Millions from Waste by Frederick Arthur Ambrose Talbot - HTML preview

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CHAPTER XIX
 HOUSE-BUILDING WITH WASTES

Of the many problems of the day demanding prompt settlement, none, perhaps, is so vital to the welfare of the community as the provision of increased housing accommodation. The issue is by no means confined to Great Britain; it is incidental more or less to every country. Such a state of affairs is not surprising, seeing that building operations, at least in the domestic sense, have been reduced to a condition of comparative stagnation for five years. Even those countries which were not drawn into the actual fighting arena have been unable to carry out housing schemes to meet the needs of their growing populations owing, primarily, to the dearth of the necessary materials and the enhanced labour charges.

So far as Britain is concerned the outlook is decidedly disquieting. It is estimated that at least 1,000,000 houses are required to meet the needs of the population. As a first instalment it is proposed to complete forthwith 300,000 houses, but, here again, experience is proving it to be far easier to adumbrate such comprehensive schemes on paper than to carry them into expeditious effect. Questions of cost have arisen. This constitutes the vital factor, because obviously it is folly to build houses for people who cannot afford to live in them. And the limit in the upward tendency has by no means been attained.

The critical situation has been surveyed from every ostensible angle without any practical solution being found. But have we not been circumscribed in our attacks upon the problem? Have we not become so deeply rutted in our ideas concerning everything pertaining to housing as to be unable to regard the aspect from a totally new point of view? Similar crises have developed in, and are constantly assailing, other industries. Upon their occurrence they appear to be equally impossible of successful adjustment, but, finally, as a result of attacking a difficulty from quite a new angle and in a new way, it has been not only subjugated satisfactorily, but a distinct improvement upon the old method brought into operation at one and the same time. A new line of thought and development, possessing greater and more economic possibilities, has been opened up to the advantage of one and all. As a rule one need never hesitate to abandon the existing for something new, because the former is generally associated with some form of waste which has become so heavy as to act as a drag. Directly this retarding force is eliminated, or turned to account, a new era commences.

The contemporary situation in the building trade recalls the state of affairs which arose in American agricultural circles as a result of the outbreak of the Civil War. The drainage of man-power from the land precipitated an extremely depressing outlook. Farmers protested that the soil must run to seed from lack of labour to wield the tools. But thinking men held a contrary opinion. Farming had been conducted along lines which had been followed slavishly for centuries. Manual labour had attained undisputed sway and to decisive disadvantage. Why not dispense with hand labour and use machines? The suggestion that mechanism could displace brawn upon the land provoked a good deal of hostile criticism and humour. But the imaginative were not to be dismayed by conservatism, prejudice, or ridicule. They continued perseveringly along their particular lines of reasoning.

What was the result? McCormick introduced the self-binder which revolutionized harvesting methods, while other brilliant minds conceived equally striking time- and labour-saving appliances for other agricultural duties. They not only solved the immediate crisis but imparted quite a new prospect to agriculture the whole world over. It is safe to assert that, but for the introduction of the self-binder, one-half of the United States would still have remained as barren as the wilderness from sheer lack of labour to cultivate it.

If such a complete revolution proved possible of attainment in such an ancient, rutted, and indispensable industry as agriculture, surely it is not hopeless to anticipate the fulfilment of a similar complete transformation in the craft of house-building? So far as farming is concerned there is every excuse for hesitating to depart from the proved and trusty. A false step may wreak untold harm, but so far as house-building is concerned no such calamity need be apprehended. A mistake can speedily be rectified. It is safe to assert that there is no other line of activity, especially in Great Britain, so closely identified with the effete and wasteful as house-building. In so far as constructional methods are concerned we have scarcely changed our ways since bricks were first brought into use.

We must ruthlessly scrap the old, which has obtained for so long, in favour of the new. Science is forcing the pace, and she will no more be arrested by obsolete theories and arguments than the tides will be held up by a child’s spade. Already she is asserting her power. Contemporary methods are wickedly extravagant, and it is this absurd wastage which is primarily responsible for enhanced costs. The ways of science are inscrutable, but they are sure none the less: the first indications of chafing at delay always assert themselves in the traditional becoming too expensive to maintain. The pocket is the positive road to reform; assail its contents, and the world commences to bestir itself. As the farmer, raised in the old school, had to give way to the engineer, so must our conceptions and ideas pertaining to providing houses for the community undergo a complete change. The architect, his numerous satellites, and the cumbrous rules and regulations which have been framed to protect their vested interests must be jettisoned without a thought of regret. The day has dawned when the engineer must assume the responsibility for providing the people with residential accommodation, and he will be assisted by a new force, including the chemist, which will play a far more prominent part in this problem than many may be disposed to imagine.

This is a utilitarian age. People desire houses to live in—not to look at, although every one will readily agree that a certain regard must be paid to external æsthetic considerations. The average house-owner troubles his head very little over the outside appearance of his domicile or the materials of which it is built, so long as the interior offers him all he desires in regard to comfort and health. Too long have we clung tenaciously to specific theories which are no more adapted to this age than is the slave-oared galley to mercantile traffic. They are destructive rather than constructive. For a time such clock-arresting dogma and precepts hold sway, but sooner or later the pendulum of progress gives such a vicious kick as to break down the whole of the obstructions disputing advance, to assume rhythmic running in a new channel to the advantage of one and all.

Science has the solution to the housing problem ready for immediate application, but she must be allowed to pursue her progressive way untrammelled. From what one might be able to assume, brick and stone represent the only building materials at our command. But are they? In other fields, where restraining forces are not allowed to secure the upper hand, huge forward strides are being made and with a material we, as a supposed commercial nation, have scarcely noticed.

I refer to concrete. We have only to turn to the engineering world to see what has been achieved with this material in the construction of bridges, tunnels, piers, harbours, breakwaters, warehouses, lighthouses, and even ships. If we turn to the United States and Germany we are able to see how we have lagged. In both those countries enormous strides have been made and incidentally, in the prosecution of this task, other magnificent conquests in the world of science and of the industrial employment of waste are recorded. To-day the manufacture of cement constitutes one of the twelve most important industries in the United States, and the greater part of this material is made from what a few years ago was accepted as sheer waste—residue from the iron-works which, having no further ostensible use, was dumped in huge piles to the disfigurement of the landscape. To-day this waste is being turned into building material, having usurped the product originally selected for this duty.

The reason why there should be such a deep-rooted antipathy to concrete for house-building purposes in these islands is somewhat inscrutable. Probably it is due to the experiments which were made many years ago, and which owing to our limited knowledge were construed by the quidnuncs into a failure. But because Brunel’s Great Eastern did not succeed we do not laugh at the mammoth steamship of to-day. Brunel’s conception suffered merely from being premature. So were the first attempts to use concrete in the house-building industry. During the past few years we have acquired further knowledge which should enable us to steer clear of the blunders of the past, but instead of grappling with the problem along the lines which science is vividly blazing we prefer to waste time in the idle discussion of quaint theories and fantastic notions.

Many are the reasons why concrete should be employed. In the first place it is difficult to excel for simplicity. It comprises essentially two materials—cement, sand and rubble, the two last-named being generically described as the aggregate. The term is wide in its meaning, comprising virtually any and every inorganic material capable of being crushed to a pre-determined size, and the character of which may be as varied as the number of days in the year or more, while recent investigation has indicated that even the conventional sand may be eliminated, provided a sharp and gritty substitute in a similar powdered form be forthcoming.

Think what this means and the many possibilities it opens up! In the first place it enables material on site—waste—to be turned to economic account, and the term waste in this instance is extremely elastic. There is no need to disfigure the countryside with yawning craters in the form of pits for the excavation of the special clay suited to the making of bricks. Again we must not forget that by the employment of the conventional building materials a demand is made upon transport, which to-day is as acute as the scarcity of houses. With concrete the only constituent calling for transport from a producing point is cement, and this only involves the movement of one-seventh of the load which would otherwise be involved were bricks to be used. In other words, if seven tons of bricks were required to build a house it would only be requisite to move one ton of cement to yield a similar house in concrete—the other six tons of essential materials could be acquired on the site. The avoidance of superfluous expenditure as well as the economy in time and labour is obvious.

Our towns and cities are daily shedding tons of a specific form of waste—ashes and clinker from electric generating stations, water-works, gas-works, and refuse destructors. The contribution naturally varies according to the population, but a small town burning 40 tons of refuse in its destructor may safely anticipate accumulating clinker at the rate of 8 to 10 tons a day. The disposal of this residue presents a problem in itself. A certain quantity can be absorbed in connection with the sewage beds, road-making and other incidental tasks, but, for the most part, it has to be dumped, merely because it possesses no ostensible application. When one reflects upon the activities of the factories in a manufacturing town and the daily output of clinker and ash from these sources alone, it will be seen that the civic clinker disposal problem is likely to assume enormous dimensions, and to prove a costly issue in itself. Thousands of tons are dispatched by road, rail and water from our towns and cities to be jettisoned at suitable points where unsightliness does not count. The authorities of New York City used to ship hundreds of tons daily 60 miles out to sea, while at Liverpool it had to be barged for 24 miles to be thrown overboard into the Irish Sea at a cost of 2s. 6d.—60 cents—a ton! Many borough authorities will readily give away the material to those who care to fetch it, so keen are they to be relieved of this incubus. Yet, in every instance, the equivalent of sovereigns are being shot upon the land, dumped into the sea, or given away as the case may be.

Cannot a more economic use for this and kindred refuse be found? This is the obvious question in this utilitarian age. Yet it is almost superfluous to launch the inquiry. It can be turned into concrete: could, and should, if we were sufficiently enterprising and astute, as well as frugal in our habits, be turned into houses. Certain attempts have been made towards the conversion of this residue into constructional material such as kerb-stones for lining our pavements, slabs to take the place of York flagstones and bricks for paving purposes, the building of sheds and other insignificant structures, but none represents a grim attempt to wrestle with the issue along bold and comprehensive lines.

Some years ago, the city engineer of Liverpool, Mr. John A. Brodie, M.Inst.C.E., one of our most enterprising city engineers, essayed a bigger step forward. He was faced with the disposal of 50,000 tons of clinker from the city destructors during the year. He made a bold effort to turn it to economic account in the obvious directions—paving and kerbing operations—but these channels absorbed only a round 20,000 tons, leaving some 30,000 tons to be shipped to sea to be dumped at a total annual cost of nearly £4,000—$20,000. The city authorities had resolved to carry out a tenement building scheme, and the city engineer decided to provide them in concrete and to use the refuse from the destructors as the aggregate, exacting tests having convinced him of its suitability for this purpose.

The building, covering an area of 3,717 square feet, of which total 1,611 square feet are open space, is of three floors with four tenements on each floor, finished off with a flat roof, surrounded by a parapet for washing, drying, or playground purposes.

The construction of the building was carried out upon the section or slab system. That is to say the walls, floors, ceilings, and other parts, with all necessary openings, were moulded at the destructor works, and set aside for a time to mature. Some of these slabs were of imposing dimensions, ranging up to 16 feet in length by 13 feet wide, 14 inches thick and weighing 11 tons. Upon arrival at the site they were slung into position and dovetailed into place, thus forming a rigid structure.

As an indication of how modern thought may be hampered severely by prevailing notions it may be stated that, as a result of his deductions and experiments, the engineer decided that a thickness of 7 inches for the walls would be adequate. But his decision was over-ruled. The existing regulations insisted that brick walls should be 14 inches thick and the concrete had to comply with these rules. The result of this indefensible policy, for which misconception and lack of knowledge were responsible, was to double the weight of the structure and to inflate the cost of the buildings to an unnecessary degree. The engineer computed that if construction were carried out upon the lines he advocated the building could be completed, including the provision of all necessary plant, for £1,230—$6,150. Enforced compliance with obsolete rules inflated the cost to £4,072—$20,360. In other words the ratepayers of Liverpool were compelled to spend £2,842—$14,210—more than they need have done—a flagrant waste of money, material, time, labour, and knowledge.

One objection which has been levelled against the concrete house is the concrete floor. But to surmount this objection the Liverpool engineer embedded wooden scantlings in the concrete, covered the surface of the latter with a layer of pitch mixture applied hot, and then nailed down ¹⁄₄-inch floor-boards in the usual manner. In this way the so-called defects of the concrete floor were completely overcome. The walls were subjected to several experiments to determine the most suitable internal finish, some being papered, others plastered, while in further instances a simple coating of sanitary wash or lime was applied. It was found, however, that for such buildings, distemper was the most efficient finishing medium.

This experiment conclusively substantiated the claims advanced by the engineer. It demonstrated the fact that concrete lends itself to rapid construction, the Liverpool building, despite its size, being erected and roofed within three months, notwithstanding frequent cessations owing to inclement weather, and was ready for occupation within another eleven weeks—say six months in all. It is safe to assume that had brick been employed it could never have been finished in the time.

The advantages of concrete for such domiciles are obvious. The structure is as near being fire-proof as it is possible to contrive. It complies with every requirement of hygiene. It is substantial, weather-proof, and sound-proof, while it improves with age. Concrete, unlike the common grade of brick, does not deteriorate under the influences of time and weather. The walls offer no refuge for vermin, unless papered, and should a room become infected as a result of contagious disease among the inmates, it can be promptly sterilized by turning on a hose of boiling disinfectant and being scoured from top to bottom. Rats and mice cannot secure a refuge, because the extreme hardness of concrete taxes their gnawing powers to the superlative degree.

The experience of Liverpool was adequate to drive home the fact that concrete dwellings are not only able to provide the poorer classes with a substantial home, complying in every respect with modern requirements, but also indicated a profitable use for an otherwise useless waste product. Were comprehensive schemes carried out upon these lines the cost factor might be reduced to the absolute minimum by recourse to standardization in the preparation of the slabs. As a result of this initial experiment—the first of its character in Great Britain—the Liverpool city engineer estimated that he could erect future buildings of this type, in blocks of five, at £1,700—$8,500—each, and that this would show a saving of 25 per cent. over the cost which would be incurred if brick were used. But, and this was an important factor, to achieve this end it would be incumbent to allow the engineer to pursue his way unfettered by obsolete ideas, fallacious notions, and antiquated rules and regulations.

Some years ago Edison precipitated a mild wave of excitement by the perfection of a process for moulding houses complete in a solid block, much along the lines followed by the housewife in the preparation of jellies and other similar table dainties. He suggested the erection of a mould to the design of the desired house, including both internal and external artistic embellishments, and then to run the concrete into the metal shell in liquid form and to allow it to set and harden. Then the mould was to be demolished, leaving a solid monolithic-structure from foundation to roof, and without a crack or a joint. The mould, naturally, was built up in sections, which could be standardized and interchanged, so that once a set of moulds had been acquired a house of any desired dimensions might be erected. Of course, this demanded an imposing array of moulds, entailing heavy initial capital expenditure. Edison frankly admitted this to be the weak point in his scheme, because the mould bill for the construction of a “poured” house, as it was called, costing £240—$1,200—would be at least £5,000—$25,000. Consequently the suggestion was impracticable, unless the builder were given an imposing house-building scheme to complete, to enable him to distribute his mould charges in such a manner over the houses as to increase the actual building cost of each only by a trifling amount.

Edison’s conception aroused extreme interest in America and provoked widespread ridicule in these islands. The “poured” house was regarded in the same light as was the telephone upon its first appearance in London. As the latter was declared to be merely a “scientific toy,” so was the poured house described as nothing but a wild dream. But, be it noted, antagonism and objection have been levelled from the fickle standpoint of theory; we have no practical experiment to guide us in our assault upon Edison’s idea. Instead of setting to work to prove, or disprove, the practicability of the poured house we wasted time in academic discussions concerning “sweating walls,” condensation, coldness in winter, and to embark upon high-falutin diatribes concerning the imperative necessity for such abstract demands as “breathing bricks,” and other fantastic ideas which possibly are of interest but do not advance the realization of the cheap house, contribute to the solution of the housing question, or proffer a single step towards the utilization of waste.

The Americans are more enlightened. A new idea is subjected to practical test and discussed afterwards, not destructively, but in the hope of being able to solve the defects which have manifested themselves in the experiment with a view to establishing the commercial success of the idea. While our house-building quidnuncs are leaving no stone unturned to prevent poured houses becoming an established practice, our engineers are setting to work in the American fashion, and as a result we are building poured concrete ships and other articles of utilitarian value. Possibly they are not poured in the strict interpretation of the Edisonian term, but modified according to experience which has been gathered.

In 1909 the International Congress on Tuberculosis assembled at Washington D.C. To stimulate interest in a house built along such lines as to comply with the searching requirements of perfect sanitation and which would be particularly adapted for occupation by persons suffering from tuberculosis, a reward was offered for the best model of a germ-proof house. A young Washington architect-engineer attacked the problem, submitted his conception for such a house, of the “poured” type, and because it triumphed over all competitors, which clung to the rutted line of thought, in the provision of light, air, and sanitation features, carried off the prize.

In this design the cellar which, if damp, forms an ideal breeding-ground for germs and disease, was eliminated. Floors, walls, ceilings, cornices, bath—all were of cement poured into moulds. In each room the floor was given a slightly sloping depression at one corner and provided with a suitable outlet and trap. The idea was obvious. The housewife on cleaning day did not raise impenetrable clouds of dust to pollute the room. She simply removed her furniture, together with all hangings, to be beaten in the open air. Then she turned on a hose and flushed floor, walls, and ceilings, the water escaping through the trap. No dust whatever was raised, and the room was left dry, sweet, and clean. There were many other features contributing to the general attractiveness of the scheme. The model aroused more interest than any other at the Congress exhibition, but, while one and all declared the house to possess every attractive feature, it was regarded as merely a fantastic conception.

But, within the past eight years, more than one little “poured cement” garden city has come into being in the United States. The first commercialization of the germ-proof house was made near Washington. It was run up and occupied within 30 days, and was conceded to be one of the prettiest and most comfortable homes in the countryside, although it cost only about £400—$2,000. To-day it is surrounded by many others.

The scheme has triumphed because the Washington architect-engineer, instead of deriding Edison and dwelling upon the defects of the idea, set out to overcome the problems involved, especially that identified with the moulds. He has succeeded. Instead of demanding an initial expenditure of £5,000—$25,000—upon this preliminary he has reduced the mould expense down to £100—$500. This brings the idea within the reach of commerce. He does not advocate a mould for the complete house, but pursues what may be described as sectional-stage moulding. Plates of steel are pressed into flanged sections 24 inches square. These are clipped and wedged together to form a trough to hold the liquid cement until it hardens. Above this row of plates is disposed a second similar row, forming another trough upon the top of that which has already been filled, and which is setting. When the lower trough contents have hardened the lower array of plates is rolled over to form another trough above the one in which the cement has been run, this overlapping process, as the wall hardens, being continued until the top has been reached. These plates also serve as forms for the moulding of the floors and roof, and are additionally attractive because they readily admit of the introduction of any desired artistic finish. It is a system which lends itself to cheap and rapid construction, as events have amply proved. That the “poured” germ-proof house, built in one solid block, possesses distinct advantages over the building carried out along orthodox lines is evident from the alacrity with which such homes are purchased or occupied, a tendency which is just as pronounced in this country as in the United States. This tends to demonstrate that while the man-in-the-street knows nothing concerning the pros and cons of building materials, he certainly does appreciate the overwhelming advantages of concrete, which, be it noted, is the logical antidote to jerry-building.

That the poured, one-piece house is not merely attractive because of its relative cheapness is evidenced by the number of stately homes which have been built in accordance with this principle upon the other side of the Atlantic. Seeing that these homes have been built to the order of, and are occupied by, those to whom cost is a trifling consideration, it would certainly seem as if the so-called defects of the poured house were more imaginary than real. I have seen magnificent homes, ranging in cost from £5,000 to £25,000—$25,000 to $125,000—built from foundation to roof upon the Edisonian idea. They certainly would have been promptly demolished and rebuilt in other material if the monolithic house possessed even the slightest sign of any one of the many ills to which it is academically said to be exposed.

Industrial corporations in the United States, as in Britain, are faced with problems concerning the housing of their employees. And they are just as perplexing to solve. The Delaware, Lackawanna and Western Railroad Company was concerned with the provision of homes for its wage-earners in the vicinity of one of its mines. The question was surveyed from every possible angle, and finally it was decided that the only really attractive solution was the provision of a little garden city of concrete houses, built upon the poured system. The authorities concluded that in this way only would it be possible to provide model sanitary homes, possessing every inducement, at an attractive price, and the project was handed over to the architect-engineer whose germ-proof house had aroused the interest of the International Tuberculosis Congress two years previously.

The houses are built in pairs, thus being semi-detached. Each is of two floors with flat roof, the accommodation comprising on the ground floor living- and dining-rooms measuring 11 feet and 11 feet 6 inches by 12 feet 4 inches, respectively, large kitchen, pantry, and commodious lobby with the projecting porch incidental to American homes. Upon the first floor are two bedrooms measuring 11 feet 3 inches and 11 feet 6 inches by 12 feet 6 inches, a smaller room, and a porch which may be used as an open-air sleeping chamber, if desired, or lounge, with the usual offices. The houses are set out after the manner now being followed in these islands, that is around the four sides of a rectangle, facing a commodious green and flanked on the opposite side by a deep green lawn. The roads skirt the village on all sides, the highway approaches to the inner square being diagonally from each of the four corners.

In carrying out the scheme the designer decided to utilize to the full the available materials upon the spot. This was waste from the adjacent mines, in the form of cinders, with hydrate of lime to give density and weather-proofness. Speed in construction being a vital factor, a novel system was introduced. A railway track was laid around the entire group of 40 houses. The mixing plant was mounted upon one flat car which was also equipped with an efficient apparatus to hoist the concrete. Behind this was a second car carrying the cement, sand, and cinder. The ingredients were shovelled into the mixer, work being continuous. The train pulled up before the first pair of houses, the moulds forming the trough of which were in position. The concrete was hoisted and discharged into an elevated hopper on the vehicle from which a feed pipe and spout was extended to the mould trough of the house-wall. The concrete was run into the trough until it was filled, when the stream was shut off, the feed pipe lifted, and the train moved on to the next house, where the cycle of operations was repeated. By the time the train had completed its circuit and had again reached the first house the concrete previously poured had hardened sufficiently to permit the moulds to be raised to form the succeeding trough, and so was ready to receive another pouring of cement. It will be seen that construction throughout the 40 houses was not only continuous but each supply of concrete increased the height of the wall by about 24 inches, or completed the flooring as the case might be. The building process was not only exceedingly simple, being free from all complicated mechanism, but involved the employment of the minimum of labour, which conduced to extremely cheap erection. The re-setting of the moulds occasions in this system no difficulty, inasmuch as being hinged they are merely swung up and automatically fall into position to form the mould. The work was commenced late in the year 1911 and was completed in the spring of 1912, having to be suspended during the winter months, when, of course, all building operations, irrespective of materials used, is brought to a standstill.

The houses provided in this manner are not only attractive, but are provided at a price bringing them readily within the reach of the wage-earner. True, one objection might be levelled against such standardization as it were, and that is the stereotyped design, but in this instance this is possible of decided relief by resort to tree, shrub, and flower embellishment in which individuality is given free rein, and which effectively breaks up all tendency towards monotony. But apart from extraneous treatment, the village cannot be described as being more monotonous than our terrace system of providing homes for the workers so common to our industrial centres, while even our much-vaunted garden cities are freely criticized from the general atmosphere of similarity.

However, it is cost of construction which constitutes the all-important factor, and the poured house has demonstrated what can be done in this instance. A similar cement city is under way for residential purposes upon the outskirts of Chicago. The bungalow type of house is being favoured here. In this instance cellar walls and first-story walls, measuring some 30 by 40 feet, have been poured in four days. The cost of construction has been exceptionally low, even for America where higher wages and charges prevail, the cost of building a 6-inch wall which in poured concrete is ample for either one-or two-story buildings, having been brought down to 4d.—8 cents—per foot, which is well below the cost of frame houses, admittedly the cheapest form of construction in the United States.

The poured house or any other system of monolithic structure wrought in concrete is freely assailed in these islands for being damp, intolerably cold in winter, hot in summer, and the walls liable to condensation. These are the popular objections raised against the idea. But the experience of those who live in such homes in America completely refutes such statements. The houses are declared emphatically to be bone-dry, exceptionally warm in winter with a freedom from draughts, cool in summer, and free from condensation. The latter defect, it is pointed out, even if it should become manifest, is not irremediable. The chemist can solve it quickly and cheaply. But the great feature which makes irresistible appeal to those who dwell in such homes is that they are always sweet and clean. Washing down walls, ceilings and floors of a room at one and the same time with a garden hose is something beyond the comprehension of British householders, but they will scarcely deny its virtues, and, probably, wish heartily that they were in a similar happy position, because nothing detracts so seriously from the pleasures and comfort of the home as dust and dinginess.

While we display an inexplicable hesitation to build a single house upon the poured system to discover the character of the objections which are said to obtain, thereby ignoring the precept that an ounce of solid fact is worth a ton of theory, we are steadily moving towards the concrete home, although the pioneers are being called upon to battle fiercely against the organized forces of prejudice, conservatism, and vested interests. In order to comply with national and other traditions, so far as practicable, the brick system is being followed. Machines have been devised whereby bricks, but wrought in concrete, are speedily and cheaply produced.

The outstanding characteristic of the most approved of these appliances is the ability to fashion brick-like masses of concrete of varying sizes and dimensions. One of the most handy machines of this character is the “Winget,” wherewith a wide variety of concrete formations may be fashioned cheaply and expeditiously, and adapted to every conceivable building requirement. This machine is noteworthy from the simplicity of its design and operation, compactness, and high speed of working, as well as imposing the minimum demand upon skilled labour. The concrete is not run, but is shovelled into the mould and tamped down. When charged the depression of a lever lifts the block, and in such a manner as to permit its ready removal by two men armed with a carrying bar fitted with forks which grip the under edges of the mass.

This machine has been extensively utilized in this country, and it has proved highly efficient in working. It is excellently adapted for the preparation of blocks or slabs from waste materials, such as the clinker refuse from electric light generating stations, dust-destructors, and other industrial establishments in general, as well as such other residues as coke breeze, chalk, and rubble. High speed of working, combined with the size of the block which may be turned out therewith, enables it to consume such material at relatively high speed. In a Midland town where aggregate of a waste character was required for the fashioning of such blocks, the whole of the daily accumulation of residue from the local electric light station, averaging seven tons, had to be supplemented by supplies of similar waste from private industrial establishments to keep the machine working steadily throughout the day.

With such a machine practically any form of inorganic residue can be put to useful constructional account. Its perfection is enabling private authorities to exploit profitably dumps of refuse which have long been eyesores in the locality for material to satisfy their own building needs. One gas company, which formerly contracted in the usual way for extensions to its buildings, generally in brick or stone, now completes all such work with its own labour and with its own waste, its one expenditure for material being the requisite cement. It encountered pronounced difficulty in disposing of the coke breeze or dust; it was virtually unmarketable. Conspicuous piles accumulated because it was disdained as fuel. The company acquired a “Winget” machine, and by mixing the breeze with cement converted the useless refuse into substantial building blocks. Those which it does not require for its own building operations find a ready market. The outstanding fact, however, is that all recent building extensions are carried out with concrete blocks prepared upon the spot from material which the company produces during the conduct of its business and which has always been considered waste having no commercial value whatever.

To the municipality, faced with residue accumulating from the refuse destructor, gas, and electric lighting installations, such a machine is virtually indispensable. It offers a complete economic solution to a perplexing problem. A certain amount of official building is always necessary, and concrete blocks with clinker forming the aggregate constitutes an ideal and inexpensive material. One great objection often raised against the utilization of cinder and other similar residue for this purpose is the dingy tone of the resultant block. But this need not constitute a handicap. If used for the external walls of cottages the concrete can be finished off in rough-cast, or may even be plastered and painted. In many instances excellent reproductions of half-timbered styles have been carried out in this material, and are far more substantial than those wrought in the conventional brick.

But the chemist must be harnessed to the development, that is if the most satisfactory results are to be obtained. It is the tendency to ignore the chemist which has been responsible for much concrete failure for homes in the past. It is imperative that clinker refuse be analysed. If it be associated with fused glass it is useless for the purpose, for the simple reason that the smooth surface of the glass fails to afford the requisite gripping surface to the cement. Unless care be displayed in this connection disintegration of the block will set in, in which event the concrete will be condemned as a failure when, as a matter of fact, it is the ignorance of the individual and the presence of the glass which are responsible for collapse. Similarly it is essential that the aggregate should be free from organic material. This may be intensely dry when the mixing of the concrete is taken in hand. But the organic material will absorb the moisture after the manner of a sponge, continuing to do so until completely saturated. As a result of this action the material necessarily expands, and so will bring about the breakdown of the concrete. Therefore, if full advantage be taken of the chemist specializing in constructional material in the scientific preparation of concrete, as is done in Germany and the United States, failures will be few and far between.

The authorities of our towns and cities are called upon to handle 5,300,000 tons of dust and rubble collected in the dust-bins of the population during the year. In addition millions of tons of similar refuse accumulate from the consumption of coal and coke by the thousands of industrial establishments scattered over the country. How much of this huge yield of waste is turned to industrial account? But an insignificant fraction, as is proved by its commanding no market value. Certain enterprising authorities, such as the City Fathers of Glasgow, by taking a little trouble, are able to dispose of the whole of their output of this residue and at a profitable figure. Surely what can be done by one authority is capable of being achieved by others up and down the country.

But clinker waste is not the only refuse adapted to building operations. Concrete is something like paper—can be made virtually from anything. There are few building sites which are not capable of yielding something in this respect. This was demonstrated very conclusively in the course of the development of an estate in Ireland. The work was most comprehensive, involving the provision of factories, workshops, farm buildings, and private residences. To prepare the site it was necessary to remove a substantial hill. Instead of excavating the obstacle, dumping and levelling the soil in the usual manner, it was turned into a “Winget” machine to be converted into concrete blocks, which were then utilized as the wherewithal for the construction of the buildings. The result was conspicuously successful, and it is doubtful whether the development scheme could have been carried out so economically and inexpensively in any other way.

There are welcome signs of revived interest in the possibilities of concrete for the building of our homes. In many parts of the country there are enormous hillocks which at the moment are nothing but eyesores. The pottery district may be cited as a case in point. These disfiguring piles have hitherto been ignored, although the localities are clamouring wildly for increased housing accommodation to satisfy the demands of their citizens. Yet these heaps are really potential mines of wealth. Associated with cement and deftly fashioned they can be converted into concrete bricks, the waste constituting ideal material for the aggregate, while, should we be sufficiently enterprising to acknowledge the possibilities of the poured cement house, their value is equally established. No city, town, or village in these islands should suffer from a shortage of houses for its peoples, and none need tarry for bricks. They have ample constructional material at their very doors to build as many houses as they can possibly desire. To turn these potential resources to account it is only necessary to abandon our moth-eaten shibboleths, revise our laws and regulations governing building operations, forget a good deal of what we are supposed to have learned in the past, and turn to science and engineering with a more enlightened spirit. By combining the artist with the engineer and the chemist, and by admitting the utilitarian possibilities of waste, all the difficulties assailing this country at the present moment in regard to one of its greatest sociological problems might be overcome, and the inhabitants of the British Isles provided with drier, more comfortable, and more durable and artistic homes than have ever been brought within their reach during the centuries which have passed, and at a fraction of the cost which is now held to be inevitable if brick is to be employed.