Beauty in the Little Things / A Woman's Work ... Victorian Housekeeping


What must it have been really like for a Victorian women to have been
homemakers and housekeepers--to be cooks, chemists, seamstresses,
psychologists, nursemaids, accountants, bakers, hostesses, and so much
more--all in a time when these chores and responsibilities would have to be
done without the simple "flip of a switch".  For the Victorian housekeeper,
each and everyday had its own duties and chores.  Her life was demanding
and filled with responsibilities.  Any tricks she could come up with to
save some time were critical.  Rising before the sun came up, for example,
may have not only been suggested by the advice manuals as a way to avoid
the summer heat and accomplish an entire day's work before noon, but for
the average middle-class woman (who worked along with her one servant--or
no servant at all--), this was just the way her routine had to be in order
for her to accomplish the day's tasks, and it must have been quite daunting
for her.

The very first thing that had to be done before all else was for a fire to
be kindled in the cookstove.  Then, the table was set, breakfast prepared,
the family fed, and the dishes cleared.  Without delay, the dishpan was
filled with water which had already been warming on the stove during
breakfast.  Silverware was washed first, then glassware, cups, saucers,
plates, and lastly, the more difficult or dirty cookware.  To remove
resistant residue on iron, steel, or tin, chain-mail scrubbers were used,
or a bath brick (a solidified clay from the English River that served as a
scouring powder).  Woodware and brass were cleaned, then the stove was
wiped off, and finally, the floor was swept. Now that the kitchen was tidy,
the daily special chores chould begin, and these usually varied from
day-to-day. Monday was "Laundry Day", also known as "Blue Monday".
"Soaking" had already begun well before, as early as Saturday
night for those whose religious beliefs forbade them from any type of work
or labor on Sunday.  The Utility Room contained no electric washer or
dryer, no detergent powder, no liquid bleach, no boxes of softner sheets,
nor any cans of spray starch.  Instead, the laundry room shelves would have
been stocked with bars of strong yellow soap, cubes of hard-packed blue
powder, called 'bluing"--the bleaching agent of Victorian days, a scrub
brush, the washtub with a corrugated metal washboard braced inside, and
finally, a wringer.

On Monday morning, after the "rinsing", each article of wash was fed
through the huge rubber rollers of the wringer, while the woman used one
hand to turn the gigantic iron wheel.  The laundry was then put through two
washings on the corrugated washboard.  Next, the laundry was boiled for 20
minutes in a third tub of soapy water before being transferred with a
wooden "fork" to a tub of water for a "cold rinse".  After a final rinse in
clear water that was tinged lightly blue from the "bluing cube", the
laundry was once again passed through the wringer. If any items needed to
be starched first, they were set aside to be dipped in and rubbed with a
solution that was so hot, a tub of cold water was always nearby so that the
woman could continually dip her hands into it to prevent scalding.

Finally, the clothes were taken to the backyard and hung with wooden pegs
from clotheselines to dry.  On especially cold or rainy days, the laundry
was taken upstairs to the attic where lines were strung from wall to wall.

While the clothes were on the lines to dry, lunch could be set out.
Monday's meals were intended to involve as little preparation as possible
since the day was already so busy.  Large Sunday meals usually provided
leftovers for Monday, or perhaps something roasted in the oven could be
served, along with potatoes and carrots, a canned vegetable, and a simple
dessert, such as baked apples, or cookies.  This would allow the woman time
in the afternoon to scrub porches and to clean the laundry area/scullery
floor with the left over wash water.

It would be late afternoon before the clothesline could be emptied, and the
items (except for towels) would be sprinkled and rolled, ready for ironing
the next day.  With all traces of 'Blue Monday" cleaned up, the evening
meal could then be served. Tuesday was "Ironing Day".  Supplies needed for
ironing in the 19th century included a skirt board, a bosom board (for
shirtfronts), a sleeve board, an ironing table, a dish of water with a
sponge to dampen clothes or to wipe away extra starch, a fluting iron and
fluting scissors to properly "finish up" ruffles, a number of flatirons
that each weighed between 5 and 8 pounds, and padded-cotton "potholders" to
wrap around their hot handles. The irons were heated on a trivet over the
stove fire, and while one iron had cooled down and was in the process of
being re-heated, the next could be used.  To keep the iron from sticking to
fabrics (today they are covered in Teflon), a piece of beeswax held inside
a scrap of cloth was rubbed across the iron's hot surface. Ironing the
clothes, sheets, and table linens was a slow, agonizing process.  Various
fabrics required varying weights of irons, and some required repeated
passes over them.  For example, lace had to be ironed repeatedly, but
embroidery could simply be ironed on the wrong side over flannel.
Shirtfronts needed to be ironed on a bosom board, then starched by using a
"polishing iron".  With the many changes of irons--plus having to re-heat
each one in between--and the heavy, bulky fabrics that were used, along
with the many changes of boards for each job, Tuesday was a long, hot,
strenuous day! Wednesday and Saturday were the days of the week typically
assigned as "Baking Days".  Most Victorian households made their own
breads, cakes, pies, cookies, etc., and it was a time-consuming and tedious
job.  Many housewives began making their bread first thing in the morning,
just at the break of dawn.  The process had actually begun the night before
with what was called, "setting the sponge".  Even when quick-rising yeasts
had been available for sometime in the stores, many women still preferred
to use the "old-fashioned method" which required a night of "working" for
the yeast in a spongy batter before it was kneaded with flour into bread
dough. BREAD SPONGE

Six potatoes boiled and mashed white hot,
two tablespoons of white sugar, two of butter,
one quart tepid water;
into this stir three cups flour;
beat to a smooth batter,
add six tablespoons yeast;
set overnight and, in the morning,
knead in sufficient flour to make a stiff, spongy dough;
knead vigorously for 15 minutes,
set away to rise, and, when light, knead for 10 minutes;
mold out into moderate-size loaves,
and let rise until they are like delicate or light sponge-cake.

(From "Buckeye Cookery", 1878)

While the dough was set aside to rise, other chores could be tended to,
such as breakfast duties, or perhaps preparing any needed pastries or
cakes.  Also, and possibly most important, it was a good time for "putting
right the panty".  This meant the time when the methodical housekeeper
organized her store room, being sure that the shelves were clean or freshly
papered, jars were properly labeled, tins were tightly covered for
freshness, and cayenne pepper was sprinkled in the corners of the shelves
to keep away rodents and insects.  This was the time, also, for the woman
to take stock of her supplies and to begin her list for "Market Day", so
that she never ran out of anything.

During all this time, the oven would have been heating--a process which was
much trickier than you might suspect.  It required experimentation,
experience, and good judgment.  Today we simply flip a switch to the
temperature we want, but 19th-century wood and coal stoves had no controls
and no temperature guage.  Therefore, to determine if the oven was at
"bread-baking-readiness", the oven had to be able to brown a piece of scrap
paper in five minutes or a piece of crockery in one minute.  Other women
preferred to use the "arm test"--that is, the length of time the arm could
be comfortably held inside--a moderate count of 20 was about right for
bread and cakes.  Baking time then varied from 45 minutes to an hour, and
when the loaves were thoroughly cooled, they could be stored in a dry,
well-covered container.

Thursday and Friday were general house-cleaning days.  The Victorian
housewife was conscientous about her home, and she took pride in her clean
and tidy domain.  The full cleaning usually began by draping dust covers
over the furniture and then opening the windows to expose any hidden dirt.
Curtains, mirrors, and picture frames could be brushed with a feather
duster, but the ornate carvings on Victorian furniture and moldings might
have called for the use of small bellows to blow out the dust.  Carpets
were swept, but in order to keep dust from flying all over the room,
dampened tea leaves, coffee grounds, or sometimes, freshly cut grass was
first sprinkled on the carpet.  When dusting and sweeping was completed in
one room, the dust covers were removed from the furniture, taken outside
and shaken, then carried to the next room where the process began again.

In the kitchen, the black iron stove would be cleaned thoroughly, using
soft soap and a flannel cloth, then polished to a glow with stove polish.
The sink and drain were flushed with carbolic acid, then it was time to
clean the floors.  If they were painted, they were simply mop-rinsed.
Varnished floors, besides the mopping, also received a rub-down with
kerosene on a flannel cloth.  Should a cooking-grease stain have appeared
on a wooden floor, the housewife would saturate the spot with heated lye,
then scour it with ashes, using a stiff-bristled brush.  Finally, the wood
floor would be cleaned all over with hot water, and then rinsed.

Most all Victorian families kept the same routine.  Rugs and draperies were
shaken and aired twice a month, even in rooms that were seldom used.
Carpets were sponged clean several times a month.  Windows were usually
washed once a week.  What's more, time needed to be set aside for other
duties and tasks, such as making butter, shopping, making soaps and
shampoos, and sewing the family's clothing.  Clothes were primarily made at
home, so there was always some sewing project going on.  If it was not time
to be making new clothes, then there were always exisiting clothes that
need repairs, or some darning that needed to be done.

There were seasonal tasks and jobs to take care of, as well.  Naturally,
there were the holidays, which brought about extra work and demanded more
time and effort.  In addition, the summer and the fall meant time for
canning and preserving, while the spring (and fall, as well) required
massive, full-out house cleaning from top to bottom---that is: "Spring
Cleaning".

Beyond keeping her home clean, "company-ready", and cheerful, the Victorian
housewife was also expected to decorate it with taste, entertain
gracefully, set moral standards for her family yet mother nurturingly, shop
wisely, economize smartly, and keep a budget.  The smaller the family
budget, the more ingenious she needed to be.

It was not at all an easy thing to have been a Victorian homemaker,
especially one without servants.  With all the advice given by books and
magazines on etiquette, raising children, home maintenance and
expectations, many women felt guilty if they could not seem to meet the
Era's standards of perfection.  Most were overwhelmed by the demands made
on them.  By the time they crawled into bed at night, exhausted, they felt
still guilty because they hadn't had enough time during the day to complete
any number of tasks, or to "improve themselves" by reading!  On top of
everything else, they were still "wives", and they had "marital duties" and
expectations, as well.

Eventually, reality superseded the demands to be perfect, and women learned
that they could only give their best effort and hope that it was enough.
Stereotypes from the era followed women for decades--even into the 1950's
(television, afterall, depicted mothers doing their vacuuming, dusting, and
housework in high-heeled shoes and pearl necklaces)--but even then, most of
us knew that those expectations were unrealistic.  Yet, when we look around
ourselves and realize all the modern conveniences we have tody that the
19th century housewife did not, we must step back a bit in awe and wonder,
and admire her for just how very much she was able to accomplish and to
achieve.

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