Before en-suite
by Bob Hammond
Continuing our occasional series exploring memories of Keyworth past, Bob Hammond takes a look
(in a manner of speaking) into Keyworth privies
Until mains water was brought to Keyworth in the late 1920s, supplies had to be pumped up either from wells (for groundwater) or cisterns (for surface run-off). Flush toilets were therefore impractical, and most people relieved themselves into buckets or pits, which for hygienic reasons were usually situated in outhouses across the yard from where they lived. Even where they were an integral part of the house, they generally had to be entered from the outside, to keep out the smell.
New Row, which used to run back from what is now No. 3 Main Street (the hairdresser) until demolished in the early thirties, illustrates a common arrangement. It consisted of ten cottages, paralleled by a line of outhouses and an eleventh cottage about ten yards away. Some of the outhouses were used to store coal, others served as toilets (privies), and one contained an ash pit into which household rubbish and ashes were thrown, and into which the contents of the privies drained. There were three privies for the eleven cottages and their occupants, whose numbers seem to have varied quite markedly: in 1881, the census recorded 54 people living in New Row; in 1891, after a sharp drop in Keyworth's population, the number was down to 26, with three cottages unoccupied; in the 1920s, all the cottages were again occupied and one contained a family of eight. There must have been a good deal of uncomfortable waiting one's turn, especially during the 'rush hour'.
Every few weeks the ash pit was cleared out, its contents shovelled into a heap in the yard to await collection and disposal. Margaret Sharpe recalls the collector sometimes being delayed several days, which was very unpleasant for residents and visitors alike.
The inside of one of these privies was not exactly salubrious. Those in New Row had two seats each, - one for adults and another alongside for children. Daylight entered through gaps around ill-fitting doors; at night they were pitch dark. Of course there was no heating, and visits on winter nights must have been acutely uncomfortable. No wonder chamber pots were much more popular then than they are now!
Newspaper was cut or torn into squares and threaded on string, but the string was often empty. Each privy was attached to three or four house–holds, who drew up a cleaning rota to scrub the seats both above and underneath, and generally keep the place clean, but even so it could exude a powerful smell, especially in summer when flies were also a nuisance.
The name 'privy' is something of a misnomer because the privacy they afforded was limited, particularly where, as in New Row, several households shared them and doors could not be locked or bolted. The less sensitive would sit beside each other if there were more than one seat. There was no separation of sexes, although women usually waited if they knew a man was inside, and vice versa. For the more sensitive, it was a case of waiting by the house front window until the coast seemed clear, then running across the yard into the privy, doing the necessary, and getting out again before someone else arrived.
May Stevenson's family moved into one of the New Row cottages when she was fourteen, and she can recall her embarrassment when she opened a privy door to be greeted by a seated occupant with an invitation for May to sit alongside. She just turned tail and fled! But the encounter was the beginning of a happy relationship: some years later the two became sisters-in-law.
May also remembers an occasion when someone dropped a sixpence in the privy, which landed on a ledge just above the pit. A chimney sweep was called to rescue the coin, which was probably worth 50p in today's money.
Some privies did have locks or bolts. Those behind the rows of cottages on Nottingham Road had them on the outside only, to prevent doors from slamming in strong winds. Sybil Bouts, who used to live in Dale Road, remembers an occasion when she and a friend got locked in one of these. They were playing a game of fox and hounds, a form of hide-and-seek. Sybil and her friend were foxes, and chose to hide in one of the Nottingham Road privies, when a householder came out and bolted the door. They forgot all about being foxes and just screamed until they were heard and released, never to hide there again!
Not all privies were communal. Larger houses had their own individual toilets, used exclusively by the one household. Instead of a pit under the seat, there was often a bucket, which was emptied at least once a week. And not all privies smelt. Those that were individually owned were probably better kept on the whole, and careful housewives or their husbands would use liberal doses of disinfectant. Sybil Bouts is one who has no memories of strong smells.
For many years, Bob Smith from Lodge Farm (now Wembley Lodge) on Wysall Lane, travelled round the village with horse and cart, taking full buckets away and replacing them with empties. If the buckets were over-full, he was likely' to leave a trail of slopped contents behind him, and probably did not smell too sweet himself. But he could not have been that bad: he often visited the chip shop (then in The Square) on his rounds and was always served, though he probably parked his cart at some distance. He must have been a well-known village character - all the older residents remember him!
The polite term for the contents of the privy was (and is) night soil, and it was highly sought after by farmers as fertilizer. Lodge Farm must have flourished with its regular supplies from the people of Keyworth. So did some people's gardens, because not all were on Bob Smith's rounds, and if a bucket became too full before he was due, it would he emptied into a hole in the garden. There was, of course, danger in doing this when drinking water came from immediately underground, and there were occasional outbreaks of cholera, but they never reached epidemic proportions, at least not in living memory.
Going back slightly before living memory, a by-law was passed by Keyworth Parish Council on 12th February 1898, decreeing that no night soil was to lie in the street after 8 am in summer, and after 9 am in winter (Parish Council minutes). Such regulations were usually enacted in response to complaints, but these are not recorded. Presumably someone (Bob Smith's predecessor?) used to collect buckets that were put out the night before, rather as the Corporation today collects sacks of household waste piled on the pavement before the lorry comes round; and presumably he was now required to finish his round by early morning. At a time when there was no street lighting, one might think it was more offensive to leave the buckets of filth out at night for people to trip over!
Large farms, of which there were few in Keyworth, had large households; because in addition to the family there were domestic and farm servants -the latter being living-in farm labourers. The living quarters of the servants may have been inferior to those of the family, but there was no distinction in toilet facilities. Shaw's Farm on Main Street was one of the largest in the village and had one three-seater privy, with a pit below, which was used by all. The outhouse accommodating it (behind the farm house which is now 36 Main Street) was recently renovated and converted to other uses, so the wooden three-seater - a beautifully crafted piece of work, with hinged lids that came down over the holes when not in use - was removed by Phil Attewell, and is now the property of the Local History Society. Unfortunately the slate supports on which the wood rested could not be rescued.
Before the introduction of mains water, a flushing toilet was not impossibility if well water was plentiful and if there was a drain into which to empty what was flushed. Peter Cooke has lived all his life near the top of Villa Road, with one large house higher up the hill. The owner of that house periodically pumped enough water up to flush his toilet, which drained into a ditch running along the end of the Cookes' garden, gradually seeping into the ground on its way down. Peter remembers the smell when that was done!
Mains water came to Keyworth in the late 1920s, but not all houses immediately enjoyed the benefit. To begin with only houses near the principal water mains were connected; those up side streets had to wait. And water mains needed to be accompanied by mains drainage, or at least an adequate cesspit, before modern flush toilets could he installed. So the old privies, almost invariably approached from outside, continued to he used for several more decades. Peter Cooke's bungalow on Villa Road got its flush toilet as late as 1958, when sewage mains reached it. Today, however, an indoor flush toilet is regarded as one of the basic amenities of modern life, and there is probably no house in Keyworth without one; nor a house with an old fashioned privy still in use. If there is, we would he interested to know of it.