1900s washdays in working class London

These recollections of Monday washday in a working class family in the early 1900s in north London (then Middlesex) are through the eyes of a child. They were written in the 1980s by my mother, Florence Edith Clarke (born Cole), and are here as a service to other researchers and a tribute to her memory.

No running hot water, washing machines, spin driers, tumble driers, rubber gloves or electric irons - just hard physical grind

It always amazed me how women used to manage on washdays.

Washday was once a week, always on a Monday, and it took the whole day. It started somewhere between five and six o’clock in the morning when the copper in the scullery was lit to heat the water. There was of course no running hot water. The copper was a large tub built into the corner of the room, with a brick surround and a space underneath for a fire. I believe that in some wealthy houses, the copper really was made of copper but in all the houses I ever knew, it was cast-iron.

The whites (sheets, tablecloths and handkerchiefs) were washed first. They were put in the copper to boil while we had breakfast. The soap was carbolic, made by Sunlight, and my mother used it with soda. All the washing had to be rinsed two or three times. So the women had to be strong to lift it all in and out of the various baths. 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.

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 poured onto it. The process was rather like making custard or sauce. If the water was not hot enough, it would not thicken, and my mother had to keep stirring all the time to stop it going lumpy.

After the whites, the coloureds would be washed in the sink or a tin bath. My mother had to stand to do this in order to get enough pressure to keep forcing the clothes down onto the washboard. It was very hard work.

After the rinsing most of the water had to be removed before the clothes were hung outside on the line to dry. Small items could be wrung but most things had to be put through the mangle. A lot of energy was needed for this too, 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.

Then, in good weather, the clothes all had to be carried outside and pegged on lines. They were always pegged in such a way that the wind would blow through them and blow out the creases. The collars of shirts would be bent taut over the washing line and pegged where the collar met the rest of the shirt and pillowcases would be pegged at the open end loosely and on one side only so that they would billow out as the wind blew through them.

When the washing was reasonably dry, it was brought in and folded. The wind often blew the sheets and tablecloths out of shape and I had to hold them while my mother tugged them back. With her greater strength, she would often pull them out of my hands. This made her very cross, and she would say, "Haven't you got any gumption?" I only learnt later much later that this meant energy and commitment. Yes, I did have gumption, but I was a few stones lighter than she was. With hindsight, though, it is easy to see why tempers frayed on washdays.

The whites were rolled up while they were slightly damp, ready to be ironed the next day, and if they had over-dried my mother would sprinkle them with water first. Ironing was on a Tuesday. The iron, a flat iron, had to be heated on the stove and my mother would test the temperature, either by putting it close to her cheek or by licking her finger and touching the iron to see how quickly it went "psh" as the wet on her finger evaporated. In the summer, after the clothes had been ironed, they would be put out into the garden again to air, and the smell that came from them was wonderful. It was all desperately hard work but it was really lovely to get into bed between clean sheets that were washed at home and dried outside in the sun and wind.

To return to washday, things were very different in the winter when the rain, frost and snow came. Then the wet clothes would be hung on lines in the kitchen to dry, and after they were ironed, they would be put on the clothes horse or fireguard to air. My mother would always try to put the clothes out of doors if it was at all possible, and if the frost hung on all day, they would come in stiff like boards. Her fingers would be white with cold. This was called hot ache and could be very painful. In fact women's hands were always chapped and red. Even on high days and holidays, when everyone was dressed up, it was easy to tell which women did and did not have help in the home, just by looking at their hands.