Order, Cleanliness, Punctuality—Early Rising—Temperance in Meats and Drinks—Ventilation—Bed-rooms—Nurseries—Light—Influence of Good Management upon Domestic Love and Happiness—The Dinner Question—Going to Market—Dinner Parties—Evening Parties.
In the realm which our housewife is to govern, order, cleanliness, punctuality and economy must be the fundamental principles which, by precept and practice, she endeavours to enforce. It matters little whether her subjects are limited to a single maid-of-all-work, or general servant, as it is now the fashion to call this class of domestic, or whether she reigns over two, three, or more “helps,” the principle must still be the same; a certain routine of daily and weekly duties must be laid down, and it lies with the mistress to see that not only these are performed properly, but that all incidental matters are likewise attended to. However wealthy a family may be, they are not willing that their houses and furniture should be injured by neglect or mismanagement, therefore must care be taken. Money can enable a man to hire more domestics, but it cannot secure that these persons shall be cleanly, diligent, trustworthy, and painstaking; it cannot secure him from the consequences of their ignorance, their carelessness, their extravagance. Nothing but the supervision of the mistress, or a good housekeeper, can do this. If, then, a rich man, who can pay the best wages, and hire the most experienced servants, finds still that he lacks something, how much more so will one of moderate income or of limited means suffer, should he not find in his wife a practical housewife?
What I am now about to say, some of my readers may perhaps think out of place; nevertheless I shall say it. A woman cannot really do her duty as a wife, mother, or mistress of a family, unless she is fully sensible of the importance of health, and gives to all sanitary measures their due attention. With loss of health come diminished powers of usefulness. Languor and delicacy in a wife may call forth the sympathies, but do not increase the comforts or happiness of a professional or business man; neither do they render a woman more inclined for, or equal to, the performance of her part in domestic life. And too many of our young girls render themselves languid, feeble, and delicate, by inattention to the commonest requisites of human nature. The crying evil of towns is usually the want of baths attached to houses, and the small size of bed-rooms; now these are in general accepted as things which must be endured, and little or no attempt is made to palliate them. All medical men, however, agree that plentiful ablutions of the body with cold or tepid water, and a good supply of fresh air in every sleeping and living room, do more to preserve health than all the drugs in the pharmacopœia. And next to these come early rising, avoidance of late hours and crowded assemblies, regular exercise in the open air, and attention to diet. By this latter we do not mean actual eating, but abstinence from pernicious viands, as pastry, sweetmeats, rich gravies, unripe fruit, &c. Pork, veal, and various kinds of vegetables can only be eaten sparingly and occasionally by some persons. Spirits should only be used medicinally, that is to say, at times when common sense tells us they might be of benefit. To take them habitually is equivalent to slow poison.
Besides the benefit a woman derives in her health and person from attention to all matters relative to personal care, she will gain another in the effect of her example upon her dependants; for we are all, to a certain extent, creatures of imitation, and prone to follow example, be it good or bad. Servants who see before them one who consistently practises the virtues of economy, regularity, personal cleanliness, and general neatness, will never run diametrically counter to all this, but will in some degree shape their conduct accordingly; while all the precepts in the world, without practice, will but go in at one ear and out at the other.
Where only one or two servants are kept, the mistress will do well not to leave her chamber before she has opened her windows and laid the bed-clothes back over two chairs, so as to ensure the sheets and blankets, heated by the contact with the body all night, being well aired and cooled. No bed should be made, or night-dress folded up, until it has been aired, and suffered thoroughly to cool for at least two hours. Nurseries should be aired while the children are at breakfast, and while they are taking their morning walk. Dining and drawing-rooms require a current of fresh air passed through them at least once every day, to dislodge all the vitiated air tainted by the smell of food, flowers, &c., and by having been inhaled by those using the rooms. Many of our readers have doubtless been struck, on entering some houses, by the close, faint, unwholesome smell they, coming from the fresh air, at once perceive. Those who dwell in it habitually are not conscious of it. They dread the chill of fresh air, or the dust or smuts it will bring with it into their rooms; and therefore shut it carefully out, and cherish in its stead a species of slow poison—a heavy atmosphere loaded with all sorts of pernicious gases.
Light, too, is another forbidden luxury in some houses. Heavy Venetian blinds jealously protect the delicate hues of the curtains and carpets from its influence, and the inmates consequently fade, instead of the upholstery; for a human being can no more do without light than can a flower, and we only need place this latter in a cellar for a few days, and we shall see how it will look. It must not, however, be supposed that we would recklessly suffer the noonday sun to shine on our damask curtains or tapestry carpets, or that we should open our windows when rain, hail, or snow beat full upon them; all we wish to do is to advise such a use of God’s choicest gifts as health requires, and common sense dictates.
Nor is it only with a view to exercising a salutary influence upon her domestics, and strengthening herself, that we would counsel our housewife to pay strict attention to all matters of sanitary importance. A female writer of some celebrity has said—“If before marriage a woman has been deluded into the notion that a multiplicity of small ailments invested her character with an interesting kind of delicacy, the sooner she becomes well after marriage the better for herself and all around her.”
Now we do not intend to assert that there are not many men who are unwearied in their tenderness in time of illness; but this we must say, that there are thousands more who “vote sickness a bore,” who have little sympathy with, little tolerance for it; who married to have a cheerful companion, not a drooping, languid invalid to come home to; and who soon begin to seek elsewhere that companionship and that cheerfulness they have failed to find at home. And alas! when a man’s love has once been dimmed, or alienated from his wife, it never wholly recovers its lost lustre, but remains a mere mechanical matter of duty or honour, and too often not even that. Matrimony may bind a man to his wife legally, but herself only can retain her empire over his heart; and to do this, she will need even more than her former charms, and attractions, and fascination, besides a vast variety of other attributes which her new position will require of her. Our great poet, Shakspere, says—
“Thy husband is thy lord, thy life, thy keeper, Thy head, thy sovereign; one that cares for thee And for thy maintenance—commits his body To painful labour both by sea and land, While thou ly’st warm at home, secure and safe; And craves no other tribute at thy hands But love, fair looks, and true obedience.”
Women little dream what they peril when, after marriage, they neglect the accomplishments, the tasteful dress and adornments, the charming coquetterie of manner which enthralled the lover. They not only risk their happiness, for it depends on him, but they neglect what ought to be their highest ambition—that of proving how much dearer is the wife than the mistress, and of rendering home a refuge from cares, a scene of tranquil happiness, social enjoyment, and real comfort.
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There are few things more perplexing at first to young housewives than the momentous question of dinner. Now, a good cookery book, a short walk round the region where the marketing is done, and a knowledge of family likes and dislikes, will generally enable even a novice to arrange this important matter, at least so far as the ordering goes, the cooking being another consideration. A glance at those pages in which we give a list of the things in season for each month, will assist the housewife in her selection for the table, and enable her to cater for variety, whilst a visit to the market will enable her to expend her money economically. Things must not only be “in season,” but “in reason,” to make a moderate income productive of the greatest degree of comfort.
Joints should always, when weather permits, be purchased fresh, and then hung as long as is deemed requisite to fit them for eating. A knowledge of the sauces and condiments appropriate to every dish, is a subject well worth attention.
Fish should be chosen by touch and look. If it feels flabby and looks pale about the gills, and dull about the eyes, it is to be avoided; firmness of body, brightness and fulness of eyes, and ruddiness of the gills, are signs of freshness.
Crabs and lobsters must be selected by weight, not size; and the olfactory organs must be employed to test their sweetness.
The cooking of vegetables is an important point, and one in which we may derive much useful instruction from our continental neighbours. Vegetables cannot be too fresh; in large towns we can form no idea of the real flavour and delicacy of green vegetables, accustomed as we are to have them at least a day after they are cut.
We have already spoken of the desirableness of dealing regularly with respectable tradesmen, but no rule is without its exception; and those who are pretty good judges of articles of provision, may often obtain some variety by looking about for them.
Servants should always be accustomed to lay the cloth and serve dinner as neatly when the family is alone as when company is expected; they should likewise be taught to bring up and place on the table or sideboard everything likely to be required during the meal, and not have to leave the room repeatedly on trifling errands. The mistress should glance around to see that all is there; and if she perceives omissions, mention them before dinner commences. Servants should also be taught to wait at table without bustle or noise; to remove plates, &c., without rattling them; to open and close the doors gently; to lift covers from dishes so as not to let the drops of condensed steam fall on the table or those seated at it. If these things are ordinarily insisted upon, the mistress of the house will not, when she gives a dinner party, sit on thorns, trembling lest some gaucherie be committed.
Those who would give dinner parties must generally speaking, if their ménage is small, hire a cook. A small, well-cooked, well-chosen dinner, is far preferable to a table crowded with dishes. Symmetrical arrangement of the dinner-table, too, is a powerful adjunct. The silver should be bright, the glass sparkling, the table-linen pure and snowy, the room well lighted, of comfortable temperature, and well ventilated. The pleasure of eating a good dinner is greatly enhanced when comfort is studied, and taste gratified.
The wines should be good; it is better to give only one or two kinds, and let those be choice, even though they be only old-fashioned port and sherry, than to aim at greater things, and set before the guest those “cheap and nasty” productions of other vintages.
The reduction of duty upon French wines has rendered available for the English table many choice and light wines hitherto prohibited. English taste, however, has not yet been cultivated in this direction to such an extent as to render these liqueurs universally palatable. They should be made subsidiary to the more established wines, and should be introduced principally in warm weather.
Choose the company carefully. Ill-assorted guests are difficult to please, while persons who assimilate find additional zest in their social enjoyment.
The dessert should be well selected and more choice than plentiful. By choice, do not let us be understood to mean extravagant, consisting of fruits not yet in season or having their proper flavour, or of preserved fruits or fancy confectionery. All these are prejudicial to health, and we cannot understand why people who dine out should be tempted to eat indigestible things, or those which will disagree with them; why what ought to be a means of social enjoyment, should be made a matter of form, ostentation, and discomfort. Let the dessert consist of fine specimens of the fruits in season, backed in winter by a few dried fruits and biscuits.
There are so many varieties of evening parties that no directions can be given respecting them. As a general rule, we should advise that they should be as simple, unostentatious, and social, as possible. It is the extravagance which has been introduced into these matters, the insane desire of outvying each other felt by individuals, that is the bar to real social enjoyment, and prevents us from being as lively a people as our continental neighbours. Why cannot we meet to converse, have music, dance, or amuse ourselves in any rational way, and be content with light, simple refreshments, and a sincere welcome? Surely such réunions are more enjoyable than crowds, grand suppers, superb toilettes which are scarcely seen in the crush, and suffocating heat or currents of cold air. Such assemblies upset the house of the party-giver for a week at least, weary and worry her, and are criticised most severely by all her “dear friends” who did not enjoy themselves, or receive the attention they expected. In them all is most certainly “vanity and vexation of spirit;” there is no pleasant converse, no comfort, no intellectual enjoyment; weariness, lassitude, headache, and expense, are the concomitants of such parties. May our “practical housewife” have courage to reject them altogether.
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