The Nightsoil Man
A Victorian Career That’s Not for the Faint of Heart
Everyone aspires to be something when they grow up. Personally, I wanted to be Lt. Uhura on Star Trek. The thing is, though, I’m not a huge fan of science or math, both topics an astronaut must be proficient in. Reluctantly, I gave up that dream and became an author instead.
But I think it would be fair to also say there are some jobs that no one ever pines for. This is as true now as it was in Victorian England, an era in which you probably wouldn’t want to become a nightsoil man.
This job involved collecting human waste from privies and cesspools in the city. They worked late at night when the streets were empty to avoid being seen. . .and smelled. In carts they transported away waste to disposal sites where it was gathered and used as fertilizer. These men were considered among the lowest on the social ladder and they were also at great risk of contracting cholera or typhoid fever. But it was a job that paid, and in overcrowded London where poverty ran rampant, holding any job was a step above starvation, no matter how smelly it was.
In my new release, The Sleuth of Blackfriars Lane, one of the secondary characters just so happens to be a nightsoil man—and a very helpful one at that. He is the first on the scene of an accident and runs to get help. Who was in the accident and what sort was it? Well, well…you’ll just have to purchase the book to find out, or if you’re feeling lucky, try your hand at winning a signed copy. Happy reading!
