As a child, I remember my grandmother boiling her clothes clean in a large black round pot, with a blazing fire of wood underneath. I’m not sure what sudsy soap she used, but her whites would sparkle bright.
She also used a washboard (we called them “rub board”) to rub clothes clean in an aluminum tub of water. Once the washing and rinsing were done, everything was hung on the line to dry in the fresh Georgia air and sun.
That was woman’s work then. Now, I have a washer and dryer and cannot imagine myself bending over a pot of scalding water, dipping in the whites or scrubbing the wash on a washboard.
My memories of her washboard, though, are pricked each time I see one of them at auction. I’m not sure if they are originals or reproductions, but I am drawn to them. I have three in my basement laundry room, propped up against a wall on the countertop. I use them for decoration, just as I would a painting.
I have two small ones – called Dubl Handi – that were produced by the Columbus Washboard Co., of Columbus, OH, which started making them in 1895 and still does. The Dubl Handi was one of 21 wash-board names introduced from 1931 to 1938. The company also makes a washboard instrument called “Uncle Willie’s Musical Washboard.”
My small washboards are about 18” long, and one has hooks for hanging. The ribbed scrubbing surface is metal, so it’s funny to read the instructions imprinted on both sides at the top (I’m not sure if these are original washboards):
On one side: “Use Either Side According to Fabric”
On other side: “Ideal for silks, hosiery, and lingerie or handkerchiefs. Just the right size to fit a bucket, pail or lavatory. Packs easily into suitcase or traveling bag”
Go ahead and scrub those fine silks against that scratchy metal. And don’t forget to drop a board into your suitcase on your next trip.
The nicest of my three is a little larger and looks original, based on the wear to the inscriptions and the bottom of the legs. Its ribbed scrubbing surface is opaque glass, and it was made by E. Murdock & Co., Winchendon, Mass. (which now produces boxes). It’s about 25” long.
Another old symbol of household drudgery that I got at auction was a rug beater. I don’t recall them from my past, but some of the ones I come across now are so nicely made that they look like works of art.
I have four rug beaters, all made of wire. The longest is 31” long and the shortest, 23” long. All have metal handles and two have loops at the end for hanging.
Rug beaters were much in use until vacuum cleaners appeared in the early part of the 20th century, according to the site rugbeater.com. The rug beaters came in various shapes and were made of such materials as wire, rattan, wicker and wood. They were used to beat the dust and dirt out of rugs, but this tedious chore also exhausted the beater. The task was part of a household’s spring cleaning ritual: Rugs were taken outside and hung on a clothes line or railing for beating.
I’m sure it was also a good way to relieve stress, frustration and anger.
Anger at having to do this chore certainly appeared to be the case in a 1940 Saturday Evening Post cover by illustrator J.C. Leyendecker. A little boy is whacking a rug with a hefty hand. Clouds of dust are swirling around him. Lying on the ground in front of him are a baseball, bat and glove. His left hand is balled into a fist and his face is red with anger.
The boy is using a rattan rug beater, which now would be considered a vintage item and likely collectible. A New York Times article from 1991 told of an exhibit at a New York art gallery of household items that included 250 vintage rug beaters.
