Laundry the old fashioned way
With all our modern conveniences, it is easy to forget how arduous everyday tasks were for our ancestors. Wash day in particular is one for which we take our modern appliances for granted.
Today, we gather the laundry and sort it, more or less, less if you’re one of my teen-aged sons. If it is a good day, we check for stains, pretreat the stains, then throw it all in the machine. Later we wander back to switch it to the dryer, muttering under our breath because the washer doesn’t have a buzzer to let us know it is done. At the sound of the buzzer, we return to dry, sweet smelling laundry, ready to fold and put away. Oh the horrors of it all!
How our 18th and early 19th century would envy us. For them, laundry definitely did not take place on a weekly basis and when it happened, it was a multi-day, all hands on deck experience. The ladies of the house, unless they were very high born, would work alongside the servants (at least until the Victorian era when more shunned the activity) in order to get the enormous task accomplished.
Sorting the Laundry
The wealthier a family, the more clothing they possessed, the longer they could stretch the time between washdays. The bulk of the laundry consisted of ‘body linen’. Worn next to the skin, under shirts, shifts, chemises and the like protected finer garments from skin oils and sweat that soiled clothing more than dirt from the outside. Consequently, finer garments were rarely laundered. These two facts explain why so much silk and wool clothing of the period survives for us to see now. Victorians added removable cuffs and collars to their garments for the same reasons. Removable-and replaceable-elements increased the garment’s lifespan by reducing the need to wash it.
Laundry days had to be carefully planned out in order to make best use of the resources. The process often began the night before, with sorting the laundry. Lights, darks, flannels, calicos and fine clothing would all be separated and a special pile dedicated to the most heavily soiled items. Often, the dirtiest laundry was set to soak in soapy water or lye the night before the actual process began to minimize the time and effort spent scrubbing the next day. All this sounds rather familiar, but the real work has not even started yet.
Getting Ready to Wash
A great deal of firewood needed to be available for laundry days. For a moderate size estates laundry, 150-200 lbs. of wood would be required to feed the laundry fires. Firewood might be gathered the day before, but if not, the laundress would need to move it laundry site that morning. That alone sounds like a substantial effort, but for her it was only the beginning. Once wood was gathered and fires started, water had to be hauled to fill the copper boiler and additional wash and rinse basins.
Laundresses preferred copper boilers because they did not rust and stain the clothing the way iron would. The typical boiler would need 20-40 gallons per load with an additional 10 gallons for scrub and rinse water. Depending on the location of the water source, this process alone could require miles of walking burdened with heavy yokes of water by the time the day was over. (Water weighs about 8 lbs. a gallon–do the math. I think I’d rather go to the gym.)
Not surprisingly, very large estates might have an out building dedicated to laundry where wood might be stored nearby and a water supply was more convenient. Such a building might also provide indoor drying space when the weather was inclement.
Of Lye and Laundry Bats
The laundress placed clothes in boiling water to loosen dirt, agitating them by hand with a washing bat, a two to three foot long wooden paddle. This was hot, heavy, exhausting work. After a quarter of an hour in the boiler, she removed the articles to a large basin of warm water to treat any remaining soiled areas with lye, soap or other stain treatment.
Plain lye formed the backbone of much of the everyday laundry cleaning arsenal and was fairly easy to obtain. Ashes from household fires were packed into a barrel with holes drilled in the bottom and lined with hay. Water was poured through the ashes and concentrated lye dripped from the holes.
Since soap was expensive and since lye could be made at home, poorer households might wash their laundry entirely without soap.
A variety of preparations might be used on stain clothing. Chalk, brick dust and pipe clay were used on greasy stains. Alcohol treated grass stains and kerosene, bloodstains. Milk was thought to remove urine stains and fruit. Ironically, urine, due to the ammonia content was often used for bleaching as were lemon and onion juice. Makes modern eyes water just thinking about the process.
To prevent fading, colored garments like calicos were not soaked or washed with lye or soda. They were washed in cold or lukewarm water by hand, rather than agitated with a bat. Ox-gall might be added to the water to help preserve the color.
Obtaining ox-gall meant sending a glass bottle to the butcher who would drain the liquid of cow’s gall bladders into it. Doesn’t that sound like what you want to add to your next wash cycle?
Articles that needed starching would be dipped in water that potatoes or rice had been cooked in and saved for laundry day. Laundresses were cautioned to make sure that the starch water had not soured or gone moldy before dipping clothing into it. Another appetizing thought.
Out of the Wash and on to Drying
Finally, after boiling, washing and rinsing, garments had to be prepared for drying. To speed drying, excess water had to be removed from the wet fabric. A wealthy household might employ a box mangle, a large contraption that wound laundry around rollers then rolled a heavy box over them to extract excess water. Few households could afford such a luxury.
More often, two people would work together to wring the water from the laundry by twisting. Afterwards, clothes would be hung on clotheslines-usually without clothespins, bushes, hedgerows, wooden frames or laid over the lawn to dry. Some estates and towns had drying greens, fields of grass for laundry to be dried upon. The chlorophyll in the grass and the sunshine also helped bleach fabrics. Inclement weather forced drying inside to kitchen and attic spaces.
As if this was not enough, after the laundry finally dried, nearly every article required pressing of some form. But the history of ironing is a subject for another post.
References
Kristina Harris. Victorian Laundry (or, Aren’t You Glad You Didn’t Live Then?) http://www.vintageconnection.net/VictorianLaundry.htm>
The Complexities of Wash Day in the 18th Century http://www.woodvilleplantation.org/Schedule/laundry_day_18th_century1.pdf
History of Washing Clothes http://www.oldandinteresting.com/history-of-washing-clothes.aspx
History of Laundry http://www.oldandinteresting.com/history-of-laundry.aspx
Michael Olmert. Laundries:Largest Buildings in the Eighteenth-century Backyard <http://www.history.org/foundation/journal/autumn09/laundries.cfm>
Victoria Rumble. Victorian Era Laundry & Housekeeping http://www.thistledewbooks.com/Featured_Articles/victorianera_laundry.html>
Madam Johnson’s Present Every young woman’s companion in useful and universal knowledge(1770)
When I was about twelve, our washing machine broke and the parts took several weeks to come in. My grandmother and I did the laundry for all of us on a washboard in the basement sink, wrung it all by hand, and hung out on lines to dry (we had no dryer). Lots of work, but it remains in my memory as one of my favorite times working with my grandmother – and hearing stories of her childhood.
You left out the cameraderie.
Camaraderie is a good point. I am sure that there was that going on as well, at least in some cases. I’m not sure there would be as much with professional char women who did laundry as a living thought, but I don’t know for certain. Great point, Catherine!
I may just go downstairs & kiss my water & dryer right now!
I had the same thought when I was writing this!
We had a water pipe burst and had to cut off the water to the house until it could be fixed. We already had bottled water for drinking. Our next door neighbor was kind enough to offer the use of their outside hydrant so we could have water for other needs. Over a time period of about 4-days, I carried about 20 gallons of water between our houses. I didn’t realize how much water it took to flush the toilet. I heated water for our sponge baths and had a whole new appreciation when our pipe was fixed and we had water back in the house.
When I was a kid, my grandmother had one of the old wringer washers. I thought it was fascinating as I watched her put clothing between the rollers and it squeezed out the excess moisture. We so take for granted the spin cycle on our washers today. This was a fascinating historical post. In the movie ‘The Girl with the Pearl Earring’ we see her learning how to do the laundry from their maid of all work. She did many of the things you mentioned. Delightful post. Delightful post.
I think we don’t appreciate modern plumbing nearly enough. It really is amazing how it makes modern life possible. My grandmother had a wringer washer too. It was fascinating as a kid. A little scary too…
Before my great-grandmother passed away I asked her which of the modern inventions she appreciated the most. (She was born on a farm in 1898.) She said running water.
I do a lot of historical costuming – Viking, Regency, Tudor and Elizabethan. When I need to launder my (handsewn, hand embroidered) historical “body linen”, I’ve found using a short handled sink plunger, dedicated to laundry use only, is very handy for getting water/soap through the fibers. And I use baby shampoo as well, it’s very gentle, inexpensive and easy to rinse out.
Most of the time I only wash the evident spots – arm pit area, hem, cuffs or other parts that show from under the outer clothing. I would only fully wash the garment after wearing it a few times. Do this saves time, effort and makes the garment last that much longer. I can imagine laundresses of yesteryear would do the same thing.
Goodness, and I thought that laundry day was exhausting now! once when our machine broke and we didn’t have money for the laundromat, I washed a few loads in our bathtub. It was when I had infants and toddlers in the house, so there were lots of little pieces. I did throw them on the rosebushes to dry–it worked great!! Fortunately, I only had to do one week’s worth. Jeans are the *worst.*
Thanks for the wonderful post!!
Warmly,
Susanne 🙂
I’ve washed jeans in a bathtub and it was quite the workout! WE definitely don’t appreciate the washing machine nearly enough! Or modern detergents, but that’s another post…
Back in the late 70s, hubby and I lived in West Africa for two years. No washing machine, dryer or running hot water. Sometimes, no running water at all! Thankfully, modern fabrics meant that clothing could be worn washed after only one wear, as the climate meant we needed to change from the skin out on a daily basis. So, when I got home from work around 3pm, the previous day’s clothes would be pre-treated where needed (collars and cuffs scrubbed etc), then left to soak in cold water and detergent until the next day. Then they were rinsed and hung to dry, before repeating the whole procedure with the previous day’s. In that climate (90F plus), no need to wring before hanging to dry! I did have a day off on Sundays! Everything that was dried outside had to be ironed, as some flies could lay eggs in the clothing and the grubs would eventually hatch. Can you imagine what ironing did to the elastic in your underwear? Droopy drawers!
So, I can sympathise with those who had to do the laundry back then.