As we enter the post-Christmas Day season of queuing at the local tip, overwhelming recycling centres and providing an abundance of wrapping, packaging and upgraded possessions for our refuge collection services, is it time to rethink rubbish.
Whilst the scale of what we look to dispose of is probably at its greatest, as residents we have been wrestling with waste for a thousand years. Whilst some rubbish was tidied away in Viking and medieval rubbish pits, deeply sought after by archaeologists, household scraps, butchery offcuts, craft and industrial waste and other daily detritus were often thrown into the city’s streets, lanes and rivers.
The River Foss was dammed in the 11th century to form the King’s Pool, a broad, shallow lake on the eastern side of the city between the Red Tower and Fishergate Postern. The margins of this slow-moving large expanse of water became a popular dumping ground for York’s medieval residents.
At times the water quality may have been so poor that even those who lived on the banks of the river did not eat a lot of the fish that could be caught in the river.
As the city grew, so did the health risks from contaminated water, vermin and foul air. Animal waste from pigs, horses and dogs as well as the city’s butchers was a constant issue for the city.
Residents in Hungate, probably named after being over-run with dogs, were regularly complaining about the areas being used as a “horrible rubbish shoot” for the butchers of the Shambles for their unsold and rotten meat. Streets were “filled and obstructed” with dung and other filth; Royal orders were issued requiring York to clear away the “abominable smell” for the sake of public health and visiting dignitaries!
By the 19th century, York – like many British towns – faced a full-blown public health challenge. National Public Health Acts pushed local authorities to take more responsibility for drains, nuisances and refuse. In York, this led to the creation of a Medical Officer of Health and the Inspector of Nuisances (perhaps one of the best job titles in York’s history).
Their report books, preserved at Explore York Archives, show inspectors dealing with overflowing middens, insanitary yards, badly drained houses and other public “nuisances” across the city. These officials didn’t just grumble in notebooks: they were part of a shifting attitude that saw cleanliness, drainage and refuse as civic responsibilities rather than private problems.
Part of York’s answer was the York Destructor. In 1899 the city built a refuse destructor and coal-fired power station at Foss Islands Road, complete with a huge octagonal brick chimney that still dominates the skyline today. Household rubbish collected from across the city was taken here to be burned.
The heat from the destructor’s furnaces powered its own boiler, which in turn drove machinery in the Corporation yard; surplus steam could be used by the electricity generating station. Whilst not doing much for air quality, it was an early example of turning waste into energy.
As the 20th century progressed, rubbish dumping became more organised, with civic amenity sites, recycling centres, and, eventually, the familiar wheelie bins and recycling box collections.
York’s terraces were not built with wheelie bins in mind, their narrow back lanes often leading to long journeys for householders leading to gangs of bins loitering on street corners. The city’s historic buildings are often permanently scarred by large commercial steel bins.
What’s next for our constant appetite for producing rubbish?
Consuming less would probably be a good start but also, we should look to innovate our rubbish disposal.
The modern cleaner version of the York Destructor, the Allerton Waste Recovery Park, can process up to about 320,000 tonnes of household waste annually, generating enough electricity for thousands of homes as well as sorting recyclables and sending biodegradable materials to an anaerobic digester to produce biogas.
Could we look to European cities for innovative solutions – underground rubbish storage collected by electric vehicles. Does York Central offer an opportunity for a new chapter? Can we build on St Nick’s cycle-powered door-step recycling?
York’s rubbish story is not glamorous, but it’s a story of learning, innovation and public responsibility. It reminds us – quite fittingly at Christmas – that caring for a city means looking after everything we leave behind, not just what we choose to celebrate.
Andrew Morrison
Chief Executive, York Civic Trust