IS cleanliness really next to godliness, and should we wash our dirty linen in public? Well no, however, let’s take a look at washday, from Victorian times to today’s pursuit of dazzling whites.
Monday was usually washing day, which was probably the most dreaded day of the week for the Victorian housewife. Ordinary women were expected to be hardworking, yet always cheerful, but they found their lives all too frequently dominated by the sheer, hard slog of the home. Particularly Mondays meant a hard day’s work.
First, on washday, they had to sort the clothes, then fill a large wash tub with hot soapy water which had been heated in a copper.
Whites and delicate fabrics went in first, with the whites scrubbed vigorously on the washboard and the delicates dashed in the suds. Next the washed clothes were plunged into a second empty tub and boiling water poured over them. More soap was added, the tub was covered and the clothes were left to stew for half-an-hour or so. Finally, they were tipped out, drained, rinsed in clean water, and then given a final rinse with a bluing agent added. After came the back breaking task of wringing out by hand or with a mechanical wringer, and hung out to dry.
New fangled This whole process, which was usually done outside in the back yard, was repeated over and over again until all the batches of clothes had been laundered.
Some women who were comparatively well-off could afford to give out the family wash to a washerwoman; however, by the 1870’s mechanical help was at hand, but ordinary folk could not afford this luxury of a new fangled washing machine. Although, it wasn’t just throw your dirty washing into the tub, and the washer did the rest, these early contraptions had to be operated by hand, with paddles.
Even when the new century dawned, soap and elbow grease were the main weapons used in the war against grime on washday. This photograph, right, captured on February 21st 1905 at Tipton, perhaps shows a lady getting ready to stoke the boiler to heat water in preparation for washday. A washerwoman with washday blues sent her photograph to Miss Stevens, c/o Mrs Gough at 99, High Street, Brierley Hill with this woeful message.
“Dear Miss S. It was a miserable day today and I have been washing. How do you like that! Couldn’t peg out!” Or maybe she felt she would soon peg out under the strain of washdays! Although it wouldn’t really have helped any Black Country ladies at all, Alva Fisher of Chicago designed a motorised tub that turned, stirring the washing at the same time. Her rotary tub, electric powered washing machine, was on the market by 1906, and other machines soon followed. In 1911, the Maytag Co., launched the first washer with an electrically driven wringer, however these new labour saving devices were not available for Miss Stevens and her friend at Tipton; in any case they probably couldn’t afford such luxuries, even if they had an electric supply in their homes; which they probably didn’t! It would be decades before ladies benefited from this cleaning revolution, consequently this comic picture postcard (bottom left) sent on March 1st 1929 illustrated a lady still pegging along in the old fashioned way. Entitled “Epitaph on a Washer Woman” — the message on the reverse side is one that many local ladies will recall. “My Dear Child Daisy, Don’t attempt to come while the weather is so terribly cold. Have been washing this week, it was frozen on the line.
Hope all is well with you darling, love Mother. Love to you for ever Pat.” Socks bobbing along There is nothing quite like hanging your washing out on a line to dry; because washing dried this way in the fresh air has a smell of its own. It’s not only the electricity you save that is pleasing, but the fact that the wind presses it and so there is no need to iron. Can you remember the picturesque charm of washing lines strung out? I used to love them. Rows of snow white nappies, tiny little socks bobbing along like a row of ducklings, a pretty pink frock and a man’s shirt with long tails - one look and you felt you knew the whole family.
This postcard “Back and Front” was sent to Miss G. Davies at 61, Foley Street, Wednesbury from Ern in 1905. It reminds me of such a family blowing in the wind There’s something satisfying about hanging out a basket full of freshly laundered washing. Who needs that tumble dryer sitting there, tempting you with promises of speed and heat? I suppose if we are talking of cleanliness being next to godliness, most people think it is proved by having a whiter than white wash. It is easy these days with biological powders that have enzymes which chemically break down difficult protein stains. Now we even face the prospect of washing systems without detergents. However, it was so difficult when soaps were often made from animal fat and ash well into the 20th century.
During W.W.I there was a shortage of natural fats, so this prompted German scientists to produce the first artificial soap or detergent. Maybe in response to this after the war, Unilever in Britain developed the world’s first effective detergent in 1921. Marketed as Lux, it was an improvement on ordinary soap as it didn’t leave an insoluble scum. We are not sure if this young lady (right) wearing a snow white cap and apron was from the Black Country, but we do know quite a lot about her, thanks to a pencilled message on the back of the card. Her name was Marjorie, she was 9yrs 11mths, she weighed approx. 7 stone and was 4ft 8ins tall, and of course she was photographed to publicise Lux soapflakes.
Isn’t it amazing these days many want one of those old style sink as part of a fitted kitchen? They are not for me, as they remind me of those wash days in the Forties when I had to turn the mangle for my mom - and my feet used to leave the kitchen floor! Of course, once the war was over there was something new in the kitchen. All the 1950’s bride wanted was a washing machine with an electric mangle, but they didn’t always get one! Manufacturers of labour saving devices were still constrained by a shortage of raw materials, but scarcity only made them more desirable and naturally more expensive. Ladies were delighted, when after saving really hard for a washing machine, they were spared the drudgery and upheaval out of washday. Mind you, it still had to be dragged up to the sink for one hose to be fixed to the tap and the other in the sink for emptying. Still, that first Hotpoint Twin tub helped with those washday blues. And of course not forgetting a huge packet of Rinso which made rash promises of whiteness.
More and more women then were becoming exasperated with the hopelessly inadequate and often cramped facilities which existed in their kitchens. House builders during the 1950’s therefore came up with the answer - a kitchen and a utility, but of course I don’t believe anyone actually called it this new name. I can recall when my dear auntie Lily moved into her new house at Stone Cross, West Bromwich, we were all amazed at this novel arrangement.
There was a combined tub and sink unit, quite a leap forward for the Fifties - a house with two sinks! Kitchen technology has filled the gap left by the housemaid, the laundry maid and the skivvy, but through bitter washday experiences over so many years, what I want to know is - when will the laundry jump into the machine on its own, and then out again all washed, dried, ironed and ready to wear? All because, “I’ve still got those Washday Blues.”
