sight this figure seems so startling as to be received with incredulity, but analysis suffices to demonstrate that it does not err upon the side of exaggeration. Rather is it conservative. It is based upon an allowance of 1,680 lb. a day for each 1,000 members of the total population during 300 days of the year. An allowance of 1·68 lb. per head per day wastage cannot be construed as excessive. How many households of six persons can show a weekly dust-bin collection weighing less than 60 lb. especially when the extremely varied contents of the receptacle are born in mind?
Now, of what is the heterogeneous collection of the dust-bin composed, and what is the proportion of each to the aggregate? The following table, based upon the data collected by the official department already mentioned, shows—
| Material. | Average Percentage. | Total per Year. | Estimated Value. | |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Tons. | £ | $ | ||
| Fine dust | 50·98 | 4,800,000 | 240,000 | 1,200,000 |
| Cinders | 39·63 | 3,700,000 | 1,850,000 | 9,250,000 |
| Bricks, pots, shales, etc. | 5·35 | 500,000 | 25,000 | 125,000 |
| Tins | 0·98 | 90,000 | 360,000 | 1,800,000 |
| Rags | 0·40 | 37,000 | 555,000 | 2,775,000 |
| Glass | 0·61 | 50,000 | 100,000 | 500,000 |
| Bones | 0·05 | 4,000 | — | — |
| Vegetable matter | 0·72 | 68,000 | — | — |
| Scrap iron | 0·06 | 5,000 | 15,000 | 75,000 |
| Shells (oyster, etc.) | 0·08 | 7,000 | — | — |
| Paper | 0·62 | 58,000 | 400,000 | 2,000,000 |
From these figures it is evident that the dust-bin is a veritable treasure ground. Of course the values are subject to market fluctuations, but it is apparent that a round £3,000,000—$15,000,000—more or less, a year, is being allowed to fly up the chimney to vanish in smoke and gases, and to extend very meagre return for its combustion.
Let us consider the despised homely cinders as an illustration of how we permit wicked waste to reign in the household circle. According to the table they represent approximately two-fifths of the total contents of the dust-bin, and make up the respectable aggregate of 3,700,000 tons a year for the whole country. As a straight fuel the cinder is but slightly inferior to coal. When washed its calorific value is about 10,000 British Thermal Units. Good steam coal only averages 14,000 British Thermal Units. Accordingly the spurned cinder, from the heat-raising point of view, is worth about five-sevenths of coal drawn fresh from the mines. The householders of Britain have been content to throw away 37,000,000,000 British Thermal Units every year in ignorance. Translated into terms of coal this is equivalent to 2,642,857 tons. In other words we have wasted what is tantamount to two-and-a-half millions of high-grade coal every year, and have spent money on fuel which we might just as well have kept in our pockets or have turned to other beneficial purposes. Obviously, if every house undertook to turn its cinders to full account, the domestic call upon the mines might be materially reduced, while there would be an appreciable contribution to the conservation of our coal resources from such a practice.
Paper is another commodity which, in the past, we have handled along woefully improvident lines, as related in the previous chapter. We have not even taken the trouble to burn it, but have permitted it to drift and flutter hither and thither to find a final repository, grievously soiled and dirty, in the dust-bin. But even when so marred and deteriorated it was worth, during the war period, no less than £7—$35—a ton!
The wastage of rags, both cotton and woollen, has been even more deplorable. In this instance, however, possibly a reasonable excuse for the prompt consignment of such material to the dust-bin and the dust-destructor can be advanced. Popular opinion regards textile odds and ends as an ideal vehicle for the transmission of the germs of disease. Yet such does not justify the indiscriminate committal of material worth £15—$75—per ton to incineration. Infected rags should be burned forthwith in the household fire. But are they? Investigation would probably reveal the disconcerting fact that they are thrown into the dust-bin, as offering the most convenient means of disposal. Even if they should be above suspicion when discarded, the chances are that they become contaminated in the ash-barrel. Consequently upon recovery such materials should be subjected to preliminary inexpensive sterilization to ensure the public safety.
When the necessity to practise household salvage upon a comprehensive scale became imperative, a few discreet inquiries were made to secure reliable statistics as to what wealth is ignored or thrown away by the community of these islands. The results were somewhat surprising.
In Sheffield, a city of some 500,000 persons, 56,000 jam-jars were recovered in one week through a special collection conducted by school children. They realized 6 shillings—$1.50—a gross, and so brought in £120—$600. In Leicester the practice is, or was, to dispose of certain articles to the local marine store dealers after collection, and to divide the profit arising from the transaction among the employees engaged in the refuse-gathering task. One quarter’s waste, exclusive of old tins and waste-paper, netted £343—$1,715—of which £249—$1,245—was obtained from rags alone. There were 264 dozen jam-jars collected. They cost 15s.—$3.75—a gross new, and the trade expressed its readiness to take over the reclaimed vessels at 7s. 6d.—$1.87—a gross. Kensington made £1,000—$5,000—from the sale of one year’s collection of waste-paper. The Southport authorities recovered £2,000—$10,000—over a similar transaction. The metropolitan boroughs of Finsbury and Marylebone each swelled its local treasury to the extent of £500—$2,500—in a similar manner. The City of London garners 30 tons of this commodity every week. The ink-bottles recovered from the garbage barrels of the metropolis would provide a person with a comfortable income, averaging as they do several gross a day. Liverpool derives £300—$1,500—from house-swill alone, which it collects, dries, and turns into poultry-meal to sell at £15—$75—a ton. Aberdeen, as the result of one day’s organized collection, secured sufficient bottles to realize £567—$2,835.
It is obvious that, no matter from what point of view the question is regarded, systematic organized salvage of the contents of the household dust-bin can be rendered a highly profitable enterprise. Certainly it opens up a promisingly rich and legitimate field for municipal trading, though it is equally accessible to private initiative. It is only requisite to survey the whole situation of the disposal of house garbage from the new angle of scientific application. It is not refuse in the generally accepted interpretation of the term. Such material should rightly be regarded as by-products of the private domestic kitchen.
The tardy recognition of this fact is responsible for a curious reversion in practice. The open-air sifting of house refuse for the recovery of substances possessed of commercial value was unequivocably condemned from health motives, as previously mentioned. Yet, in order to recover these articles, some system of selection and hand manipulation are inevitable, notwithstanding the high degree of intellectuality to which machinery has been advanced. But the old system of hand-picking was primitive in its simplicity. The circumstance that household refuse, both organic and inorganic, possesses virtues which the vogue of the destructor caused to be blindly ignored, has been responsible for a manifestation of marked ingenuity upon the part of the engineering profession. The necessity to recover every ounce of material possessing a market value was never so acute as it is to-day. Supplies are short and are likely to remain inadequate for some time to come, while the high level of prices is apt to compel more rigid economy. Yet the strains encountered in this direction may be very sensibly lessened by the practice of salvage along more intensive lines.
It would seem as if refuse recovery were destined to develop into a highly specialized branch of the engineering craft. Hitherto for the most part the engineer has confined his efforts towards garbage-disposal by destruction, but the new tendency is far more logical and deserving of every encouragement. Certainly it is a field in which abundant scope is offered for brilliancy and ingenuity of thought. This is demonstrated by the activity of certain firms, more particularly of one in the North of England, the guiding hand of the destinies of which has evolved a complete recovery plant, having many decidedly ingenious features, and which is already being installed by certain of our more progressive corporations and municipal authorities.
This plant is self-contained, and, so far as is feasible, is automatically operated. While hand-picking cannot be entirely eliminated it has been reduced to the minimum. The system adopted facilitates the task, and renders hand-picking as congenial as the peculiar conditions will permit. Furthermore it is an individual entity. While it can be established in an isolated centre it can also be coupled up to the existing dust-destructor, or power-generating station if preferred, thereby complying with the general desire to centralize municipally-controlled installations. This is certainly a powerful recommendation, because it avoids superfluous transport and handling.
Under this scheme the refuse-collecting vehicles discharge their loads into a receiving hopper from which the material falls by gravitation into a hexagonally-shaped revolving riddle. This screen or reel for two-thirds of its length is perforated to allow the fine ash associated with the waste to escape into another large hopper placed immediately beneath. The ash may then either be withdrawn directly from this hopper into wagons or carts for removal, or should arrangements be made for its combination with other ingredients to produce a fertilizing agent, it may be led by conveyor from the hopper to the compounding-room.
For the remaining third of its length the hexagonal revolving screen is perforated with a coarser mesh to permit the cinders to escape into a separate hopper, at the base of which is a worm conveyor which receives the cinders and bears them to a washer. The washing operation is introduced to allow the separation of the light or combustible fuel—cinders—from the heavier clinker, fragments of glass, pottery, and other incombustible substances. At the same time all fine dust clogging the interstices or pores of the cinders is removed, thereby facilitating the subsequent combustion of the cinder, while, of course, the heat produced from the cleansed fuel is greater than that derived from such material loaded with incombustible dust.
After being washed the cinders are picked up by a scraper elevator. If it be intended to utilize this fuel for raising steam in the adjacent power plant it can be carried by conveyor direct to the boiler-room, to be discharged into the bunkers or furnaces. Should it be decided to dispose of the cinders, either wholly or in part, to the general public, they may be taken by the transporter to any suitable point to be stored against sale in bulk or in bags.
A second scraper elevator gathers the heavier debris separated from the combustible fuel in the washer, and carries it to a pulverizer, to which it is delivered through a chute. If the fine dust associated with the raw refuse, and which fell through the receiving screen, be not delivered from its hopper into vehicles for immediate disposal, it may be led to this point to be stored in the pit receiving the material from the pulverizer with which it may be mixed. Of course, the dust is not passed through the grinding plant.
The elimination of the dust and coarser material from the crude garbage in the receiving screen leaves an appreciable quantity of organic and inorganic matter, comprising such divers substances as paper, fragments of wood, bottles, jars, bones, tins, and vegetable material to be handled. As these cannot pass through the perforations in the sifting screen they are delivered on to a broad endless conveyor-belt travelling between two platforms. This is the “picking belt,” from the fact that as the material is borne along between the two platforms the useful material is removed by the hands of pickers, to be cast into suitably disposed bins. In this manner the process of segregation is carried out with the minimum of effort, while the material is in movement, and under the most congenial conditions the character of the work will permit. It represents the only stage at which recourse to manual labour is required, so that it will be seen that hand-selection is reduced to the absolute minimum.
The waste-paper is not touched by hand. At a suitable point a specially designed hood, connected to an exhauster, is mounted over the picking belt. When this is set in motion the induced draught is sufficiently powerful to suck up the paper, and to bear it through a special conduit to be discharged into a convenient receptacle, whence it may be removed to the baling press.
This plant, known as the Hoyle refuse-recovery installation, after its inventor and designer, Mr. H. P. Hoyle, is extremely efficient. Simplicity is the outstanding feature, while its operation is economical and requires only the minimum of labour. So far as power is concerned a single 10 horse-power electric motor suffices for all operations. The capital cost has also been kept down, the price of the complete plant being from £1,500 to £2,000—$7,500 to $10,000. At this figure the installation of the system should prove distinctly profitable, more especially in conjunction with one or two auxiliary appliances which offer the means to enhance the market value of the recovered materials, although they are not essential. For instance, an appreciable proportion of the tins thrown into the dust-bin are in a bright condition and free from rust. Such tins can be made to yield so much crude tin plate for the production of further tins, instead of being subjected to the less economic process of crushing, baling, and detinning or transference to the furnaces in billet form to be melted down.
A special type of machine has been evolved whereby the tops and bottoms of the bright recovered tins can be cut off. The resultant cylinder is then cut through on either side of the original seam, and the sheet pressed out to form a flat plate. The eliminated joint, of course, is set on one side to be treated for the recovery of the solder, while the small pieces of tin find their way to the scrap-metal bin. The sheets of bright tin which are thus recovered, and which are quite equal to new tin-plate, command a ready sale, because they can be restamped into smaller flat tins for packing boot polishes and similar commodities extensively retailed in this form. The process is simple, rapid, and can be made profitable.
Rusted tins require to be treated in a different manner. Some corporations merely crush them flat to facilitate and to cheapen transport, selling them in bulk to firms who specialize in the handling of such product. However, it is a matter for investigation, when such tins are recoverable from the garbage in appreciable quantities, as to whether it would not prove more remunerative to the local authorities to deal with the tins themselves. A furnace is required to burn off the tin-dirt and to recover the solder. The tin itself, representing about 1 per cent., is lost, although there are processes in operation for its reclamation. The receptacles may then be crushed and baled into billets for which an hydraulic press is necessary. A plant capable of making a bale measuring 24 × 14 × 6 inches is well-adapted to this duty. The solder is in demand, while the plate is worth from £3—$15—upwards per ton as scrap metal. At this figure the local authorities would undoubtedly find it far more profitable to incur the extra expense and labour involved to prepare the billets rather than to dispose of the tins in their crude form. When the quantity is heavy direct sale to the steel-works is possible and the middleman’s profit diverted to the benefit of the ratepayers.
Paper should also be baled for reasons of transport. Either hand or power appliances may be used, but unless the quantity likely to be handled is pronounced, the hand-operated machine will be found adequate for the task. Of course, it must be admitted that, to-day, prices for the recovered materials rule somewhat high. Consequently it may be averred by critics that, whereas such auxiliaries might be perfectly justifiable under conditions such as now prevail, they would fail to show an equally satisfactory result in normal circumstances.
But it must not be forgotten that prices are steadily rising all round. Accepted raw materials are costing more, labour is more expensive, and the tendency in both directions is still in the ascendant. But even should prices and costs droop, it must not be forgotten that such a movement would be attended by the utilization of greater quantities of the articles concerned. They would be recoverable from the garbage in greater volume, and then it would be possible to keep the plants running to their full capacities for no heavier operative or overhead costs. Consequently, in the long run the disposal of enhanced quantities of tins, either as “bright” or scrap, at a lower figure, would probably prove more profitable in the aggregate than treating a limited supply, such as obtains under stringent economic conditions, at a high figure.
How does a recovery plant of the foregoing description work out in practice? This is the vital question. Upon this point it is possible to advance some interesting figures. An investigation of the domestic refuse problem as it affects the country as a whole has revealed the circumstance of the contents of the dust-bin being tolerably consistent, whether it be drawn from a residential or manufacturing town, from the East-end or from the West-end, from the city or from the suburb. On the basis of the analysis set forth elsewhere in this chapter, and taking for our illustration a metropolitan suburb having a population of 85,000 souls contributing 100 tons of refuse a day, the possible recovery of by-products comes out as follows:—
| Material. | Tons per Day. | Price per Ton. | Total Value. | ||
|---|---|---|---|---|---|
| Fertilizer prepared from fine dust and pulverized debris from washer and picking belt | £ s. d. | $ | £ s. d. | $ | |
| 65 | 0 1 0 | 0.25 | 3 5 0 | 16.25 | |
| Cinders | 25 | 0 10 0 | 2.50 | 12 10 0 | 62.50 |
| Tins and metal | 2 | 4 0 0 | 20.00 | 8 0 0 | 40.00 |
| Paper (unsorted, dirty) | 1 | 7 0 0 | 35.00 | 7 0 0 | 35.00 |
| Rags | 0·5 | 15 0 0 | 75.00 | 7 10 0 | 37.50 |
| Glass | 0·5 | 2 0 0 | 10.00 | 1 0 0 | 5.00 |
| Gross total per day | £39 5 0 | $196.25 | |||
The foregoing figures may be accepted as moderate. Thus the cinders, with a heating value equal to five-sevenths of that of good steam coal, are priced at 10s.—$2.50—per ton. But, as experience has proved, they readily command 14s.—$3.50—per ton, providing, in their washed condition, a first-class, clean, cheap and economical fuel for the poorer classes of the community. At 10s.—$2.50—per ton they are equal to coal costing 14s.—$3.50—per ton, at which price such fuel is absolutely impossible to-day. Even coke cannot be purchased at double the figure. In other words, by buying washed cinders at the prices quoted the purchaser is receiving a fuel equal, if not superior, to contemporary household coal costing 35s. to 50s.—$7 to $10—per ton.
Again, the tins are assessed at a low scrap-metal value. Probably 50 per cent. of the tins rescued from the dust-bin to-day coincide with the term “bright,” and thus would pay to turn into tin-plate. The quotation for this material ignores the value of the solder, as well as that ruling for other metals, such as brass and copper, and of which far more is recovered from the ash-barrel than may be popularly imagined. The figure given, moreover, represents the official price, but since the removal of control scrap-metal has recorded higher quotations. So far as the other materials are concerned the prices may be taken as representative.
On the above showing of £39 5s.—$196.25—per day the plant gives a gross return, in round figures, of £235—$1,175—for a six-day week, or £11,775—$58,875—for a 300-day year. Allowing £5,000—$25,000—a liberal figure—for the annual operation of the plant, the sum of £6,775—$33,875—remains—the net return from the realization of some of the utilitarian material recovered from the dust-bins into which 85,000 people throw what they consider to be useless during the course of the year. Truly may it be said that the average member of the public has but little, if any, idea of the wealth he allows to slip through his hands as a result of carelessness or lack of knowledge. Again, when it is reflected that, for the most part, the whole of such potential wealth as this has been permitted to vanish in smoke, or if incombustible to be kicked from pillar to post, we certainly cannot complain when accused of deplorable extravagance.
So far as the capital expenditure of a plant, such as is set forth above, is concerned, this may be set down at £1,000 to £1,500—$5,000 to $7,500. If for such a paltry expenditure a net revenue of £6,775—$33,875—can be secured during the course of the year, surely the moment has arrived when we ought to put our civic and municipal houses in order. Granting that prices to-day are abnormal, and reducing the net return by 50 per cent., even at £3,387—$16,935—per annum, which may be taken as a safe assumption, a plant of this description is able to pay its way within a short time after its installation, after making even the most liberal allowances for capital charges, interest, and depreciation.
The Hoyle system is one which should make a powerful appeal to the small communities, which, at the moment, are deficient in any system of garbage disposal other than open dumping. It has the governing virtue of being extremely flexible, being as readily applicable to the small town, numbering only a few thousand—even hundreds—of inhabitants as to the teeming city of a million or more souls. The financial outlay involved is comparatively trivial for the results achieved, and varies according to the size, capacity, and completeness of the plant.
Should our smaller towns embrace the system the contributions to the searching problems of the moment would, in the aggregate, be decidedly startling. The materials thus recovered, turned into the proper channels, would go a long way towards relieving the strains which are being experienced. The small town has a golden opportunity to demonstrate to the larger communities how things should be done. For the most part it is not saddled with a costly, so-called hygienic, destructor. The science of turning the contents of the dust-bin to commercial advantage is one offering possibilities too numerous to mention and might even lead to the establishment of local industries. Nothing organic or inorganic possessed of any utilitarian value need be lost.
On the other hand the city is not in such a fortunate position. It will have to forget a good deal of what it has assimilated in connection with the disposal of the contents of the ash-barrel. A change-over from the old to the new method must inevitably occupy time, especially as those two dragging chains which always retard the march of progress—prejudice and conservatism—have first to be released. Nevertheless, as destruction of domestic waste by fire superseded dumping upon open land, so must incineration, in turn, give way to the latest demands of science and the immutable economic law. The dust destructor never could possibly be construed into a scientific solution of the problem: it has no constructional or creative value, except of a nuisance in the form of accumulations of clinker. Even primitive dumping upon the land did possess the distinct advantage of benefiting the soil over which it was distributed. When the latest idea for recovering and exploiting the by-products of the dust-bin achieves the vogue which it deserves, land and industry will profit to the benefit of the community and of the country.
Naturally, certain local authorities, notoriously opposed to progressive development, will seek to stop the tide by belittling the new policy. They have become so firmly wedded to the destructor in which so much of the ratepayers’ money has been sunk as to be blind to improvement. They will continue still to waste money in supporting their fetish, strenuously declining to honour the axiom that it is often cheaper to cut the loss.
In the absence of willingness to jettison the old and to adopt the new, the pressure of compulsion should be applied. Local authorities must be prevented from continuing to squander potential resources of raw material. Alternatively, the exploitation of the despised dust-bin should be brought within the reach of private enterprise, which should be extended every encouragement. Other nations have always regarded our much-vaunted dust destructor as the high-road to waste. It has never found any pronounced favour beyond the confines of Britain. Have our rivals been wiser than we?
An interesting commentary upon this somewhat inexplicable predisposition to destruction by fire is offered by the experience of the city of San Francisco. In 1896 the city granted a fifty years’ franchise for the provision of a destructor for the disposal of household refuse to a private party. “This destructor,” remarks the city engineer in a communication to myself, “is the second, and last, example of the Thackery furnace and arrangement, the first having been built in Montreal, Canada, the previous year (1895).”
This plant has passed through somewhat strange vicissitudes. In 1910 it was purchased, together with the franchise, by the city authorities for £70,000—$350,000. It was then leased to a private party, under privilege, in return for an annual payment of £3,700—$18,500—5 per cent. upon the purchase price. During the early months of 1918, owing to the great increase in wages and other costs of operation, the lessee relinquished his lease, so that it was thrown back upon the hands of the city authorities. It was then taken in hand by the Scavengers’ Association under permit from the city, by whom it is at present being run at a cost of about 4s.—$1—a ton for the 375 to 380 tons of refuse collected daily by the scavengers.
But the city authorities are not impressed with this method of disposing of the contents of the ash-barrels of its citizens. “During the past year or two,” continues the city engineer in the communication already quoted, “we have become more than ever impressed with the wrong of unnecessary waste and have been making special study of our conditions and the means of improving them. Ordinances for segregation at the source, and collection of all, both garbage and rubbish, are now under action by the Board of Supervisors—the governing body of the city—and specifications are being prepared and bids asked upon the same for the collection and disposal of garbage and rubbish.
“It is specially provided that all proposals shall be based on a recognition of the need of conservation and the recovery of all values to the point of balance between profit and loss. It is expected that the garbage from households will amount to upwards of 100 tons daily, and that it will be attractive to hog-raisers.”
CHAPTER X
LIVING ON WASTE
War is Hell. So said Sherman, and it is a verdict with which the whole world will agree. But war is also a powerful educating force. If any convincing testimony upon this point were required we have only to reflect upon the effective manner in which the recent European conflagration caused the British nation to revise its methods and practices. The stress of war, ravages by submarines, depletion of transport facilities by sea, road, and rail, and the shortage of crops and labour, compelled the community to consider the food question in a light totally different from that with which it was regarded during the days of cheapness and plenty. We were forced to digest lessons which under normal conditions we would have ignored in contempt. Whether the changes wrought in our complex social and commercial life are destined to be permanent in character is another question, but the continuation of high prices is tending to consummate this end, the process being assisted by the reflection that the good old days are destined never to return, at least not for many years to come.
In the previous chapter I have recounted how the engineer is now striving to conserve rather than to destroy what we throw to one side as of no further use. By inventive ingenuity he is endeavouring to bring home to our local authorities how to extract further utilitarian value from what the household discards. The question immediately arises as to what extent this tendency towards preservation and construction, as opposed to destruction and loss, is being supported in a practical manner by the authorities concerned.
It is to be feared that, considered on the whole, the seeds which are being sown are falling on barren ground. However, here and there our civic and municipal authorities, especially those who evince a distinct pride in being numbered among the pioneers of progress, are fully alive to the possibilities of the problem, and are leaving no stone unturned, nor sparing any exertion, to bring home to the public at large that refuse is merely matter in the wrong place. In some instances this reversion to rigid economical methods is not of modern record, the practice of salvage or recovery of abandoned products having been practised along more or less comprehensive lines, as indicated by scientific thought, for many years past.
The city of Glasgow is able to point to a convincing record of what can be achieved in this direction. In the years 1908-9 the fathers of the progressive Scottish city derived £41,000—$205,000—from this source, while during the ten years ending 1918 what is commonly regarded as rubbish and useless has been induced to yield no less than £50,300—$251,500. Surely what can be achieved in one city is equally possible of attainment in every other community throughout the British Isles to a greater or lesser degree!
Glasgow has evolved its own organization for retrieving and utilising the city refuse and in accordance with the conditions which obtain in the locality. Speaking generally, the system may be described as one of separating the saleable from the unsaleable. Previous to the year 1917 efforts were devoted mainly to the preparation of fertiliser from the contents of the domestic dust-bin, as well as the recovery of tins, but, owing to the high prices which other so-called waste was commanding, and in deference to the national appeal towards greater economy, the reclamation of other materials was taken in hand with highly gratifying results.
The refuse of the city is collected in the usual manner and conveyed to the depot. It is weighed upon receipt. It is then dispatched up an inclined roadway to a tipping floor, where the vehicles discharge their loads through shoots. Beneath the latter are disposed horizontal revolving riddles of conical form. The fine refuse and cinders escape through the grids, but the bulky material is carried forward to be ejected on to a travelling conveyor.
The ashes and cinders which fall through the open mesh of the first riddles are caught by a second and stationary screen. The mesh of this sieve being finer only allows the dust to escape to fall into a mixing machine. Here it is combined with a regulated quantity of excrementitious matter drawn from an overhead tank. The materials are thoroughly blended, and the mixture ultimately falls direct into railway wagons. In this way all intermediate handling is obviated. This material constitutes a first-class fertilizing agent, is keenly sought by farmers, and accordingly meets with a ready sale.
The cinders, arrested by the secondary stationary screen, are collected in a similar manner. They are not sold, but dumped into the bunkers of the works to fire the boilers, thereby assisting materially in the generation of the power necessary to drive the plant.
The bulkier material remaining in the revolving conical grid is discharged on to a conveyor. While being moved forward all material of value, such as waste-paper, tins, scrap-metal, waste-food, rags, bones, glass and so on are picked off by hand to be thrown into bins. The manual labour employed to carry out this task of segregation may be considered to be an adverse cost factor. But against this expenditure for separation by hand must be set that formerly entailed in the destruction or other disposal of this material. Accordingly, all things considered, it may be accepted that the revenue derived from this source virtually represents money saved.
In addition to the recovery of paper from the above-mentioned refuse the Cleansing Department also maintains a special service for the collection of such waste from offices, warehouses, and private residences throughout the city area. This procedure has been in operation for many years, but, owing to the scarcity of paper encountered during the war, and the need which consequently arose to display accentuated enterprise in this direction, an auxiliary collecting service was inaugurated. It was conducted by the members of the Women’s Volunteer Reserve, who received a percentage of the profits arising from the sale of the waste-paper thus gathered.
So far as the waste-metal—light scrap, tins, and other odds and ends of a metallic nature—is concerned this was formerly sold in the form of detinned compressed billets. Under the present contract this is delivered to the contractor in the condition in which it is received. But it is quite possible that, at some future date, there may be a reversion to the baling process which formerly obtained. In view of this fact it has been deemed advisable to bale a certain proportion of the recovered metal merely in order to maintain the hydraulic compressing plant in good working conditions. The practice is to separate and to classify metallic material under one or other of six headings—bright tins, galvanized metal, light iron (black), cast iron, enamelled ware, and burned tins respectively.
While the Cleansing Department hitherto has not devoted any attention to the recovery of garbage from the refuse for conversion into pig-food, it is possible that this issue may be undertaken at a future date. The authorities have the suggestion under serious consideration with a view to its adoption.
The clinker question commands the attention of the Glasgow authorities, as it does all other communities equipped with facilities for carrying out refuse destruction by incineration. But, so far as this city is concerned, the problem does not bristle with perplexity as is invariably the case. The residuum from the furnaces of the Corporation works is mechanically screened into five varying grades, to meet the requirements of contractors who find it eminently adapted to their particular needs. No difficulty has yet been experienced in regard to the disposal of this article, a ready sale always having prevailed for the stocks available.
That the reclamation of the utilitarian contents of the domestic dust-bin is distinctly remunerative to the Glasgow civic authorities is reflected from a perusal of the revenue derived from the recovery and disposal of the city’s refuse during the year ended May 31, 1918. The sales’ record is as follows:—
| Materials. | £ s. d. | $ |
|---|---|---|
| Waste-paper | 8,993 14 5 | 44,969 |
| Old tins, light iron, etc. | 2,684 17 9 | 13,425 |
| Clinker | 718 10 10 | 3,592 |
| Sundries | 72 14 5 | 363 |
| Total | £12,469 17 5 | $62,349 |
To the above total there remains to be added the revenue derived from the sale of the prepared manure, arising from the admixture of the finely-screened dust and excremental material. This realized £6,718 17s. 8d.—$33,594—bringing the grand total to £19,188 15s. 1d.—$95,943. In this return the cinders are totally ignored, but, seeing that they constitute a highly serviceable fuel, the saving in the coal-bill, which their use secured, should be taken into consideration.
It is necessary to explain that, inasmuch as the thorough separation of the material is only of recent date, previous operations having been confined to the recovery of paper, old metal and the preparation of the fertilizer as already mentioned, the item “Sundries” cannot extend any criterion as to the results now being recorded, nor of the revenue derived from the recovery and disposal of the additional articles.
The successful conversion of the volume of dust, comprising about 50 per cent. of the aggregate, into a marketable fertiliser, offers a satisfactory solution of a complex and perplexing problem. But when the dust is coarser and yet deficient in “bite” or gritty characteristic, its disposal is not so readily consummated because its possible applications are thereby severely narrowed down in number.
Speaking generally, the utilization of the fine dust may be said to present a vexatious question. While it forms an excellent ingredient for a compounded fertilizer, it is not a simple matter to discover an inexpensive, and preferably second, refuse constituent of approved manurial value with which to associate it. The majority of the ingredients advocated as complying with the desired requirement possess too high an independent fertilizing value for such an application. In itself the dust is of very low soil-feeding power, and so active investigation is being pursued in anticipation of the discovery of a satisfactory adjustment to this question.
Another enterprising illustration of what can be achieved with domestic, office and warehouse refuse, both organic and inorganic, is extended by the Port of Liverpool. Here, again, the developments to be recorded in this connection are not attributable to the war, although the last-named factor was responsible for the conduct of the reclamatory process upon a more intensive scale. Liverpool is somewhat peculiarly situated among the importing centres of the United Kingdom seeing that it is probably the largest distributing centre for American foodstuffs for this country. Consequently, as is only to be expected, very considerable quantities of food which have suffered such damage during transit or demurrage as to become unfit for human consumption have to be handled. Under the old régime all organic waste of this character was either consigned right away to the destructor, or was perfunctorially treated to be sold as manure. Neither science nor brains was displayed in its disposal. The shortest way out of the difficulty was accepted as being the most effective in the public interests. But Liverpool was not the only port to follow such summary practice. It was common to all ports of the country in greater or lesser degree. The public loses heavily from the observance of such deprecatory measures, especially when it is borne in mind that such traffic runs into tens of thousands of tons during the course of the year. But under pre-war conditions, owing to the plentitude of supplies and the wide distribution of the losses incurred, the financial effect was scarcely felt by the unit of the population.
During the war a loud wail went up because a number of hams and a quantity of bacon had been found in a decomposed condition at a certain port. Had this occurred during pre-war days not a word would have found its way into the public press, and the destructor alone would have known of the incident. But because under war conditions the public was directly affected—was clamouring for this particular article of food—the wastage was declared to be intolerable. Fortunately, in this instance, owing to our having become more enlightened, the spoiled food was not totally lost. The fat was reclaimed, while the residue was turned to its most profitable account.
At Liverpool, as at other centres where a vigilant eye is maintained upon the clock of progress, it was speedily discovered that the methods of handling such refuse were distinctly deprecatory. It was decided to introduce improved practice. One material was treated as an experiment, and the process was found to be profitable. Gradually other condemned articles of food were taken in hand. This logical development of salvage was continued, until to-day there is very little material entering into the composition of the Liverpool dust-bin which does not find some one or other useful application.
It was learned from studied investigation that waste-food products collected with the refuse of the city might be classified into five broad divisions, namely butchers’ and fishmongers’ offal, damaged fruit and vegetables, damaged eggs, damaged canned foods, such as meat, fish, milk and so forth, as well as warehouse sweepings. Over and above this assortment, of course, came the miscellany to be found in every ash-bin drawn from the home. To ensure the receipt of the offal from tradesmen a special and separate collection from all retail shops dealing in fish and greengrocery was inaugurated. Subsequently, to prevent the wastage of swill suitable for the sustenance of pigs, a special collection from private houses was introduced.
In every city the isolation of the swill from the general material consigned to the dust-bin though freely urged is a somewhat difficult issue to carry into practice. Segregation at the source is imperative to ensure the maximum results being attained. But the Liverpool authorities overcome the obstacle very satisfactorily. The residents were notified of the intention of the department charged with this duty, while officials were detailed to visit and to explain to residents the proposals, and to extend advice upon what, and what should not, be thrown into the dust-bin. Moreover, the City Fathers undertook to provide each house with a special receptacle for the swill, and to collect it at frequent intervals. Experience proved that collection twice a week sufficed to meet every requirement.
But, as a rule, when the suggestion is made that local authorities should provide special receptacles for swill, demur is made on the plea that such a procedure must entail further capital expenditure. Yet it can be carried out along very inexpensive lines if attacked in the proper spirit. So far as Liverpool has been concerned it was even found possible to turn a waste article to such account. Among the flotsam and jetsam sent to the corporation depots for disposal were thousands of tins measuring 9 × 9 × 13 inches, originally used for the conveyance of oil to this country. Examination revealed the circumstance that these discarded receptacles could readily be converted into swill-pails, their dimensions and construction admirably adapting them to such a duty. Forthwith they were cleaned, one or two minor alterations carried out, and then painted. The cost of adaptation was less than 1s.—25 cents—per tin. These were then issued to the residents who expressed readiness to co-operate with the efforts of the authorities, and proved a complete success. It has often been advanced by local authorities that the residents will never collaborate in such schemes of segregation at the source, declining to be bothered, but the experience gained at Liverpool does not support such a contention. The inhabitants of the city astride the Mersey responded very promptly to the request to save and segregate their swill, the result being that enormous accumulations of potential and valuable pig-food were secured.
Swill supplies being assured, the next step was to handle this waste at the depot, and to prepare it for the piggeries. The City Engineer, Mr. John A. Brodie, M.Inst.C.E., advanced a complete solution to this problem and along economical lines. A number of old pitch boilers and other plant was lying idle at the depot. This was turned out, overhauled, rigged up and coupled up to the steam generating equipment of the destructor. The household swill was cooked in these vessels, and in this manner a first-class pig-food was produced. To ensure the consumption of the swill thus obtained the Corporation installed its own piggeries and poultry runs upon its farms. The swill, while still hot, was conveyed to the piggeries in the municipal motor wagons and doled out. Private pig-raisers were also at liberty to obtain the swill in the heated condition if they cared to fetch it. This facility was readily accepted, inasmuch as it saved the pig-keepers the trouble and time of conducting collection from houses in the conventional manner and then boiling it upon their farms for their animals.
Continuous development of the reclamation of waste problem has been the policy of the Liverpool civic authorities. Satisfied with the pecuniary and other results attending their initial efforts the City Engineer installed an inexpensive and complete plant working upon the Scott system, described in another chapter, for the full reclamation of the material contained in the city refuse. It was laid down at the central depot primarily to treat the meat, fish, and other organic offal, increasing quantities of which were forthcoming. The plant in question comprises a digester, dryer, vacuum pump, disintegrator and fat tanks. Electric drive is employed throughout, the necessary power being drawn from the municipal generating station.
The digester, made of steel, 7 feet long by 3 feet in diameter, is of sufficient capacity to receive one ton of refuse at a time, and works at a pressure of 60 lb. It is charged from the top and emptied from the bottom. It works upon the jacket principle, and the necessary steam may be admitted both at the top and bottom as desired. Top and bottom cocks are fitted for drawing off all fatty and oily liquid for the fat tanks, and also to draw off the liquor. About four hours are required to treat the charge.
The vacuum dryer is a drum, 4 feet 6 inches deep by 5 feet in diameter, and is also able to receive a charge of one ton. Top and bottom facilities, for charging and emptying respectively, are provided. Within the vessel rotating blades are disposed to keep the contents in agitation during treatment, these blades making about 25 revolutions per minute. All foul gases arising during the process are drawn off by a vacuum pump, and are led to the furnaces to be consumed, thereby being rendered innocuous before escaping into the atmosphere.
The disintegrator is a cast-iron cylinder provided with a continuous automatic feed. Within the vessel are set a number of steel arms which run at a very high speed—about 2,500 revolutions per minute—which break up and thoroughly disintegrate the refuse introduced until it is able to pass through the meshes of the screen placed at the bottom of the machine.
The process is very simple. The refuse is dumped into the digester which, upon being filled, is sealed. Steam is turned on, and the resultant cooking releases all the oleaginous constituents of the contents, which are floated off through the cock to be led to the fat-recovery tanks. The cooking is continued until the raw waste has shed every drop of recoverable oil and grease. The digester is then emptied, pressed, and the cooked material passed to the dryer to be dried, thence to the disintegrator to be pulverized or ground to the required degree of fineness.
The fatty and oil liquors drawn from the digester fall into a tank, and the fat and grease collecting on the surface are skimmed off to be passed to a lower tank. All tanks are kept at a certain degree of temperature by means of a steam-heated coil. The fat and oil reclaimed in this manner are subsequently treated for their yield of glycerine, the final residue entering into the preparation of soap and other articles.
The solid residues recovered from the disintegrator, representing the fibres from the meat, fish offal and other solid matter, constitute an excellent poultry food. According to the analyses which have been made it is rich in the albuminoids and phosphates.
While the foregoing naturally represents the foremost and greatest phase of salvage activity pursued by the Liverpool Corporation it by no means exhausts their efforts in this direction. Other refuse is recovered and treated for some one or other specific commercial purpose. All bones are collected, washed, and boiled to secure the fat, the solid matter afterwards being ground into meal. Vegetable refuse, of which large quantities are forthcoming, especially from the markets, are dried and stored, having been found useful as a constituent for poultry foods. Fish, both offal and unsold inedible surplus, is converted directly into fertilizer. Wooden refuse, recovered from dust-bins and other sources, is heated at low temperature to allow carbonization for sale as charcoal. Large quantities of straw, both clean and soiled, are also brought in, being recovered from packing-cases and crates. The clean straw is segregated to be chopped finely, and as such meets with a ready sale among poultry-raisers because it constitutes a very effective scratching material. The dirty straw, together with soiled paper and old wooden boxes incapable of other treatment, as well as other light refuse, are burned in a special furnace which has been installed, care being observed to collect the ash. As the latter contains approximately 12 per cent. potash it forms a first-class fertilizer. Banana stalks are likewise rich in potash, and so, by submitting the stalks, large quantities of which are forthcoming from the fruit markets under normal conditions, to a special treatment, this potash is recovered and is turned over to the soap-makers. Oyster shells are washed, calcined, and then ground for sale as grit to poultry-raisers.
Damaged and condemned eggs are frequently received in large quantities from the docks, warehouses and wholesale establishments. One consignment numbered no fewer than a quarter of a million. Instead of being used as fuel for the destructor, these eggs are boiled, then chopped, dried and together with the shells are finely ground into meal for use as chicken food.
Consignments of ham and bacon are often received in heavy quantities at times from the docks. This inedible food is submitted to treatment to secure the various commercial by-products such as oil and grease, the residue being ground up into meal.
From the foregoing it will be realized that Liverpool is not permitting much waste of any commercial character to find its way to the incinerator. The wise policy now being pursued is bearing fruit. The prices which have been, and still are being, realized, render the trouble and effort expended well worth while. The meal made from fish offal, after the extraction of the oil, has fetched as much as £25—$125—per ton, while the butchers’ offal, after similar treatment, has commanded an equally satisfactory price. Even the refuse gathered from the households of the city, and capable of being turned into poultry-meal, which exceeds 20 tons a week, is promptly sold at prices ranging up to £15—$75—per ton. The possibilities attending systematic collection from private residences have also been conclusively established, and at the moment the Corporation is gathering a round 1,000 tons of such waste from certain houses in the course of the year. Reclaimed tins, after being washed and dried, have realized up to £8—$40—per ton, while, to meet the enhanced request for organic manure, an excellent fertilizer is being prepared from certain materials which come into the hands of the authorities, or accrue from the practice of waste-reclaiming. The Corporation are able to dispose of this fertilizer with comparative ease at the rate of 50,000 tons during the year.
Other towns are able to point to comparable achievements in connection with the exploitation of waste incurred within their areas. Some of the small communities are even able to produce some startling records in this connection. If all our civic and municipal authorities could be brought into line and raised to the productive level of Glasgow or Liverpool, the cumulative benefits to the nation would be enormous and far reaching. But, as yet, only a fraction of what might be secured is being turned to useful account. For instance, it is computed that 3,000 tons of first-class pig-food could be recovered from London alone every week—this in itself would show a heavy yield of fats and greases if properly treated—but at present it is being wasted.
Merely because foodstuffs—meat, fish, eggs, fruit, and other commodities innumerable of a perishable nature—are condemned as being unfit for the service of man, that is not to say they have completed their mission in the scheme of things ordained by a so-called high civilization. Doubtless they assist in the manufacture of excellent paving-stones, but although we are in dire need of houses and this is the concrete age, that is not a sufficiently reasonable excuse for withdrawing nitrogenous products from the cycle of Nature.
CHAPTER XI
POTATO WASTE AS AN ASSET TO INDUSTRY
The potato has entered so intimately into our domestic life as to be regarded as indispensable to the human dietary. Whether its food value be exaggerated or otherwise, the fact remains that, speaking generally, it now ranks second to wheat in the estimation of the bread-eating nations. A potato-less dinner-table would create more dismay than one from which the familiar roll is missing, while some of us may even recall the widespread misery which was provoked in Ireland during the black years of 1845 and 1846 from the failure of the potato crop. The succulent tuber has achieved such a high estate among the community as to be deemed capable of taking the place of the cereal associated with the staff of life should exigencies so demand.
In view of such extreme popularity it is not surprising to find the potato cultivated extensively in the British Islands to serve essentially as a foodstuff for both man and beast. No allotment-holder would consider his endeavours to be complete without the inclusion of this vegetable in his gardening programme. As illuminative of the grip which the cult of the potato has secured upon the amateur son of Adam it may be mentioned that the allotment-holders of England and Wales raised a round 1,000,000 tons of this tuber, for the most part upon 10-rod plots, during the year 1918. Many farmers now regard it as the backbone to their agricultural endeavours, especially in those parts of the country where the soil conditions are particularly favourable to its easy and prolific cultivation.
Yet, in our use of the potato, we are extremely wasteful. We lose or discard at least one-third of what we grow. It is estimated that 25 per cent. of the value of a crop is lost to the farmer in cartage, carriage, clamping, bagging, marketing, and grading. This figure does not take into account the circumstance that only the cream of the crop—the ware potato—is set aside for human consumption, for which, of course, the maximum price is demanded. Neither does it refer to the losses incurred from the ravages of diseases, which, while varying according to the soil and weather conditions, are always material. An appreciable proportion of this loss and waste might be avoided were the practice of storage by clamping superseded by a method more in accordance with contemporary thought.
A further loss, even in connection with those set aside for the table, is incurred in the preparation of the vegetable. Peeling, as a rule, is clumsily and perfunctorily performed, “spud drill” being considered as one of the drudgeries of domestic life, because a pronounced portion of the edible flesh is removed with the skin, eyes and other unsightly or inedible parts. The extent of this loss varies with the size of the tuber and the carelessness or skill of the peeler. Consequently it may vary from 10 to 30 per cent. or even more.
What is done with the peelings? For the most part, notably in towns and cities, they suffer cremation, either at the destructor, via the dust-bin, or in the kitchen stove. But potato-peelings constitute an expensive fuel. The rural resident is generally more thrifty. He throws the peelings into the swill-tub for pig-food, or husbands them to boil and to blend with grain offal to sustain his poultry-run, but the quantity thus turned to economic account is really an insignificant proportion of the whole. Quite 600,000 tons of potato offal are destroyed in ignorance during the year—a deliberate wastage of valuable raw material.
The growers’ losses are equally startling, more particularly in clamping. The tubers afflicted with disease meet with instant rejection and destruction. Even the balance of good and sound tubers, remaining after the selection of the ware and seed grades, is utilized along the most wasteful lines, being regarded as fit for cattle only.
The farmer is not to be blamed for such extravagant use of the proportion of his crop which fails to rise to the high standard set for the table. He has not been enlightened either in regard to the constitution of the potato or its potential industrial uses. Even if he be cognizant of these factors he cannot more profitably exploit his surplus owing to the absence of all facilities to such an end.
Of what is the potato composed? Here is the result of an average analysis:—
| Per cent. | |
|---|---|
| Fat | 0.3 |
| Cellulose | 1 |
| Mineral matter | 1 |
| Dextrine and pectose | 2 |
| Fibrin and albumen | 2.3 |
| Starch | 17 |
| Water | 75 |
| Waste | 1.4 |
The term “waste” included in the above table in reality is somewhat misplaced, as I explain later. The starch content is also a variable factor. While one analysis may show a percentage of only 15, another will yield a figure exceeding 18 per cent. Consequently that quoted may be accepted as representative.
Familiarity with the chemical composition of the humble potato prompted the Germans to regard it from two distinct view-points. The one, as in these islands, concerned its food potentialities; the second took into consideration its possible application as a raw material for several industries, such as the manufacture of alcohol, starch, glucose, dextrine, and other articles of commerce. Consequently, potato quotations upon the Teuton markets were dual and distinct. The one price, which was the higher, related to produce intended for the table, while the second, and lower, governed its industrial use.
The provision of two separate markets for the commodity produced the inevitable result. Farmers were assured of lucrative prices for their crop set aside for edible use, while the second market absorbed practically the whole of what was not required to satisfy the first-named demand, and that at an attractive figure. Accordingly, there was every inducement to bring more and more acres under the tuber, which led to the reclamation of poor soils regarded as utterly useless for general agriculture.
But the encouragement thus extended wrought many other far-reaching benefits. To persuade the poor soils devoted to the culture of the potato to become fertile led to an increased demand for artificial fertilizers, and provided a big domestic outlet for the native potash. The farmers were enlightened as to the many virtues possessed by such manures and were urged to use them liberally. The potash deposits were not the only home resources to enjoy prosperity from such propaganda. The steel industry reaped a certain measure of profit, because the land offered an encouraging market for the enormous accumulations of basic slag arising from the working in steel. Then the alcohol derived from the potato assisted other industries, notably that concerned with the manufacture of coal-tar dyestuffs. From this it will be seen that the increased production of the potato, and its submission to the most economic processes, exercised a repercussive effect in various directions.
It was the pursuit of this policy which enabled Germany to raise 54,000,000 tons of potatoes a year. Of this enormous yield approximately 30,000 tons were used to feed other industries with essential raw materials. The energy displayed by the farmer resulted in the supply exceeding the demand, so it became necessary to devise measures to cope with the glut to avoid the grower, from the receipt of absurdly low prices, being discouraged. The German farmer does not favour clamping: he desires to dispose of his product immediately it is gathered. With such an enormous output this tendency proved an awkward obstacle. The auxiliary industries planned their operations upon a twelve months scale. That is to say, they naturally desired to work steadily the whole year round. The raw material from the soil came to hand in tidal waves, and inconveniently.
The problem of meeting these sudden seasonal surges provoked difficulty and dissatisfaction. The dependent industries acquired their requirements, which left a very large quantity of potatoes upon the growers’ hands. They could not hold them through the winter owing to the extreme susceptibility of this vegetable to injury from frost. The merchants were ready to accept delivery and to hold them in store against the calls of commerce, but only at a price which was so low as to leave the growers on the wrong side. The latter, dissatisfied, threatened retaliation in the form of curtailment of production. At this declaration the alcohol-distilling interests took alarm. To secure themselves against any shortage of raw material they decided to hasten to the farmers’ assistance, the merchants being ignored. The Alcohol Association and the Farmers’ Societies collaborated to perfect ways and means of saving the surplus both from destruction and the profiteering of the factors. The co-operation of the Government was also sought. The last-named assented to extend tangible aid and forthwith prizes to the value of £1,500—$7,500—were offered to stimulate inventive fertility. As a result of the various discussions it was decided that the most promising solution of the vital question would be to convert the potato into a dried product.
Inventive effort responded very promptly upon the narrowing down of the issue. As a result of searching tests two dehydrating methods were adopted. By these processes the potatoes are washed, cooked, dried, and reduced to a flake and shredded form respectively. The product from the first-named process is described as “flocken” from its flake-like character, while the second is called “schnitzel.” The latter is the cheaper process, the cost of dehydrating a ton of potatoes being about 4s.—$1.00—while the conversion of a ton of tubers into flocken costs 10s.—$2.50. However, the capital investment incurred with the machinery for producing schnitzel is higher than that for yielding the flake, and initial outlay being the most compelling feature it is the process which has been most widely adopted. In 1914 there were over 400 factories in operation converting the surplus potato crop into a dried form, of which about 75 per cent. followed the flocken method. But it does not matter which process is employed, the result is the same—the production of a dried potato pulp, capable of being kept indefinitely so long as it is protected against the ravages of damp, and which suffers no injury from frost. From this dehydrated potato it is possible to work up a cheap, excellent cattle-food.
The ability to render the potato into a convenient dry form at a low figure prompted other countries, notably Japan and the United States of America, to resort to similar methods, but to a different end. The potato is rich in carbohydrates, and this fact suggested the subsequent milling of the dry material into a flour, commercially known as “farina,” which has proved a conspicuous commercial success. The demand for this flour is expanding rapidly, because it serves as excellent material for the preparation of bun-flours, cake-flours, custard-powders, soups, and other foodstuffs, designed and marketed with the primary idea of lessening the worries and labours of the housewife.
Previous to the war the price for this imported article varied between £25 and £35—$125 and $175—per ton, the cost of production ranging from £14 to £20—$70 to $100—per ton. The margin of profit was sufficiently wide to warrant the development of the process. Under war conditions the price soared as high as £90—$450—per ton, but subsequently dropped to about £45-£50—$225-$250. A very marked diminution upon this latter figure is improbable, owing to the increased manufacturing costs which now rule.
Therefore the question arises as to whether Britain cannot turn the balance of her potato crop to greater commercial advantage. There is no reason why we should not do so, seeing that in 1913 we imported over 40,000 tons of farina, while in 1917 the value of our importation of this flour rose to £1,040,319—$5,201,595—for about 25,000 tons. It must be conceded, however, that under present conditions less scope exists for such a manifestation of enterprise in this country, seeing that our potato crop is only about one-tenth of what Germany normally raises. But the demand for the by-products in this country is every whit as heavy and sustained as in Germany, while the fact that in this raw material we have the base wherewith to revive an industry—the production of starch—which Germany wrenched from us by unscrupulous trading, alone should be sufficiently attractive to warrant such an attempt being made. Our consumption of starch is heavy, exceeding 50,000 tons a year, while our purchases of dextrine and unpotable methylic-alcohol, both of which can be made from the potato, run into £70,000—$350,000—apiece during the year. Even the industrial alcohol, despite the adverse taxation conditions which prevail, is in urgent demand for many new industries.
If we confine the issue to the farina we have a distinctly promising outlook. British inventive effort has been encouraged, and has evolved a process and product of this character which are immeasurably superior to those of the foreigner. To us the domestic manufacture of farina is of far wider significance than its mere mention might suggest, inasmuch as it would prove of far-reaching value as an ingredient to the loaf. As a matter of fact the authorities, in their resolve to grapple with the national food question, provisionally ear-marked 2,000,000 tons of the 1918 British potato crop for conversion into farina, to be blended with the domestic wheaten flour, to induce the supplies of the last-named to go farther. The conclusion of hostilities rendered this precautionary measure unnecessary.
In the eyes of many people the addition of potato-flour to wheaten flour for bread may seem reprehensible, and to savour of adulteration. Prejudice is a wellnigh insuperable obstacle to overcome. But in this instance such opposition is misplaced. The introduction of farina to the loaf cannot be regarded as an adulterant, substitute, or even a diluent. Rightly or wrongly, the potato is invested with a high food value: in some quarters it is even held to be an equivalent to the wheat flour. Doubtless opposition would arise from memories of the practice which obtained during the early days of the war. But the faults which were encountered then were due to the method and not to any shortcomings upon the part of the ingredient.
The utilization of the potato for the production of bread is not even a modern innovation. It really represents a revival of a long-since abandoned and wellnigh forgotten art. In the early years of the Victorian era our bakers were compelled to make resort to the potato as a constituent of the loaf. The home-grown wheat physiologically was not adapted to the making of bread, and the same argument applies more or less to the domestically grown cereal of these days. Normally, only a certain volume can be used; it has to be blended with imported flour to obtain the requisite percentage of gluten in which the domestic cereal is deficient. The bakers of a century ago used the potato to obtain the gluten content. With the availability of the more glutinous imported flour recourse to the potato declined, until finally the practice was abandoned.
The revival of the principle to meet the conditions of war proved a failure from the simple fact that the baker had lost his cunning, and was neither so clean nor so painstaking as his forbears in regard to his utensils and the handling of the tuber. The potato is particularly sensitive to contamination. Should an imperfectly-cleaned utensil be used the resultant bread will speedily sour. Moreover, the mashing of the potato was carried out very indifferently, while its admixture with the other constituents was still more unsatisfactorily fulfilled, with the result that the loaf was a spongy, unattractive, unappetizing, and indigestible mass of doubtful nutritive value.
If the potato be used in the farinaceous form no such objections can be levelled against the ultimate bread. The ingredients can be blended more completely. It is this circumstance which renders the outlook for the potato-flour so promising, and the British process which has been perfected for its production should meet with far more gratifying success.
The preparation of the farina is simple and straightforward. The potatoes are taken in hand immediately after they have been dug, and so are perfectly fresh. They are emptied into hoppers to pass to the washing machine. Then they proceed to the steam-cooker where, unpeeled, they are partially cooked. Finally they are conveyed to the flaking machine, where the first stage of the process is completed. The potato is passed between closely-set, internally-heated rollers, the pulp being rolled out into a continuous sheet about as thick as tissue paper. During this stage the cooking process is completed, while the product is dried and converted into a crisp substance which is peeled from the final roller to fall in a shower of tiny flakes into a trough. It will be observed that the skin, eyes, and other deleterious portions, from which all flesh has fallen away, is collected with the main product.
Cooking, pulping, and flaking expels practically the whole of the 75 per cent. of water entering into the composition of the raw potato. The secret of the process is the control of the temperature, which must be maintained at a critical level, to assure the perfection of the product. If this be excessive there is the risk of the flake becoming charred, while, similarly, should the heat fall below the predetermined point, the product will lack dryness and crispness. As may be imagined, the treatment reduces the bulk of the potato very perceptibly, 5 tons of potatoes being required to furnish 1 ton of flake.
The second process is of the conventional milling character, the flake being ground to an extremely fine consistency. During this process the skin and all other inedible portions are removed. It may be mentioned that by turning the tubers into flake, slightly diseased potatoes, which would be useless for the table, or which could only be wastefully adapted to such a purpose, may be used without imperilling the purity of the product in any way, and with the minimum of loss. The flaking process presents an absolutely sterilized flour, the diseased portions being removed during milling.
All offal is carefully collected to be treated separately. It has pronounced food value for cattle, and, consequently, is converted into a meal. The production of 1 ton of farina yields about 300 lb. of offal, worth about £20—$100—a ton. The farina itself is of very fine consistency, yellowish-white in colour, appetizing in appearance, of pleasing aroma, the distinctive fragrance of the potato being scarcely discernible, and, if preserved from the damp, may be kept indefinitely.
It is not imperative that the flake should be milled immediately. In the former condition the potato may be safely stored in bags in a dry place after the manner of grain. It is not even essential to turn it into farina at all. In the flake form it constitutes an excellent base for the other industries to which it may be applied. It may be distilled for the extraction of the alcohol, excellent whisky, as is doubtless well known, being made from the potato, while large quantities of British brandies are produced from the starch which, by treatment with weak sulphuric acid, is converted into glucose, which is then fermented. Thus, it will be seen, the flake really represents the starting-point for numerous applications, each of which has its individual commercial possibilities. The outstanding advantage accruing from the conversion of the potato into flake is that it enables the product to be kept indefinitely, without suffering the slightest deterioration, and without any waste being incurred. I have seen samples which have been stored for seven years, and which to-day are in every way as good as flake fresh from the machine.
In setting forth the composition of the succulent tuber I referred to the item waste, which in the analysis given stands at 1.4 per cent. This is the ultimate residue from certain operations, but is not common to all, as, for instance, in the production of farina, where everything of a solid nature is utilized. But in some branches of industrial use there results a residue for which, at present, no attractive purpose has been found, although there are hopes that even this insignificant fraction will ultimately prove capable of profitable exploitation.
Turning once more to the utilization of farina as a constituent of the loaf, we encounter a possible development which should play a very emphatic part towards rendering ourselves less dependent upon foreign sources of wheat supplies. A series of baking tests were conducted under ordinary commercial conditions. The farina was mixed with the wheat-flour in the proportion of 5 per cent. of the former to a sack of the latter. Government Regulation flour was employed. The sack contains 280 lb., so that the addition of the farina was equal to 14 lb. Seeing that the farina represents the potato in a highly concentrated form—5 to 1—the addition was really equal to 70 lb. of mashed potatoes—a degree to which no ordinary baker would be prepared to venture.
In the first test the bread was moulded by hand, and the sack produced 104 loaves, each weighing, ready for the oven, 2 lb. 3 oz., as compared with 94 loaves of equivalent weight normally obtained from the sack at this bakery. Under machine bread-making conditions, which obtained with the second test, and which was in accordance with the conventional practice of the firm in question, the yield from the blended flour, for technical reasons, was slightly lower, being 101 loaves, the weight of the loaf, ready for the oven, being the same as in the first experiment.
Baking was conducted at a temperature of 560 degrees, the loaves scaling barely 2 lb. 2 oz. upon withdrawal from the oven, and falling to 2 lb. net fifteen hours after baking. The bread was examined by experts who were present, and was declared to leave little or nothing to be desired. Judging from the public point of view it was held to be more attractive, owing to its increased volume, even texture, and perfect homogeneity, while it was found to be more digestible and satisfying.
In the hot condition the bread revealed only a slight trace of the peculiar fragrance of the potato, but this disappeared entirely upon cooling. The palate was unable to detect the potato-flour addition. The keeping qualities of this bread aroused particular comment. Four days after baking it was found to be still moist, while, upon the lapse of a fortnight, two loaves were rebaked and then found to be totally free from sourness. The striking success recorded was accepted by the expert opinion to be sufficiently conclusive: indeed, the suggestion was made that the proportion of farina might safely be increased to 7¹⁄₂ per cent. without allowing the presence of the potato to be detected. Tests were also carried out to determine the suitability of the potato-flour as an ingredient in the preparation of cakes and pastries. Here again the blended flour was unequivocally declared to yield better and more appetizing articles than was possible with pure wheaten flour.
But, taking the 5 per cent. addition as the figure coinciding with all-round requirements, it will be seen that the potato holds out great economic possibilities towards the reduction of the expense of the nation’s bread bill. During the year 1916 our consumption of flour totalled 37,000,000 sacks, of which approximately 12,000,000 sacks represented imported flour. Assuming that 30,000,000 sacks were devoted to the production of bread, the aggregate yield of loaves was approximately 2,820,000,000. Had we used home-produced farina from home-grown potatoes to the extent of 5 per cent. we could have reduced the foregoing consumption of the wheaten product by 1,500,000 sacks, and that without losing a single loaf. As a matter of fact we would have been better off, because, on the higher average yield of 101 loaves per sack to which farina has been added, we should have obtained 2,875,500,000 loaves—an increase of 55,500,000 loaves.
The economy possible from the more enterprising utilization of the potato in connection with our daily bread is so impressive as to command attention, even to-day. Presuming that the foregoing figures still hold good, the blending of 5 per cent. of native farina would save 200,000 tons of shipping per year. To supply the requisite 188,000 tons of farina would involve 940,000 tons of potatoes. Seeing that the authorities, under the dictates of war, contemplated setting aside 2,000,000 tons from the 1918 crop for the production of potato-flour, such a demand as indicated would not impose an intolerable strain upon our potato-growing resources. Were such a scheme carried to fruition we should also be able to recover 28,000 tons of valuable cattle meal to feed our stock during the winter season.
But, as already mentioned, the farina represents only one phase of a big issue possessed of vast possibilities. The other available openings for the products of the tuber would consume from four to eight times the volume of potatoes available. In Germany, out of the total 54,000,000 tons raised during the year only a round 4,000,000 tons have to be turned into flocken and schnitzel to save them from destruction by frost. In these circumstances there would appear to be scope for the cultivation of a further 5,000,000 tons, or twice the prevailing annual crop in these islands, with this advantage. The farmer, assured of his market and a fair price for his product, would be encouraged to extend his activities, and would be prompted to exploit considerable acreage of land which at present is regarded as waste, for the simple reason that it cannot be cultivated under existing conditions to profit.
Even disease and its ravages would be regarded by the growers with perfect equanimity were the industrial uses of the potato to be developed in this country. A farmer would not be faced with disaster in such an eventuality, as is the case to-day, because the diseased tubers would be available for the production of alcohol. Indeed, the more advanced the stage of disease the more suitable is the potato to this range of exploitation.
Lifting the commercial horizon, in so far as it affects the potato, demands support for other reasons. It would encourage inventive effort, which, in turn, would undoubtedly lead to the elimination of wastage in the household. Evaporative or dehydrating processes are already in operation, and it is only logical to assume that this tendency is capable of considerable expansion. The perfection of a simple and inexpensive process of drying the potato, either whole or in conveniently sized sections, as is common to culinary practice, capable of restoration, if necessary, to the original condition before cooking for the table, would benefit the whole community. “Spud drill,” the bête noire of every home, restaurant and hotel, with its concomitant wastage of time and heavy loss of valuable food material, would be eliminated. The removal of the greater part, or whole, of the 75 per cent. of the water contained in the raw tuber would decrease bulk, and effect a very valuable saving in transport. At the present moment the carriage of one ton of potatoes involves the useless dragging about of 15 cwt. of water which is superfluous. Only 5 cwt. of the load represents solid foodstuff. Dry the potato, expel the water, and from 4 to 5 tons of the product could be carried in the space now demanded to receive one ton. We have milk, peas, fruits, and other commodities innumerable in an evaporated form, which in their raw condition are associated with heavy proportions of water, so that there does not appear to be any valid reason why the potato should not be supplied to the housewife in a similar form and at a low figure. The perfection of such a process would completely obviate all waste because the offal—the peel and other inedible portions—would be recovered for conversion into food for animals, instead of suffering incineration. The recovery of the skin alone would bring within reach of the cattle-raiser for winter feed upwards of 30,000 tons of meal worth from £400,000 to £600,000—$2,000,000 to $3,000,000.
We, who live in these islands, scarcely understand the potato. We are content to cling tenaciously to the traditions established three hundred years ago. It is estimated that the British farmers lost over £6,000,000—$30,000,000—in handling their 1918 crop owing to the employment of obsolete and wasteful methods. The greater part, if not the whole, of this loss might have been averted had more enlightened methods prevailed concerning the utilization of the tuber. The above-mentioned figure does not take into account the losses suffered from disease and other causes, which must also have amounted to millions sterling.
Our system is as pre-historic as many of the agricultural methods practised by the fellaheen in the Land of the Pharaohs. The potatoes are dug and then collected for storage in big clamps. These have to be opened at intervals to allow the contents to be turned over and inspected, to ascertain whether or no latent disease has asserted itself. The potatoes have to be graded and bagged preparatory for market, while there is the formidable item of transport to be considered. Between the harvesting of the crop and its ultimate disposal considerable handling ensues, while the difference in value between the “ware,” or table, potatoes and the “chats,” or those regarded as fit only for the pigs, is also very pronounced.
Contrast this method with what would obtain were we to develop the Continental system. After digging and grading the crop the farmer would merely be called upon to convey his harvest to the factory, when all anxiety, so far as he was concerned, would end. The method would be comparable with that pertaining to the handling of the wheat harvest in the great grain-growing countries, where the farmer is merely called upon to gather his grain and to haul it to the elevator. The saving in time and labour alone—two vital factors in these days—would be incalculable, while the risks of loss of crop would be completely obviated.
The super-scientific exploitation of the potato would extend far-reaching benefits in every direction. Not only would considerable stretches of derelict agricultural Britain be brought into productivity, but the very stimulation of the poor soils would bring about startling expansion in the production of artificial fertilizers, and would tend to stabilize such industries. In this way the recovery of waste in many other directions would be fostered—potash from the flues of the blast furnaces; basic slag from the dumps disfiguring the countryside in the vicinity of our ironworks; sulphate of ammonia from our gas and coking ovens; nitrates from the air. These would offer scope for employment, and tend to keep money within the confines of these islands, because the expansion of waste-recovery plants upon a sufficiently impressive scale in the interests of agriculture, with the local demand constituting the backbone of the trade, would encourage production for export. The labour thus absorbed would more than counter-balance the displacement experienced on the farms, and would redound to the benefit of the latter, because foods for poor and rich soils would be turned out in increasing streams and at lower prices. Thus it will be seen that any development of the potato, along modern scientific lines, and in such a way as to frustrate waste, must represent a big stride forward in the progressive cycle.
CHAPTER XII
CONVERTING NITROGENOUS REFUSE INTO SOAP
A startling corollary of contemporary economic conditions is the spirited struggle which is now being waged between the table and the bath. The structural fabric of the human body demands a certain proportion of fat to ensure its smooth rhythmic working in precisely the same way as a machine requires oil. At the same time a cleanser is necessary wherewith to scour the external surface of the body to obtain protection against the ravages of disease. Fat is essential to fulfil this mission also. But there is an insufficient supply forthcoming to meet the complete claims of both. So the question arises—Which shall be satisfied? Little Mary or Mother Hygeia?
When Mégè Mouries, animated by the contention that it was preferable for the poor of Paris to be able to obtain a first-class nutritive butter substitute in preference to butter of doubtful quality, advanced his discovery of margarine as the solution to this problem, he little realized what a tremendous upheaval his invention was destined to achieve, or the staggering problem it would ultimately present to civilization. Certainly for many years his butter substitute, contrived from animal fat and milk, was regarded askance by the community in general. It was grudgingly conceded to be a possible food only for the poorest of the poor—those denied the opportunity from lack of means to purchase butter of any description.
For many years margarine was the object of unprincipled prejudice and obloquy. It struggled desperately for recognition. Inventive effort was expended freely to render the product more and more attractive in appearance and flavour, to attract all classes of the community. Indeed, ingenuity was carried to such lengths as to produce a substitute impossible of detection from the genuine article, except by the most searching analysis.
But the rejected of 1871 has become the indispensable of 1919. The prevailing shortage of dairying products, confined not to one single country or even continent, but common to the whole world, has compelled the recognition of the virtues of margarine. The alternative is to go without, inasmuch as other edible fats, which might have taken the place of butter, have become unobtainable. But the British public, which fought the advance and claims of margarine for nearly half a century with a blind fury, and being forced to accept Hobson’s choice, has encountered a pleasant surprise. The criticized butter substitute is found to be not so bad as it has been painted. With improving acquaintance opinion has veered round and now admits, somewhat tardily perhaps, that what was once considered to be only the poor man’s butter is, in reality, an excellent foodstuff in itself, and preferable to many grades of the genuine article, some of which certainly are not above suspicion. To convey some idea of the enormous hold which this article of food has now secured upon the public it may be related that the turnover of one firm, specializing in the preparation of this product, aggregated no less than £22,000,000—$110,000,000—during the year 1918.
The increasing popularity of margarine speedily exercised a pronounced reaction upon the soap-manufacturing industry. The fats which were being utilized for the production of detergents were now demanded for conversion into foodstuffs. Hitherto, the soap-boiler has been regarded as the very lowest depths to which fatty waste can possibly sink. Thereto gravitated all the flotsam and jetsam of greases arising from other industries and in every stage of decay. But it did not matter how rancid the substance might be by the time it reached the soap-manufacturer. Here a scarcely credible metamorphosis could be effected, the most repellent raw material being transformed into the most attractive and fragrant acquisition to the toilet. Little wonder therefore that fats condemned as unfit or considered superfluous, though perfectly sound, for other use by man or beast, found their way to this mill. The soap-maker could absorb it all.
Thus, it will be seen, the soap trade is founded upon the commercial utilization of waste, and this raw material is drawn from the three kingdoms—animal, vegetable, and fish. As a matter of fact, the source of the fat is immaterial. It can be compelled to play its allotted part in the evolution of the cleansing agent.
The British nation is a big consumer of soap. Supplies of animal fat could never keep pace with the demand for this commodity. So the vegetable kingdom was compelled to pay fat tribute to the soap-maker, the coco-nut, palm-kernel, and other exotic nut products furnishing the requisite oil expressed from the fleshy parts of their distinctive fruits. Then the harvests of the sea were found able to contribute impressive supplies of oils. These were likewise impressed into service.
While the soap-maker was busily engaged in his task another chemical wizard arose. He had discovered a means of hardening or solidifying fish oils, which naturally are fluid except at very low temperatures. This was a sensational discovery. Hydrogen was the agent which achieved the apparently impossible, but it did far more than merely to harden the oil. By harnessing the gas to this duty the peculiarly pungent aroma, and distinctive taste of the fish, is completely removed from the oil.
This scientific achievement brought a further levy of waste into industry. The refuse from whales which had hitherto been permitted to rot, the inedible portions of fish from the canneries, even glut catches of oil-yielding fish for which no profitable market could be found, were treated to secure the oleaginous product, which was subsequently hardened and then turned over to the margarine industry. The hydrogenated fish oil has been found to furnish an excellent butter substitute, and one so closely allied to the genuine article in every essential respect as to demand the evolution of new and more exacting methods to determine its actual origin. It offers the closest approach to butter by synthetic agency which has ever been accomplished up to this time.
The striking improvements recorded in the process and manufacture of margarine arrested the attention of the soap-maker. He reflected. Here he was receiving fats of every description to turn them into a product which only realized 4d.—8 cents—a pound. Yet he could take much of that self-same raw material, and by submitting it to another treatment he could produce an article which, as a foodstuff, was worth 1s.—25 cents—a pound. Why should he trouble to turn the fat into soap when he could derive three times the money by transforming it into an article of diet?
The war provided him with the opportunity for which he had been waiting patiently. The deficiency in butter supplies had to be remedied with margarine, which the public would have to accept willy-nilly. So the soap-maker switched over all the fresh sound fats from the soap-pans to the margarine mill. To-day thousands of tons of fats which five years ago would have been reduced to soap, this being considered as the only remaining utilization for the waste, is being turned into a food. The table has triumphed over the bath.
The devout worshippers at the feet of Hygeia may lament this inversion. But they need not despair. The world is not destined to go short of soap. Two British chemists, as a result of deep thinking, decided to attack the soap manufacturing issue de novo. They were not disposed to accept, at their face value, all that the textbooks set forth concerning the chemistry of soap. They were rather impressed by the fact that the manufacture of soap had undergone no fundamental change since the first cake was placed upon the market, which was during the days when Pepys was walking among us taking notes. So far as soap chemistry theories prevailed the two chemists in question were Bolshevic in their attitude towards them, which was a fortunate circumstance.
A cake of soap is as familiar as a loaf of bread. Yet how little do we know about it, despite the brain-power which has been crowded upon its preparation. As a cleansing agent it is without a rival. Many big industries would have to close their mills to-morrow were their supplies of soap cut off. Yet its composition is very simple. It is composed of only two basic ingredients—fat, from which the glycerine has been extracted, and caustic soda. No matter how much you may pay for the article, be it a penny or half-a-crown a tablet, analyse it, and you will find that there is the soda which achieves the cleansing effect, and the fat which gives the lather. It is quite possible a variety of other substances may be found associated with the two basic constituents, such as diatomaceous earth, Fuller’s earth, farina, traces of disinfectant, colouring matter, cereal grains, perfume, and even water. But beyond rendering the soap attractive to the eye, pleasant to the nose, or to a certain degree germicidal, these additional materials perform no useful purpose. They are described as fillers, but in more candid language may be set down, for the most part, as sheer adulterants. Few articles lend themselves so readily to adulteration as soap. Was it not an analyst who, in the courts, described a piece of soap submitted to him for investigation as a striking example of water standing upright!
Although we profess to know so much about soap and its properties, we are really labouring in ignorance. No chemist can tell you explicitly whether the cleansing action exercised is the result of chemical, physical, or mechanical action. It is one of those questions which the seeker after truth had better not press home too energetically, because the man of brains would probably retort firmly, but gently, that the interrogation involves such a complex reply as to be beyond your powers of comprehension.
In our resolve to respect Hygeia we are most liberal in our use of soap. We are even woefully extravagant, although the blame cannot be laid upon the shoulders of the user. The water is the criminal. Did it but rigidly adhere to the chemical formula of its composition, namely H₂O, all would be well, but unfortunately it is associated with certain salts which it picks up from the soil during its natural movement. Water appears to exercise a bewitching fancy for two salts in particular—lime and magnesia. It is the presence of these salts which renders our water hard. I might mention that there are other impurities in the water contributing to wastage of soap, but the two mentioned are the worst offenders in this respect.
Lime and magnesia have a remarkable affinity for fat, and until their amorous inclination is satiated the soap cannot possibly settle down to the duty for which it is employed. The moment the soap enters the water a chemical reaction occurs, the lime or magnesia, perhaps both, attracting the particles of fat until it is impossible for another molecule to be taken up. The extent of this attraction of the salts for the fat, and which the latter can no more resist than can iron filings battle against the drawing power of the magnet, may be gathered from the state of affairs prevailing in regard to the London water. The particles of lime contained in every 1,000 gallons of water attract approximately 15 pounds of fat contained in the soap before permitting the latter to lather. Seeing that fat enters into the composition of the average soap to the extent of approximately 60 per cent., it will be seen that about 25 per cent. of the fatty content of the soap is put out of action without performing any useful work.
The total loss of soap incurred during the year in London alone through this affinity runs into stupendous figures. The water consumption for washing purposes in the metropolis, according to Mr. Townsend, F.C.S., is 7,000,000 gallons a day. Consequently, at least 105,000 pounds of fat slip down the drains during the course of every twenty-four hours without fulfilling any useful service. The value of this loss, according to the same authority, may be set down at £1,000,000—$5,000,000—a year. This represents sheer waste, because the fats escape without extending a fraction of benefit to any one. It represents that section which has merely allied itself to the pernicious salts to form the lime-soap. From the foregoing one can form some estimate of the wastage of soap annually incurred throughout the country from the mere union of 25 per cent. of the fat with the lime—this figure fluctuates according to the degree of hardness of the water. Certainly it attains a figure which baffles credulity.
Confirmatory evidence of this waste is forthcoming from every hand-basin, bath, and washing appliance. It is revealed in the repulsive-looking greasy grey curds streaking the sides of the vessel, and which the user in ignorance generally dismisses as dirt removed by the soap. The housewife and launderer are often perplexed by the yellowish tone which certain garments assume, and the harsh and stickiness incidental to flannel after being washed. These defects are directly due to the lime-soap. Its presence is additionally exasperating owing to its extreme tenacity and penetrative powers, which wellnigh defy removal, except by the aid of powerful agents, the use of which is to be deplored, because they precipitate further and peculiar worries and adversely affect the fabrics. In the textile industries, more particularly the woollen trade, the lime-soap is regarded as the greatest affliction upon the craft.
The question arises as to whether the lime cannot be removed from the water, or whether science can evolve a soap capable of hurling defiance at the lime. The solution to the first-named suggestion is distillation of the water before use, a tedious and costly operation, or the subjection of the water to a softening process to effect the removal of the lime before the soap be introduced. Great strides have been recorded in this last-named field, but, unhappily, the question of cost constitutes an adverse factor. Thus the true solution would seem to lie in the preparation of a soap capable of resisting the blandishments of the lime.
It was this particular solution which the two British chemists, to whom I have alluded, set out to discover, but many years of patient labour in the laboratory was necessary to register the first success. This was due to the fact that they set out upon quite an original and unexplored line of research. They recognized that the margarine industry must develop into one of the biggest industries of the country, and that, accordingly, the tendency would be to abandon the conversion of fats into soap owing to the heavier claims of the table, and the more remunerative return which would arise from such an industrial diversion. They were also aware of the fact that in preparing the fats for the table a certain proportion of residue must result. At that time there appeared to be no profitable field for the utilization of this waste. So they decided to conduct their investigations along the path which would admit of this refuse being employed.
The fatty constituent decided, they cast around for another staple which was indispensable to the process they had definitely resolved to perfect. For this they required protein, the governing principle being the perfection of a cereal soap, the nitrogenous compounds of which should be turned to cleansing duty. Proteins were available in infinite variety, but here again it was realized that it would be wanton waste to use an article likely to be in request to serve as food for man or beast. Then they discovered that there were ample quantities of protein running to waste from commercial neglect. Accordingly, they decided to utilize these materials. The third constituent was the soda which must enter into the composition of any and every soap, but this did not occasion the slightest anxiety.
Equipped with these three materials they set to work. Experiment was tedious, and progress was slow, due to the fact that research was being conducted in quite a new and unknown field, absolutely deficient of any previous experience to serve as a guide. The first success recorded was the preparation of a soap in the form of a meal or powder coinciding with their ideas. This was submitted to the most rigorous tests, and the results obtained were quite in accordance with expectations. When this soap is introduced into the water no coagulation of the fat with the lime occurs. In this way the lime soap enemy was completely vanquished. As a supreme test sea-water was tried, with which it was found to lather as readily and as easily as when employed with distilled water.
The discovery represented a sensational achievement. It proved that something was awry with the existing theories pertaining to the chemistry of soap. Technical tests were undertaken, and they proved just as startling, because effects diametrically opposed to standard theories were observed. Whereas ordinary soap is insoluble in water, but soluble in alcohol, the cereal soap, so-called because of the starch which enters into its composition, is soluble in water, but absolutely insoluble in alcohol. The position is reversed.
A new era in soap manufacture was thus ushered in. The discovery came as a bomb-shell to the soap-making world, and, because it could not be explained through prevailing long-accepted chemical laws pertaining to this subject, it was ridiculed in certain quarters. To aggravate the situation chemists, who set out to fathom the secret of the new process by rigorous analysis, found themselves baffled. They could not determine the bases employed owing to the chemical reaction which had taken place during the preparation of the article, and from the circumstance that it belongs to colloidal chemistry. To indicate how completely the trade was baulked it may be mentioned that the chemist attached to one soap manufacturer in this country, and who had been requested to analyse a sample, contemptuously dismissed the product not as a soap, but as a filler!
Undaunted by the flood of adverse criticism which they provoked, the inventors requested the industries to which soap is essential, and which were being harassed by the lime-soap bugbear, to subject the discovery to a commercial test. They did so, and were so surprised at the results obtained as to ask promptly for further supplies! It not only offered them the means to reduce their consumption of soap, but it performed the desired functions more efficaciously, and proved to be a complete panacea for the many ills which had heretofore afflicted the trade. So impressed were they by what the new detergent accomplished that they established its use in their works there and then, and to this day have never reverted to the article formerly used.
In the powder form the application of the cereal soap was somewhat restricted. Accordingly the inventors decided to produce it in the familiar tablet and bar form, to enable a wider appeal to be made, even to the home. As events proved it was far easier to attain the meal stage than to pass therefrom to the solid cake. In fact, at one time it seemed as if this desired end would never be consummated. It was only by dint of unflagging effort that success was ultimately secured, and the soap in tablet and bar form introduced to the market.
As the manufacture of soap from waste vegetable bases represents something entirely new, so do the actual methods of production. The revolution is complete. In preparing the conventional soap from 10 to 16 days are necessary. By the new process the cereal soap can be made in sixty minutes! Furthermore, the operation is clean, absolutely free from odour, and cold, no heat whatever being required, except to warm the factory during the winter for the comfort of the employees. The machinery necessary is also of the simplest and most inexpensive character. Under these conditions there is not only a very marked saving in time, but of fuel and labour. In these high-pressure days wastage of time is as criminal as the wastage of material, and one logically asks why spend ten days in consummating a specific end when one hour will suffice for the purpose?
The saving in capital expenditure is very impressive, being at least 75 per cent. below that demanded for equipping the conventional factory. In other words, £10,000—$50,000—will provide an installation capable of turning out as much cereal soap as could be recorded with a plant costing £40,000—$200,000—devoted to the orthodox system.
The outstanding feature of the process is the complete absence of all boiling operations. The starch and protein-yielding material are passed through a mill to be reduced to a fine powder of the consistency of flour. This being a straightforward milling operation, the machinery ordinarily employed for grinding grain and other foods may be used. The flour is then emptied into a mixing machine, which is naught but the familiar dough-mixer used in the bakery. When the mixer is set in motion the caustic soda is admitted in a fine controlled stream. Directly the two materials come into contact the chemical reaction commences, the soda attacking the starch granules and breaking them down. Evidence of the battle in progress between the two chemicals is betrayed by the emission of the strong ammonia fumes, which prove that the nitrogenous compounds are being released. The admission of caustic soda is continued until the chemical reaction is concluded and the starch granules have been completely broken up. As the process is advanced the vegetable oil is admitted, the operation being so controlled as to yield a plastic mass of predetermined consistency. This is thoroughly kneaded after the manner of baker’s dough. The subsequent processes are common to those of the ordinary soap manufactory, the material being passed successively through the milling, plodding, and stamping machines.
The raw materials for the provision of the essential protein are drawn from the extensive vegetable kingdom. But in no instance is any material having a claim upon the community or the animal world as a possible food used for the purpose. Dependence is placed rather upon the waste incurred by the preparation of other products, or of materials which have been condemned as useless for food purposes.
As a case in point it may be mentioned that a grain-carrying ship was torpedoed, sunk, and, together with the cargo, subsequently salvaged. The retrieved grain was dried in the anticipation that it might be found suitable for cattle-feeding. But the expectations were doomed to disappointment. The wheat had been too completely impregnated with the salt from the sea. No other profitable use presenting itself, it was acquired for conversion into soap. It was ground in the usual manner and turned into the mixer. The presence of the salt, which had rendered the grain useless even as a cattle food, did not constitute an adverse factor. Had it not been for the cereal soap factory this cargo would have had to suffer destruction and have been completely lost to the community, whereas it was sold at a remunerative figure. Potato flour has likewise been utilized, but has not been widely exploited for the simple reason that this material constitutes an excellent foodstuff, either for man in the form of farina, or for cattle. Maize has also been used together with such products as rice, barley, oats, rye, and so on, but, except where the produce of this nature has suffered injury, it is not turned into soap. However, in those countries where a heavy surplus of such crops is encountered it would be found profitable to establish the cereal soap industry as a means of turning the glut to profitable advantage.
The principle governing the selection of the starch-yielding constituent is also observed in regard to the fat which is necessary. This is drawn exclusively from the margarine factories. It is a residue and at the moment possesses no other known marketable value. The ability to turn this refuse into an ingredient for soap has come as a distinct relief to the margarine industry, which threatened to be perplexed in the economical disposal of the accumulations. Seeing that the margarine manufacture is progressing by leaps and bounds, there is not likely to be any shortage in connection with the fat constituent of the cereal soap.
Supplies of a cheap and useless albeit rich starch waste product have also been secured in illimitable quantities. This has materially simplified the task of production. While a certain proportion of this particular raw material is secured for the preparation of an article of food, about 75 per cent. is discarded as waste. Since cattle will not eat it there remains no other field of utilization beyond the soap factory, for which it is eminently suited. In addition to the above-mentioned quantities ample supplies of this material are forthcoming, because it is freely used as ballast in ships sailing from the corner of the world in which the plant grows in profusion. Should the demand for the food product which this substance yields increase it would not exercise any stringency, because the offal alone would be adequate to satisfy soap-making requirements. In pre-war days this waste cost only 10s.—$2.50—per ton, but during the war, owing to freight inflation, the price rose to £10—$50—per ton, while little was carried in ballast, more profitable cargo being readily obtainable. Consequently imports declined, only sufficient being brought into the country to furnish the needs of the industry from which the foodstuff is made. But the vegetable world is wide, and so it is by no means a difficult problem to satisfy requirements for this new industry, even in regard to starch-yielding wastes. The only other essential ingredient is soda. As enormous quantities of this article are manufactured in this country supplies thereof are readily assured and at an attractive figure.
There is one feature concerning this conversion of vegetable wastes into soap which deserves mention. Should all familiar starch-yielding products become unobtainable, a remote contingency, or attain an excessive figure, manufacture need not be suspended. As a last extremity sawdust can be utilized as the protein base. The possibility of turning sawdust into soap constitutes something distinctly new and novel to the industry, but the apparently impossible is readily feasible under the process described. Normally such an expedient would not find favour, inasmuch as certain difficulty is experienced in the complete subjugation, or elimination, of the fibre which is exceedingly resistant to the breaking-up action resulting from milling and the chemical reaction. Nevertheless, the circumstance that sawdust can be used in this connection opens up vast possibilities, and represents an opportunity for inventive effort in the perfection of simple and completely effective means to overcome the fibre difficulty.
So far as industry is concerned the use of nitrogenous and oil wastes in the form of soap has enabled startling economies to be effected. In the woollen industry alone the saving in the soap-bill ranges from 20 per cent. upwards, as compared with other soaps which have been used, while the silk and cotton crafts can point to like economies. The successful subjugation of the lime-soap fiend is beneficially reflected in other directions. The effluents from the factories are conducted into the local drainage systems. The presence of the lime-soap in the drains provokes a host of troubles, such as clogging of the pipes and the fouling of traps and gullies, the curds proving exasperatingly tenacious and defying ready removal by ordinary flushing measures. Furthermore, the sludge reclaimed from the sewage, if contaminated by lime-soap, suffers material depreciation as a fertilizing agent because the grease, which is eventually released from the lime, tends to clog the soil.
But the most impressive fact to the ordinary user, both domestic and industrial, is the opportunity to reduce the wastage of soap. The fat content of the cereal soap is 50 per cent. less than that of the familiar article, and the whole of this is free to emulsify, from its refusal to coagulate with the lime in the water. Moreover, it contains two cleansing agents—the soda and the nitrogenous compounds—whereas the rival carries only one—the soda. Therefore it is not surprising to learn that in actual practice one pound of cereal soap will go as far, and do as much useful work, as two pounds of the ordinary soap. The ability to make a lather in sea-water is another distinct advantage which has been responsible for the widespread use of this commodity in the Royal Navy and mercantile marine.
Applied to London, the avoidance of soap-waste is certainly startling. It not only indicates how we can retrieve the £1,000,000—$5,000,000—at present escaping down the drains during the year, but the fat thus saved may be turned to more valuable account. The soap contributing to this gross loss is made from the very material possessing decided dietetic value. Therefore, by the law of economics, it should be diverted from its present use, admirable though it be to fulfil the claims of cleanliness, to the more vital application, especially in these days of stress and shortage. The table must take precedence over the bath.
CHAPTER XIII
TURNING OLD OIL INTO NEW
Oil is the blood of industry. Do we ever pause to reflect as to what would happen if we were suddenly to be deprived of our supplies of this commodity? Do we realize that without oil every machine would instantly be condemned to idleness, that our clocks would stop, and that it would be impossible for a train, steamship, tram, or omnibus to move a yard? The probability is that we have never given a thought to the subject, otherwise we should scarcely be so extravagant in our use of the article. Certainly we would not hesitate to expend appreciable effort in the recovery of as much of the waste as possible for further use.
Britain’s normal importations of lubricating oil are in the neighbourhood of 68,000,000 gallons a year, and they cost us a round £2,500,000—$12,500,000. The tendency in regard to consumption is upwards owing to our enhanced industrial activity, so that we are becoming more and more dependent upon extraneous sources of supply for our requirements.
But the wastage is colossal. Rags and cotton waste, after becoming so soddened with oil as to be incapable of absorbing another drop, are discarded without compunction. There is scarcely a workshop, factory or office in the country which cannot point to improvidence in this direction. Such absence of thought is deplorable for more reasons than one. Not only is the oil, which might be recovered, irretrievably lost, but the very absorbent which from its textile nature might prove of distinct value for other applications shares a similar fate. Were only 50 per cent. of the oil wasted in this country during the course of the year recovered, it would be possible to reduce our imports to a very pronounced degree. The reclaimed oil might not be of any value for its avowed purpose, but it must be remembered that lubrication does not constitute the one and only purpose to which oil can be applied.
The remarkable development of mechanical traction upon our highroads has been responsible to a marked degree for our increased consumption of this commodity, and this is the very field in which the greatest losses are incurred. There are thousands of garages scattered over the country. Many are of unpretentious calibre, but even the smallest of these establishments contributes its quota to the oil wastage issue. In cleaning operations oil is drawn off from engine crank-chambers and gear-boxes to run to waste. Rags are used for wiping and cleaning to be perfunctorily thrown away or burned when they have become too saturated for further use. The private motor-owner is probably as pronounced a contributory source of waste as the small garage, because he, too, is prodigal in his use of oil in every direction, and scarcely ever gives a thought to the retention of the waste for treatment to recover the oil and to release the rag for other duty, even if it be only for making paper.
At the moment the losses in this direction may not be so heavy as they have been in the past, for the simple reason that oil, in common with other commodities and in compliance with the inexorable law of supply and demand, has become more expensive. As the price rises the tendency to be sparing and careful becomes more marked, which only serves to prove that cheapness is the primary incentive to waste.
Wherever machinery has to be kept steadily and rhythmically moving oil is indispensable, so that it is not a difficult matter, when we recall the immense quantity of machinery which is kept running in these islands to maintain our industries, and to furnish our homes with such amenities as water, gas, and electricity, to recognize that our consumption of this article must necessarily run into huge figures. Our imports do not extend the true index to our dependence upon this article, because appreciable quantities thereof are derived from domestic sources of supply, such as coal and shales.
Machinery is insatiable in its hunger for oil. This circumstance, combined with the increasing price of the article, has been responsible for the display of striking fruitful thought and experiment in the discovery of effective substitutes. This is particularly noticeable in our machine-shops. A lubricating agent must be utilized to facilitate the cutting of metals. Oil is admittedly the most efficient and best suited for the purpose, but many excellent compounds have been evolved to consummate the desired end and to conspicuous advantage. In one machine-shop the consumption of oil by the large automatic tools became so heavy as to prompt experiment. Many expedients were evolved and submitted to practical test, but they failed from some peculiar cause or other. However, perseverance brought its due reward. A substitute at last was found, with the result that oil for cutting was abandoned. By the change over the firm in question succeeded in effecting a saving of £30—$150—per month on each large automatic machine it had in use by the supercession of oil for cutting.
Doubtless opportunities for substitutes still exist in many other directions, but commercial rivalry under normal conditions, with enhanced prices prevailing in regard to costs of production, has not yet been sufficiently encountered to compel the use of the substitute in preference to the ostensible staple to secure manufacturing economies. But changes will, and must of necessity, be recorded as the struggle for trade develops.
In order to encourage the more economical use of oil in industry many interesting and to a certain degree efficient devices have been introduced. But for the most part these apparatus are devoted to the filtering of what may be described as dirty free oil. They scarcely venture beyond the removal of whatever impurities may be associated with the product in the suspensory form. They do not attempt to reclaim waste oil. Such timid treatment is readily explicable. Oil is a somewhat sensitive product. Its inherent qualities may be easily impaired. For example, oil prepared essentially for lubricating purposes must be possessed of specific qualities, of which viscosity is one and the most important. Then the requirements of lubricating oil fluctuate so widely. An oil designed for use with a high-speed engine, such as the petrol motor, is not adapted to the lubrication of a slow-moving steam engine. Yet the depreciation of one single quality in any one grade is adequate to render the oil unsuited to the purpose for which it has been specially prepared.
The consumption of lubricating oil by the authorities during the war ran into imposing figures, and the liability to waste was proportionate to the consumption. Aeroplane engines and lorry motors, together with their auxiliary gearing, were in a constant condition of overhaul. Every time an engine or gearbox had to be dismantled many gallons of oil had to be drawn off. Consequently the handling of this enormous quantity of material to frustrate waste demanded special consideration, inasmuch as the oil could not be put back into the machinery after the latter had been reassembled. The authorities solved the problem by the perfection of an organization for the collection of this oil, which was returned to the oil-refinery to be re-conditioned, that is to be cleaned thoroughly and to have its original properties restored. By the observance of this practice of turning old oil into new the country was saved huge sums.
But there is a vast difference between official and civil conditions. So far as the former is concerned it was a comparatively simple matter to introduce an efficient organization to cope with the problem, while the waste oil was recovered in bulk, the hospitals for treating the engines of the aeroplanes and motor vehicles being centralized. It is the degree to which facilities for satisfying the civil demand are scattered which renders collection and handling of the waste along inexpensive lines so perplexing. It might be satisfactorily overcome if each garage and private owner undertook to maintain a waste-bin and to commit all oil-soddened rags thereto for periodical collection by a centralized authority, either municipal or private. The waste would be obtainable at a low figure, possibly free, inasmuch as the majority of garage owners would only be too glad to be rid of it. Possibly it would be found profitable to strike a bargain along the lines of free waste in return for the de-oiled rags, particularly if they were dusters or cloths. In this event the waste oil exploiter would only be called upon to incur the expense of collection and the treatment of the spoil. The return of the cloths would not entail further expense, because they could be returned in exchange for another consignment of waste. The vehicle would have to make the journey in any event, and it might just as well make the outward trip laden as empty. It is quite possible, moreover, that the garage would be readily disposed to pay a slight charge for the cleaning of this material, particularly of cloths, so long as the sum was attractively below the price ruling for new supplies of the article. To the waste exploiter the value of the oil recovered should be adequate to defray all expenses of collection and treatment, and then leave a handsome profit capable of accretion from the disposal of the cleaned rags, which the garage did not require, for paper-making. It is merely a question of enterprise and organization, and in a large centre could be rendered a highly attractive and profitable venture.
This fact is borne out by the experience of private firms. Of course, it is essential that the volume of spoil handled should be of sufficient bulk to keep the plant installed for the reclamation of the oil going to its full capacity, or to one approaching the maximum. This is possible in the case of a large private company, such as a railway, electric-generating station, or even industrial plant.
One of the largest motor omnibus companies in the world was induced to consider the possibilities of this issue, and finally was induced to make the experiment. The “Iwel” plant in question was designed to turn out 6 tons of clean dry rags per week. This may seem to be an enormous quantity to accumulate during a period of seven days, but it must be pointed out that the company in question maintains 2,000 to 3,000 public vehicles upon the roads, as well as several garages and repair shops.
The first three months’ experience served to bring home the economic advantages accruing from the scientific exploitation of this form of waste. During this brief period the company reclaimed 67 tons of rags for further use, the value of which at the time was set down at £1,007 7s. 1d.—over $5,000—while from this waste 4,080 gallons of oil, valued at £59 10s.—$297.50—were recovered. Here was a distinct gross saving of £1,066 17s. 1d.—$5,334—which figure was increased to £1,489 15s. 7d.—$7,449—on the credit side by the delivery of new rags to depots valued at £419 12s. 6d.—$2,098—and the sale of small rags unsuited to further work for £3 6s.—$16.50. On the debit side the heaviest expenses were incurred in connection with the purchase of new rags, valued at £405 12s. 9d.—$2,028, cartage of the waste £152 17s. 10d.—$764.44, wages and salaries £157 15s. 1d.—$788.74, and coal £105 0s. 11d.—$525.22. The total outgoings amounted to £1,038 16s. 7d.—$5,194.14, which left a balance of £450 19s.—$2,254.72—actual saving recorded by the treatment of the waste. So far as the reclaimed oil was concerned, while this was unsuited to further utilization in its original province, it was found to form an excellent fuel for the operation of the Diesel engines, and consequently reduced the fuel bill on this account by a corresponding amount.
Another illuminating instance of the value of such waste is afforded by the working account for one year, furnished by one of the foremost British chemical manufacturers. The plant acquired in this instance comprised two turbine centrifugal separators, one washing machine, and one drying cabinet, the cost of which complete was £210—$1,050. In the course of the twelve months 350,000 wiping and other cloths were treated, and the losses incurred therewith were so slender as to demand renewals to the extent of only 15,000 new cloths, which, at 2s. 1¹⁄₄d.—52.5 cents—per dozen came out at £131 10s. 2¹⁄₂d.—about $657.55. The heaviest item in the operating account was wages—£132 12s. ($663). Other expenditure, including repairs, fuel, and interest on the first cost of plant, brought the total to £324 2s. 2¹⁄₂d.—$1,620.55. From the treatment of the 350,000 cloths 125 casks, or 5,000 gallons, of oil were recovered, which, at 10d.—20 cents—per gallon, represented £208 6s. 8d.—$1,041.64. The saving in cotton waste due to the soiled cloths being rendered available for further duty, set down at 392 lb. at £4 4s.—$21—per week, came out at £218 8s.—$1,092. Thus the total value of the waste recovered was £426 14s. 8d.—$2,133.64, leaving a saving, after deducting expenditure, of £102 12s. 5¹⁄₂d.—$533.11. The results of the year’s working, therefore, enabled the firm to recoup approximately 50 per cent. of its original outlay, while the value of the oil recovered was only a little below the cost of the plant. The saving in cotton-waste—material which otherwise would have had to be provided—actually exceeded the capital outlay upon the plant.
The Lancashire and Yorkshire Railway Company, in consonance with the general practice, formerly utilized cotton-waste in its works for cleaning purposes. In these operations the material becomes saturated with ordinary lubricating, cylinder, and other oils, as well as grease from rubbing down the locomotives and parts. Some years ago it decided to abandon cotton-waste in lieu of sponge cloths, at the same time installing a plant for the recovery of the oil and grease from the soiled materials. During the year these sponge cloths are passed over and over again through the cleansing process, the operations being equivalent to the treatment of 6,500,000 cloths, and in this manner approximately 45,000 to 56,000 gallons of oil are reclaimed.
It does not matter to what phase of industry one turns, a certain amount of oil is possible of reclamation from the waste employed in connection with the conduct of the work. The volume recoverable naturally varies widely according to the nature of the trade pursued, and in some instances the individual yield may appear to be insignificant. But, during the course of the year, even in a small shop, the figure is certain to become impressive and well worth the efforts expended, as well as the money invested in the requisite plant, while, if the one instance be multiplied by the number of other similar establishments distributed throughout the country, the aggregate must necessarily be formidable. The table opposite furnishes a few actual results in the selection of industries specified.
It will be observed that the yield varies widely according to the industry concerned, but in every instance it will be observed that the figure is such as to render the process profitable, not only on account of the oil thus procured, but from the release of the waste or other absorbent for a further spell of useful service. If the waste, or other material, has been employed only for wiping parts, or mopping up free oil, passage through the oil separator will suffice, but if it has been utilized for general work and has become badly soiled, it requires washing. The sludge resulting from this process is subsequently passed through the oil-recovery plant instead of being thrown away, the reclamation thus being complete, while the rags or other textiles are passed through cabinets or other suitable facilities to be dried quickly.
| Industry. | Material Treated. | Quantity. | Oil Recovered. | Per Cent. |
|---|---|---|---|---|
| Pints. | ||||
| Agricultural machinery | Cotton-waste | 18 lb. | 9·75 | 54·16 |
| Biscuit manufacture | Cotton-waste[1] | 10 lb. | 4 | 40 |
| Colliery | Cotton-waste[2] | 39.75 lb. | 63 | 158·69 |
| Cotton-waste[3] | 15·75 lb. | 10 | 57·5 | |
| Cycle and parts | Rags | 112 lb. | 80 | 71·42 |
| Sponge cloths | 1 gross | 8 | — | |
| Foundry | Cotton-waste | 13 lb. | 11.25 | 86·53 |
| Machine-tool manufacture | Cotton-waste | 8·25 lb. | 2·75 | 33·33 |
| Motor-car | Cotton-waste | 16 lb. | 1·25 | 7·81 |
| Rags | 12 lb. | 2·75 | 22·91 | |
| Railway | Cotton-waste | 14 lb. | 2·625 | 13·75 |
| Cotton-waste[4] | 10 lb. | 13 | 130 | |
| Steel and iron-works | Cotton-waste | 8·25 lb. | 9·25 | 112·12 |
| Mutton cloths | 2 lb. | 1·5 | 75 | |
| Tramway | Cotton-waste | 13 lb. | 1·25 | 9·61 |
| Wood screw manufacture | Cotton-waste | 21 lb. | 13·75 | 65·47 |
But so far as industrial operations are concerned oil reclamation is by no means confined to the treatment of the waste and cloths. As already mentioned, oil is freely used in working metal, acting as the lubricant to the cutting tool. While trough facilities are provided to catch the oil to enable it to be used again, much clings to the turnings and other refuse. Even where works are not equipped with oil-recovery apparatus of some description or another an attempt to secure a proportion of what would otherwise be lost is made. The turnings are permitted to drain. The quantity of oil recovered in this manner, however, is very low. Certainly it does not exceed 40 per cent., because the oil clings somewhat readily and freely to the metallic surface.
Accordingly, in the best equipped factories, the practice is to submit the turnings to treatment. It is passed through the extractors and in this way at least all but 10 per cent. of the oil is recovered. When the solvent extraction process is exploited the recovery can be carried as far as 99 per cent., the fraction resisting recovery thus being extremely small. The yield obtainable from such metallic residue from the machines is certainly sufficient to justify the treatment. In one shop, devoted to the manufacture of cycles and cycle parts, the oil recovery averaged 22 pints per 112 lb. of turnings treated. In another instance, where the production of agricultural machinery is conducted, 26 lb. of steel turnings and 23 lb. 9 oz. of brass turnings yielded 1·75 and 1·125 pints of oil respectively. One motor-car manufacturing firm recovers 1,200 gallons of cutting oil from the treatment of its weekly accumulation of turnings. This becomes available for re-use, and the absolute loss recorded is only about 10 per cent. In another instance, 2,440 gallons of oil were recovered from the treatment of 41 tons 17 cwt. of metal turnings, 900 lb. of rags, and 19,300 sponge cloths in the course of six months.
Another interesting experience in this field is worthy of record. It was found that the sawdust in the vicinity of certain machines, provided as an absorbent, became somewhat heavily charged with oil splashed and otherwise discharged from the machines. The presence of the oil-soaked refuse on the floor was construed as being a menace to the establishment, the hazard of fire being regarded as thereby increased. Accordingly, the floor was swept more frequently than otherwise would have been the case, the refuse being promptly shovelled into the furnace merely to secure its prompt and complete riddance. The sawdust was examined by a waste expert upon the occasion of a visit to the works, and he suggested, from the fact that oil oozed from a handful of the sawdust when squeezed, that the waste should be subjected to the “Iwel” oil-reclamation process, instead of being burned. The recommendation was followed, and the volume of oil thus recovered was found to be of surprising quantity. In fact, its value more than defrayed the cost of the small plant which was installed to treat it. So effectively was the sawdust found to be cleaned of the oil as to be redistributed time after time upon the floor around the machines. In this instance destruction of the oil-soaked refuse by fire represented a material loss in more senses than one.
While it is only within the past few years that the possibility of reclaiming oil from cotton-waste has aroused such earnest attention, it must be acknowledged that many firms sought to reduce their expenditure by submitting their cloths and waste to a laundrying process. Of course, by this practice the textiles were recovered, but the oil was lost, while material expense was incurred in the conduct of the laundrying operations and the acquisition of suitable detergents. An interesting record of the cost of the respective processes is forthcoming from a certain firm in the South of England. It refers to two years’ operations, the one referring to straight laundrying of the sponge cloths and waste, while the other refers to the latest method of dealing with such materials. Under the former régime the cost for the year was £219 9s. 2d.—$1,097.28. The heaviest items were for the purchase of sponge cloths and waste, the figures for which were £62 17s. and £137—$314.25 and $685—respectively. The cost of washing the dirty cloths at 7s. 3d.—$1.78—per week was £18 17s.—$94.25.
The firm then acquired a small oil reclamation and cloths-cleaning plant at a cost of £125—$625. During the year, under the new conditions, the expenditure on account of sponge cloths and waste was £25 16s. and £85 15s.—$129 and $428.75—respectively, but, for purposes of comparison, one-fifth was added to each item to counteract the slackness encountered, and to bring the subject more in line with the experience of the previous year. But even after making these allowances the total expenditure for these two articles came out at only £133 17s. 2d.—$669.28—against £199 17s.—$999.25—when the textiles were laundered. Inclusive of all expenditure, including wages, washing materials, power, and interest at 5 per cent. upon the first cost of the plant, the total cost was £199 4s. 4d.—$996.8—as compared with £219 9s. 2d.—$1,097.28—for the previous year—a saving of £20 4s. 10d.—$101.20. But under the new system 716 gallons of oil, totally lost under the previous method, were reclaimed, which represented £11 15s.—$58.75, so that the total saving was £31 19s. 10d.—$159.98, representing approximately 25 per cent. on the capital outlay incurred for the installation of the plant.
In view of the economies possible from the practice of such a system as I have described, it is somewhat surprising that manufacturing firms should hesitate to include an oil-reclamation plant in the equipment of their establishments. It is likewise somewhat difficult to bring home to them what really can be achieved by the scientific treatment of their waste. In order to popularize the practice, and to further the observance of economies which are inseparable from industrial operations under contemporary conditions, more than one British firm is prepared to advance an attractive commercial proposal. This is that the equipment should be installed and its cost defrayed out of the actual savings effected. Thus, in the case of the installation to which I have made reference, and which deals with the rags accumulating from the maintenance of public service vehicles, such a procedure was initiated. The capital expenditure involved in this instance was approximately £2,200—$11,000, but as the plant recorded a net saving of £450—$2,250—as a result of three months’ work, which is equivalent to £1,800—$9,000—a year, it should be able to defray the whole of the initial outlay within about 16 months. However, all things being equal, it is computed that a reclamation plant submitted to the work which I have described should pay for itself within two years. Experience serves to support this contention, although, under the conditions which at present prevail, the possibility is that such a gratifying achievement would be fulfilled within a shorter period.