Based on childhood recollections
of working class family life in north London in Edwardian times.
It always amazed me how women used to manage on washdays when I was a child
in the early 1900s. There was no running hot water and there were no
detergents, washing machines, spin
dryers, tumble dryers or rubber gloves. It was just hard physical grind.

Sunlight carbolic soap used with washing soda for the
weekly wash before the age of detergents.
Washday was once a week, always on a Monday, and it took the whole day.
There was no time for much else, including preparing meals.

A washboard used in a sink of hot soapy water or tin
bath. Rubbing the washing up and down against the ridges forced out the
dirt.
Washday
started somewhere between five and six o'clock in the morning when the
copper
in the scullery was lit to heat the water.
Filling it took about six bucketfuls, all drawn from the single brass cold
water tap over the sink. There was of course no running hot water.
The whites (sheets, tablecloths and handkerchiefs) were separated because
they had to be treated differently: the whites for boiling and the coloureds
for soaking and then washing.

Wooden dolly used for agitating the water when washing
clothes - before the age of washing machines. The handles were held in both
hands and moved backwards and forwards.
Once the water in the copper was hot, some of it was baled out into a
wooden tub and the coloureds were put into that to soak. The whites were put into the
rest of the water in the copper and set to boil with soap and soda. We lived in a
hard water area, so the soda was necessary to prevent the soap producing scum.
The soap was carbolic, made by Sunlight.
It was while the whites were boiling and the coloureds were being soaked that
we had breakfast.
After breakfast the coloureds were washed in the wooden tub. Depending on
the wash load, some of the coloureds were washed by forcing them up and down
onto a washboard, a corrugated metal or glass sheet in a wooden frame. My
mother
had to stand to do this in order to get enough pressure to force the clothes
onto the ridges in order to get the dirt out, and it was very hard, hot, steamy
work.
Alternatively or additionally the washing was poked and agitated around in
the hot soapy water with a wooden contraption called a dolly. There were some
quite sophisticated ones with handles and 'stumpy 'legs' but it was also common
just to use a wooden stick. This also served to lift the washing out of the
water for rinsing, although wooden tongs were also used.
I assume that the wooden tub rather than a tin bath
was used for washing to keep the water hot. Wood would also have been quieter
than tin when the dolly was banged around in it. Unfortunately my mother
does not explain this. If you can supply further information, please let
me know. - Pat Cryer
All the washing had to be rinsed several times. It was put through the mangle
to get rid of as much dirty water as possible and then let drop into a bath
of cold rinsing water. It had to be mangled after each rinse.

Old Victorian or Edwardian mangle for removing water from wet laundry.
The mangle was a heavy contraption about four or five feet high with a handle
that turned two rollers. Wet items were fed through the rollers which squeezed
out the water. There was a screw on top to adjust the distance between the rollers
according to the thickness of the fabric. For blankets, the screw was let out
as far as possible. Buttons on clothes were made of woven linen so that they
wouldn't break under the pressure. A lot of energy was needed for mangling,
When I came home from school at dinner time [lunch time], I had to help by holding
the sheets as straight as I could while my mother turned the handle of the
mangle.
It was by no means unusual for children to get their fingers caught in the
rollers.
As the mangle was so large and took up so much room, it was kept outside the
back door with a sheet of tarpaulin over it to protect it from the weather.
In good weather the mangling could be done outside, but in bad weather the mangle
was rolled into the scullery.
The women had to be strong to lift sheets and tablecloths in and out of
the various baths because wet washing was much heavier than a dry load.

Blue bag to make the washing look whiter.
Difficult as washday was, the volume of washing was
nowhere near as much as today. Underwear was certainly washed
frequently, but thick top clothes tended have to last with just dirty
spots being sponged off. One sheet from each bed was washed weekly with
the last week's top sheet becoming the next week's bottom sheet.
(Bedding was sheets and blankets, as duvets were unheard of, and the
blankets were washed once a year in good drying weather in the summer) - Pat Cryer
The baths were oval galvanised ones of various sizes, with handles either
side so that they could be hung up on the wall when not in use. The final rinse
was in blue water from a bluebag which was a small muslin cloth tied round a
small cube of blue substance and kept in a bowl of water. It was important to
be sure that the bag never leaked because otherwise little particles of blue
would come out and leave small blue dots on the washing. Incidentally the blue
bag was also used to dab on bites and stings to ease the pain. The tablecloths
would be starched. Starch was bought in granules, looking rather like dry stem
ginger, and it had to be made up specially every time it was used, It was first
mixed with a little cold water, and then boiling water was quickly poured onto
it. If the water was not hot enough, the starch would not thicken, and if the
stirring wasn't rapid enough, the starch would go lumpy. The process was rather
like making custard or sauce.
If you have an old photo which would illustrate
this page, I would very much appreciate a copy.
Pat Cryer
After rinsing, as much water as possible had to be removed before the clothes
could be hung outside on the line to dry. Small items were wrung out but most
things had to be put through the mangle again.
Then the washing had to be dried,
outside if possible but otherwise in the kitchen. Then began the
clearing up.
This website Join me in the 1900s is also known as
Join me in the 1900's and is ©
Pat Cryer.