Their friendship sometimes struck Frances as being like a piece of soap-like a piece of ancient kitchen soap that had got worn to the shape of her hand, but which had been dropped to the floor so many times it was never quite free of its bits of cinder. ~ The Paying Guests
Most of us are fortunate to have escaped the need to use lye soap and its cinder residue. Besides its potentially gritty texture, the old version had an acrid scent and could be irritating to sensitive skin. Centuries ago, we didn’t have the options we have today; certainly, there were no gentle, hypoallergenic cleansers. Let’s take a look at old-school hygiene.
Why lye?
Once again, invention rose out of necessity + availability, and it started WAY before Americans learned about germs and became fanatic about cleanliness. The Cleaning Institute provides a little background. Via the discovery of canisters filled with “soaplike material”, we have evidence that soap making dates as far back as 2800 BC. And if you are skeptical of that finding, consider the first written record of the Egyptians’ regular bathing habits. It provides irrefutable proof that takes us back to 1500 BC., and describes the practice of combining animal and vegetable oils with alkaline salt. The Egyptians used this mixture for both treating diseases and for personal hygiene.
Why the word “lye”? It’s derived from the Old English word læg (or leag), which simply means water saturated with potash. And what is potash? An alkaline substance obtained by soaking the ashes of hardwoods. Definition provided by Etymonline.
Then the Evolution for Sensitivity's Sake
Well, not just for sensitivity’s sake. The old soap-making process used intense heat and was not scalable–not at that time. By the 18th century, soap makers developed a room temperature process whereby more of the oils retained their natural qualities, and using the end product wasn’t equivalent to using a Brillo™ pad. All of this from Rashguard, a totally fitting brand name.
The switch flipped again in the 19th century when manufacturers figured out a way to mass-produce soap using a version of the old hot process. They also began to ease off on “natural” ingredients and incorporate more of the synthetic variety. Once the public enjoyed easily accessible store-bought soap that was less harsh, fewer people were making their own in the traditional fashion.
One more factor in the increased use of soap in the 19th century was the cessation of a luxury tax on soap, which existed in several countries. After this tax was no longer levied, personal hygiene improved.
- Soap gets its name from Mount Sapo, according to an ancient Roman legend. No, the mountain wasn’t soapy, but the burned remains of sacrifices (wood ash and animal fat) that washed down the slopes into the river created lather.
- Romans began building baths in 312 AD and spread the use of soap as that empire spread.
- On the flip side, when the Roman Empire fell in 476 AD, it is thought to have taken good hygiene with it. Some believe this played a part in the spread of the plagues and thus the population reduction during the Dark Ages.
- Not until the 8th century did soap’s consistent use return to Europe, starting in Italy and Spain before other countries. Notably, the Japanese never paused their daily bathing routine.
- Until about the 13th century, England’s primary use for soap was in dye preparation, mostly for wool and linen.
But, Wait. Back to the Old Days
Well, back to the old days, kind of. People who are crafty and compelled to productivity often look to history for ways to alleviate the tedium of modern conveniences. Or they are, at least, drawn to retailers who offer products purportedly made the old-fashioned way. Thus, the return of lye soaps–now in a variety of shapes, scents, and colors, and now displayed in specialty stores. These days, however, neither the fragrance nor the use of these products will inflict permanent damage to either your olfactory senses or your delicate epidermis.
If you are curious about the process we are so lucky to have avoided, here’s the over-simplified version:
- Collect the ash from a hardwood fire.
- Soak the ashes with water in a container that has a drain hole. Continue to add water until the fluid draining is a clear amber. This is potassium hydroxide (lye).
- Boil the lye down until it is strong enough that an egg will float in it. But bad eggs float in any water. Got nothin’ there.
- Add rendered fat; boil for about two hours, stirring frequently.
- Add salt and boil for a few more minutes, then pour into molds.
If you’d like a visual, you can watch a demo here. It was made post-ash collection by the farmers at the American Revolution Museum in Yorktown. Note the recipe is at minute 2:20. Whether or not you have plans for a new hobby, you might want to give your Dove, Irish Spring, or Ivory bar soap a little squeeze the next time you shower. Those fragrant bars are some of the last commodities that are cheap, last for weeks, and don’t require hours of attention to create. Well, they don’t require your attention, anyway. Show ’em a little love.
Soap serves a purpose but it is a commodity. We might only need two or three types max. However there are hundreds and hundreds of brands. Brands are created by marketing people ( people who cannot make things) for the purpose of garnering as much shelf space for their company as possible. If you expand this process to all commodity products you understand we have gigantic grocery stores when you can put everything you need in a convenience store. I know, I am off on a tangent, but then that is where I live.
Two things. It takes all kinds of kinds and I know you are the last person who would object to people branching out to capitalize on a new idea. 2nd, convenience stores generally have limited produce and no fresh meat. So … 😉
Amazing Art. If i had known i would have told my Mother how smart she was. She made it in our wash kettle. Great for washing our clothes. We also owned a restaurant and sold our grease to people who made soap. Loved watching the lady line the box.