Common Sense for Housemaids

by Ann Fraser Tytler

The dining-room, breakfast-parlour, and study, should each be cleaned in the same perfect manner, but as the mode of proceeding is in no way different, it is unnecessary here to enter into any further detail; a few words, however, may be necessary with regard to arranging a gentleman’s study; those days of thorough cleaning are days of horror to the literary man; he would rather have a lion let loose upon him than a cleanly housemaid; and certainly, with regard to dusting either books or papers, too much attention cannot be shown, as much mischief may be done by even shifting their places; books upon a table should be taken up only one at a time, dusted, and replaced in exactly the same spot, or, if the table requires to be rubbed up, the books should be placed on the floor in the same position in which they stood on the table, then taken up one by one, dusted and replaced on the table as at first. A housemaid should never exercise her own taste in arranging books in a gentleman’s study; however her contempt of 1st, 2nd, or 3rd volume may be overlooked in a drawing-room, it is a serious annoyance to the literary man to be obliged to hunt for the 2nd or 3rd volume of a work of which he has finished the first, through, perhaps, fifty others; but it is a still greater grievance to have a written paper misplaced, torn, or destroyed; the smallest scrap of writing, though found on the floor, or in any odd corner, should be considered sacred, and placed on the table in such a position as to be easily discovered; a weight should be put on any parcel of papers so as to prevent the draught blowing them away when the windows are opened, and the housemaid had better be content with carefully dusting round them rather than run the risk of misplacing them in any way; let it be remembered, however, that this is perhaps the only case in which it is better to dust round a moveable article than to dust under it, for this dusting round is a slovenly practice too often indulged in. A lazy servant will dust round a writing-desk or work-box, for a week together, without once taking the trouble to remove it, till, when taken up by some one, her negligence is discovered by the line of dust which surrounds each article. Where books in a book-case require dusting, one shelf only should be emptied at a time, and the books placed on the floor (after the carpet has been lifted) in exactly the same order as they stood in the book-case; the shelf should then be washed, and the books taken up, one by one, dusted, and restored to their former places, as soon as the shelf is thoroughly dry; care should be taken not to replace them while the slightest dampness remains.

The rooms having been all cleaned, and the doors carefully shut, the stairs must now be swept down, beginning from the attic story. The long brush called the Turk’s head, should be used first, to sweep away the cobwebs from the ceiling and corners, and to dust down the walls; the bannisters must be brushed between all the rails with a bannister-brush, and the hand-rail washed over and well rubbed up. The hand-rail should always be polished with French polish that oil may not be required, as almost every person who goes up stairs lays a hand upon the rail of the bannisters, and it is difficult to rub the oil off sufficiently to prevent its being unpleasant to the touch: wherever oil is used too great care cannot be taken to rub it completely off.

A lady was heard to complain, that a set of books which had recently been sent home, beautifully bound, were all found, soon after, to be spotted with oil; on inquiry being made, it was discovered that the housemaid, wishing to make everything look particularly bright in the drawing-room, for expected company, had washed the table over with oil, and, after very slight rubbing, had exercised her taste by putting all the best bound books round in a circle upon it, with a bullfinch in its gilt cage in the middle. This setting out of drawing-room tables with all the best-bound books had better be avoided; a small stand of books on a table, or a few scattered up and down, together with writing-desks and work-boxes, give a look of freedom and comfort to a room which it is very agreeable to see; but to find a table set out with a couple of books, splendidly bound, at each corner, the bible and prayer-book, in velvet, with their gold clasps, very probably opposite to a couple of volumes of Shakspeare and Lord Byron, and sacred poetry at the alternate corners: to see these books put out in January, 1850, to remain till January, 1851 (unless the family should remove for a time into the country), is a melancholy picture of the general literature of the inmates.

But to leave this literary discussion, and return again to the uncarpeted staircase. The next thing to be done, after rubbing well the hand-rail, is to wash down the stairs, and then, with a painter’s brush and pipeclay, go over the sides of each step where the carpet does not cover it: the pipeclay used for this purpose is generally mixed with glue, or what painters call size; but this size is often not quite fresh, which produces a bad air on the staircase; to boil the pipeclay with equal parts of water and milk, or with water and beer, is a very good substitute for size; it will rub off a little, but not nearly so easily as when water alone is used in mixing it.

If there are any spots of grease on the stairs, before using the pipeclay, scrape them off; then on each spot put a little of a mixture of strong soap lees and unslaked lime, let it lie for a few minutes, then rub hard and wash it off. A bottle of this mixture, well corked, should be kept always at hand, to take spots of candle grease or oil, either out of floors or stone passages; when used for floors it should be washed more quickly off, or it may be necessary also to lower it with cold water, as this mixture will discolour the boards if left on for any time. The stairs being finished with the pipeclay, sheets of very coarse brown paper should be laid down under each carpet, and each sheet turned in, so as to make it lie double at the edge of each step; this prevents the carpet wearing so fast as it is apt to do at the edges. Care also should be taken that the same part of the carpet is not always brought to the edge of the step, so as to cause that part to be worn shabby while the rest looks fresh: a little arrangement in shifting, sometimes higher, sometimes lower, will, in a great measure, prevent this. A stair-carpet should be cut at least half-a-yard longer than required for covering the stairs, and turned in at top and bottom, which will allow for this shifting. Attention also is necessary to stretch the carpet as tight as possible in laying it down, so that there should be no creases to be worn by passing feet; and also to see that the rods, after being well scoured with rotten stone and oil, and rubbed bright, should be so driven through the rings as not to get loose. By attending to these particulars, a stair carpet will look well as long again as when it is ill kept and neglected, and allowed to lie so long without being taken up, as to wear a mark at the edge of each step, which it is impossible afterwards to efface.

The floorcloth in the lobby should next be swept, then washed over with soap and water, with a sponge or flannel (but never with a scouring-brush, which some housemaids use), and rubbed up with a dry cloth; a little bees’-wax may be rubbed in, which improves the appearance, and also preserves the surface, but brisk light rubbing will be particularly required when the wax is used, both to give it a bright look, and to prevent the dust from sticking to it. Floorcloths should not be much washed with soap, as it injures the paint. When not very dirty, washing them first with cold water, and then with milk, will be sufficient; the milk gives them a very pretty gloss, and they are more easily rubbed up than when the bees’-wax is used.

As the steps from the outer door, the door itself, and all in the under-story belongs in general to the cook’s work, the housemaid may now be considered as having fulfilled her task, with regard to a thorough cleaning. We proceed, now, to mention the routine of daily work she has to go through in keeping all clean, and will also combine this with the parlour work, which, in families where there is no footman, frequently falls to the housemaid’s portion.

With early rising and active habits much may be done before breakfast, and much should be done, or confusion will ensue for the rest of the day. The housemaid’s work should be begun both in winter and summer by six o’clock, for as in winter a good deal must be done by candle light, it is less difficult to accustom oneself to awake always by a little after five o’clock, than to leave off the habit in winter, and have to begin it again; half an hour, or even a whole hour, of longer sleep will make very little difference in the feeling of comfort at the moment, and will greatly add to the difficulties of the day. As the sitting-rooms will require to be done out thoroughly, each in turn once a week, this will require three mornings from six o’clock, and even the time this will give may not be sufficient; some things may have to be left undone, which a considerate mistress will give the opportunity of being completed after breakfast. In some houses where the cook has assistance, the dining-room is under her care, this will give more time to the housemaid for the drawing-rooms and study; but still as the stair carpet will require to be brushed down oftener than once a week, and should always be done if possible before breakfast, the necessity of early rising at all seasons is very apparent.

The housemaid, before leaving her room in the morning, should throw open the window, draw off the bed-clothes and hang them over a couple of chairs, at the foot of the bed, and then carefully shut the door on leaving the room. Wherever there is a window to open to air the bed-room, the door should never be left open, as nothing is so untidy as for any one passing by to see the beds unmade, and the washhand-stand in disorder. She should next go round the lower rooms and drawing-rooms to unclose the shutters, and open the windows, that all may be properly aired; let her then proceed to prepare the sitting-room, which will be first wanted, and in which the family are to breakfast. The grate is the first thing to be attended to, as it is a general rule that what is to make most dust in cleaning a room should be done first. Begin by folding up the rug, and carrying it into the court below to be shaken, then spread a covering sheet before the fire-place. If it is the season when no fire is required, all that is necessary is to dust out the grate and sweep the hearth, giving the shavings a shake from dust—if there are shavings in the grate, or if white paper is beyond the bars removing it if necessary, she should then rub the bars and sides of the grate briskly with a soft cloth, which should be previously held before a fire to remove the possibility of any dampness, for the slightest damp will cause polished steel to rust. But in winter the grate will require much more labour: having carefully spread the covering sheet, let her place upon it the coal-scuttle and wood for kindling the fire, also her box, which should be well stocked with the following articles. Emery paste for polished steel, and black lead for grates which are not polished; soft brushes for putting on the emery paste and lead, blacking and polishing brushes, emery-cloth, now used for cleaning the bars in preference to emery paper, and a soft leather for giving the last polish. It is only now and then that the sides of a grate which is brightly polished will require to be cleaned with emery paste, and then rubbed up, first with a soft cloth, and then with leather; but every day the sides of the grate will require to be rubbed with a soft cloth, which has been previously heated, and the bars rubbed with emery-cloth, the dust and ashes having been taken away in the dust-pan before this is done, and the sides of the vent and the back swept down very gently, that the soot may not fly out into the room, with a brush kept for the purpose. Much smoke and discomfort may be avoided by the housemaid regularly, once a week, when the room is thoroughly done out, sweeping the soot from the vent, as high as the arm can reach; it is not possible to get a brush with a very long handle up the vent, but in the bed-room story, where the vents are shorter, the top almost may be reached by putting up first a short hearth brush, then tying it to a longer handle, and to another and another, as you raise it in the vent. It may appear almost unnecessary to describe how it is to be got down again, but to prevent all distress of mind to the young and inexperienced, it may be mentioned that it is to be untied at the different joints as it is lowered again, and also that when this operation is to be performed, which will be necessary only once, or perhaps twice, during the winter, a fellow servant should assist by holding a sheet before the vent to prevent the soot getting out into the room. Great care must be taken, that after the brush has been raised high in the vent, it be not flourished about in a triumphant manner, but used with the greatest gentleness in removing the soot. As soon as all has been cleared away, carried down stairs, and the grate rubbed up and cleaned, proceed to lay the fire and to light it. If the fire is properly laid, one half of the wood generally used would suffice; a clever housemaid has been known to light even the drawing-room fire (which requires more wood than the bed-rooms), with seven pieces of wood; this however requires the skilful hand of what would be called, in the language of the day, a talented housemaid; with moderate abilities, however, she maybe taught to light four fires with one bundle of wood, but even this will require attention and the exercise of common sense. If part of the ashes are left in a slovenly way in the bottom of the grate, so as to prevent the air from passing up, the wood thrust in without arrangement, a mass of cinders put on the top, and the window and door kept carefully shut, what is to be expected but that, as soon as the paper below the wood is lighted, the room should fill with smoke, and the fire go out before even the wood is burned away? The chief art in lighting a fire is to arrange it so that a stream of flame is carried up amongst the small coals, till they are so warmed and kindled as to burn of themselves: to effect this, the ashes and cinders should be entirely cleared out from the grate; then, having put a piece of paper, crushed together, in the bottom, and a few small pieces of the half-burned coal quite at the back, lay the wood above the paper so as to rest on those pieces of coal and on the front bar, taking care that they do not come out beyond the bar; lay some of the pieces of wood across the others, and, having formed this support for the coals, pile very small pieces, not larger than a nut, and very loosely, upon the wood, so as to leave room for the flame to pass up between them: the grate having been cleaned from the ashes, the air which comes in from the bottom will feed the flame, and drive it up through the spaces amongst the small coals, which, lying loosely together, will soon take a red heat; a sprinkling of the smallest coal should be added, as it flames easily, and is of assistance to the wood.

It is a very general practice with housemaids to pile cinders on the top of the wood, and then throw a quantity of small coal above them, the consequence of which is, that the air, not passing through to carry up the flame, the wood is burned away before the coals are lighted, and the smoke, not being able to penetrate this cake of coal, puffs out through the front bars of the grate, instead of going up the chimney, and soon fills the room, and (as the door is very generally left open, and the window kept shut), we may add the house also; for a careless servant, instead of waiting a few minutes to see how the fire is disposed to kindle, often leaves the room the moment she has set fire to the paper in the grate, and, having returned to the under story before the smoke begins, it is frequently first discovered by having reached the drawing-room, and, on examination, the bed-room is found to be in such a state from impenetrable smoke, that it is difficult to find one’s way to the window to throw open the sash. The paper on the walls, the curtains, and everything in the room, will receive more injury by being even once thoroughly smoked in this way than by six months of careful use. Care also should be taken that the register is opened before lighting a fire; in rooms where there is not fire during the day the register is generally shut, to prevent the back smoke getting down into the room, and the first thing a careful servant should do is to open the register before lighting the fire. Some chimneys vent better when the register is only half screwed back, so as to open only half the vent; some require to be entirely opened. A little attention will soon make the housemaid acquainted with the degree of draught which is necessary to carry up the smoke freely, and in most cases it will be found necessary to shut the door and open the window before lighting the fire; it is not the proper time to open the window after she has set light to the fire, for the chimney, being the only part in the room open to the air, the draught comes down the chimney, and brings out with it into the room the smoke of the new-made fire, so that before she has time to get to the window to open it the room is already half filled with smoke; she should therefore open the window first, which will make the proper draught for carrying up the smoke, and then set light to the fire.