A Brief History of Soapmaking and a Recipe

 

Have you ever made soap? As a historical romance writer, I have scenes with my characters using soap. The same bar of soap for washing clothes, bathing, washing dishes, and scrubbing floors. Today we have so many kinds to choose from on our store shelves. They range from bars to soft soap to detergent in a variety of fragrances. Research is a writer's joy. So doing a deep-dive into the history of soap making was fascinating. I'll share the highlights here.

Ancient Soap Making

Archaeologists have discovered clay cylinders with soap recipes made from ash and fat dating back to 2800 B.C. They believe it was used to clean wool before carding it to make clothing and other items.

Ancient Egyptians combined animal and vegetable oils with alkaline salts.  A 1550 B.C. Medical text explained how to use soap to treat skin ailments and for washing.

Strigil 

Romans popularized bathing but didn't use soap for personal bathing. Instead, they coated themselves with olive oil, then scraped away the dirt using a strigil, a curved tool. They may or may not have followed that with a bath.

Medieval Soap Makers

During the Middle-Ages soap making became a profitable trade. Mediterranean soap makers refined the process using olive oil instead of animal fat. Castile soap, made from olive oil was gentler than many earlier versions. It became highly prized in Europe. It has stood the test of time and can be found in many stores, online, and in various fragrances.

Alas, soap remained expensive for centuries; most ordinary families used it sparingly, reserving it for laundry and special occasions. No wonder some people only bathed once a year.

 

Colonial and Frontier Soap Making

In the American Colonials, homemade soap became a necessity. Imported soap was scarce and expensive. Housewives saved the ash from their fireplaces. Hardwood was the best. Once there was a sufficient amount, they poured rainwater through it. The ash became lye, a caustic alkaline solution. Animal fats saved from cooking and rendering were boiled with the lye in large iron kettles. Often over a fire in the yard. Soap making was time consuming and if not done correctly could produce a caustic lye soap that irritated the skin.

Pioneer families on the frontier might dedicate an entire day to soap making to produce enough for the year ahead. 

Industrial Revolution Changes Everything

In 1791, French Chemist Nicolas Leblanc developed a process for manufacturing soap ash from common salt. This made Alkalis more available and affordable. With the continuing evolution of manufacturing, factories could produce soap more cheaply than homemade.

Cheaper soap paired well with the Victorian Era's focus on regular bathing and handwashing as a way to combat disease.

By the late 1800s, recognizable brands emerged advertising purity, fragrance and beauty benefits. In 1879 Ivory Soap was introduced. Not only was it white, pure and cleansing, it floated. Soap was more than a cleaning product it became a symbol of respectability and modern living. Ivory like Castile soap is still sold today.

 

The Twentieth Century and Beyond

During World Wars I and II when fats and oils were in short supply due to the war, synthetic detergents were developed. Most modern-day "soaps" are technically detergents rather than true soap.

Even with soap easily available, the interest in traditional soap making never disappeared. In recent decades, artisan soap makers have brought their creations to farmers markets and speciality shops. Their fragrances give shoppers wonderful choices.

What began as a simple mixture of animal fat and ash evolved into an essential household product, a public health tool, and a luxury item. 

Soap making kit

 

Soap Making Facts Our Ancestors Knew

·       Soap making was a seasonal chore. Many farm families made it once or twice a year. It required large quantities of fat and ashes, plus several days of work.

·       Ashes were valuable. Hardwood ash from oak, hickory, and maple were carefully saved. Soft woods like pine produced inferior lye. But if that was all that was available, the ash was used for soap making.

·       Nothing went to waste. Cooking grease, bacon drippings, and rendered animal fat were all collected throughout the year. What seems like kitchen waste to us was an important soap-making ingredient.

·       Soap could be dangerous. A batch with too much lye could burn skin and damage clothes. Experienced homemakers took pride in producing a mild, effective soap.

·       Fancy soap was a status symbol. By the late 1800s, perfumed soaps wrapped in decorative paper became popular gifts. A fragrant bar of imported soap was considered an elegant indulgence.

·       The annual hog butchering supplied soap ingredients. After butchering season, rendered lard and tallow provided the fat needed for the year's soap making. Farm wives usually planned soap making while the supply of rendered fat was still fresh.

·       Whiter soap was considered the best. Light-colored soap was often viewed as a sign of quality. Dark soap wasn't inferior, but white bars look cleaner and therefore more refined.

·       A good soap recipe was a family treasure. Many homemakers guarded their soap recipes and techniques just as carefully as the bread recipes, passing them down from mother to daughter.

 

A Soap Recipe

This recipe is not what my great-great grandmothers made because coconut oil would not have been available on the American frontier. If you want to delve into the art of soap making, this recipe is a great start.

Safety first: Lye (Sodium Hydroxide) can cause serious burns. Always wear gloves, eye protection, and work in a well-ventilated area.

Beginners Cold-Press Soap

Ingredients:

·       16 ounces Olive oil

·       16 ounces Coconut Oil

·       12 ounces distilled water

·       4.5 ounces of sodium hydroxide (lye)

     Instructions:

1.   Wear protective gear, slowly add lye to the water. NEVER add water to the lye.

2.   Allow lye solution to cool to about 100-110 degrees Fahrenheit.

3.   Melt the oils and allow them to cool to a similar temperature.

4.   Pour the lye solution into the oil.

5.   Blend until the mixture reaches "trace", when it thickens to a pudding-like consistency.

6.   Pour into mold.

7.   Cover and allow to harden for 24-48 hours.

8.   Remove from mold and cut into bars.

9.   Cure the bars in a dry location for four to six weeks before use.

Have you ever made soap? Have you ever used Castile soap or Ivory soap? What is your favorite soap?

 Blog  Sources:

1. Konkol, K.L., and Rasmussen, S.C. An Ancient Cleanser: Soap Production and Use in Antiquity.
2. The Ebers Papyrus (c. 1550 B.C.).
3. Pliny the Elder. Natural History.
4. Virginia Smith. Clean: A History of Personal Hygiene and Purity.
5. Alice Morse Earle. Home Life in Colonial Days.
6. Lydia Maria Child. The American Frugal Housewife.
7. American Cleaning Institute, "Soaps & Detergents History."

 

Cindy Ervin Huff, is a multi-published award-winning author in Historical and Contemporary Romance. She’s a 2018 Selah Finalist. Cindy has a passion to encourage other writers on their journey. When she isn’t writing, she feeds her reading addiction and enjoys her retirement with her husband of 50 plus years, Charles. Visit her at www.cindyervinhuff.com.

 

Nine years ago I wrote my debut historical romance. Click here to grab a copy. This story started my writing journey. Evangeline and Jake was a story that sat in my head for a few years. A female doctor going west as a mail-order bride intrigued me. Hope you enjoy it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The New Eleanor (Part 2)

 

By Catherine Ulrich Brakefield

     In last month’s blog, Eleanor’s parents had passed away, and she and her brother were now orphans. Eleanor was the niece of President Theodore Roosevelt of the Oyster Bay Branch and the daughter of his younger brother Elliott. 

Elliott was a womanizer, an alcoholic, and his one shining attribute was that he adored his daughter, and she adored him in return. Not so with Eleanor’s beautiful and talented mother. She thought ‘Little Nell' was plain, boring, and much too serious for a little girl. So, when Eleanor's mother died in 1892, Theodore Roosevelt’s wife said, “I do not feel she has much chance, poor little soul.”

Eleanor was eight at the time. Two years later, her father died. So, it would seem the Roosevelts of Oyster Bay had wiped their hands of these orphans. But it is not the case with Eleanor’s maternal grandmother, Mary Livingstone Ludlow Hall, which had plenty on her plate to keep her busy. So, what were two more children who needed her?

Grandmother Hall was determined that no one would forget about her granddaughter or grandson. Not on her watch. Her grandmother ensured that Eleanor’s education was not lacking. At the early age of fifteen, Eleanor was sent to England and attended the Allenwood School. Her teachers immediately noted the intellectual mind behind the reserved demeanor.

 Little did Eleanor know that God was laying the foundation for her future husband and her life’s work. She would see Romans 8:28 materialize during her later years, “All things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” (NKJV)

She would impart the experiences she learned throughout her life into practical wisdom for future generations to gleam strength from her weekly column, My Day.

The shy and often timid Eleanor at first wasn’t ready for the sudden boost to her ego that this trip to England would bring. Her teachers persisted that she utilize her intelligence and to ignore the criticism she may encounter. She would later write in her weekly column, My Day, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by doing the thing which you think you cannot do.”

The criticism she encountered in her youth had come from her mother. Suddenly, Eleanor felt as if she had sprouted wings. Yes, wings of confidence in her new image. These learned teachers thought her intelligent and encouraged her to new heights. Eleanor wisely stored each new experience into her heart, often humorous, as she would one day write in My Day, “You wouldn’t worry so much about what others think of you if you realized how seldom they do.” 

     Eleanor returned to New York at eighteen as a different person from when she had left. She was now a young lady of grace and poise, self-confident and knowledgeable. She accepted the invitations to balls, teas, and other social events with confidence. She understood what her social status required; however, she now added the flavor of her intellect to all occasions. Eleanor would someday write in her weekly column, My Day, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.”

Her family and friends soon learned she had a will and mind of her own. She was determined to dedicate her time to the New York City Community. This was not heard of. Society ladies contributed generously to the social functions for such institutions but rarely visited the institutions. Not so with Elanor. She joined the Junior League and Rivington Street Settlement House and volunteered her time willingly. She later wrote in, My Day, “I can’t tell you how to succeed, but I can tell you how to fail: Try to please everybody.”

         Meanwhile, Eleanor’s future husband, Franklin Roosevelt was the most eligible bachelor of the Hyde Park Roosevelts, the scion of the time. Franklin’s mother was a Delano of a French Huguenot family (originally de la Noye). They were quite the socialites who happened to make their wealth in trading opium, and then they married well into the Astor dynasty.

         Franklin was an individualist who would often take his leave from the dinners and parties and sought the refuge of the ocean waves. He became an adept sailor and boat handler. He desired to follow his dream and go to the Naval School at Annapolis for a Navy career. Instead, he was sent to Groton and Harvard. Much to his parents’ displeasure, he was not considered one of the popular men.

It was a chance encounter seeing a familiar face across a crowded room of gaily dipping and swirling taffeta skirts swirling about gracefully amidst the twinkling chandelier lite ballroom when Franklin caught a glimpse of Eleanor. Soon, he hoped to catch a glimpse of her again across the party tables of society or the ballrooms of flowing silk and taffeta gowns, amidst the tainted giggles and whispers of gossip. Eleanor would later write in her weekly column, My Day, “Great minds discuss ideas; average minds discuss events; small minds discuss people.”

It didn’t take Franklin long to notice that Eleanor was different from the other girls he had known. She was witty, intelligent, and smart enough to outwit him on occasion. She was equally enchanting in demeanor, and he enjoyed talking openly with her, knowing her true character, so that he did not need to worry that what he confided in her would go no further.

Franklin’s mother was appalled to learn of her son’s plans to wed Eleanor. They met in 1902, and amid the brisk breeze in November of 1903, Franklin’s mind was made up. His mother argued that they both were far too young to marry. She even made her son promise to keep this engagement quiet for at least a year. Plotting to get Franklin’s attention off Eleanor, she introduced her son to other girls in hopes of swaying his feelings for Eleanor.

The Roosevelts have persuaded their son in many of his passions, but Franklin was not to be influenced when it came to choosing his bride. He would have no other but his fifth cousin, Eleanor. In December’s chill of 1904, he announced his engagement.

They were married in New York City on March 17, 1905, in the home of Eleanor’s grandmother on East 76th Street. It also so happened to be during St. Patrick’s Day. President Theodore Roosevelt gave his niece away, and sadly, most of the focus was on the President then on the totally in-love and happy couple. Their vows were said to the tune of ‘The Wearing of the Green’ and drowned in the sea of merriment as the parade filled the street below them. Eleanor was twenty-one, and Franklin was twenty-three. Eleanor couldn’t be happier. She would later write in My Day, “The purpose of life is to live it, to taste experience to the utmost, to reach out eagerly and without fear for newer and richer experience.”

They had to put off their planned honeymoon to Europe because Franklin was still in school. So, after a week’s bliss spent in Hyde Park, the newlyweds set up housekeeping in a New York City apartment.

Eleanor’s preparation for the marriage bed was little to none. Alice, the president’s daughter, read aloud the Old Testament to her and sought out the “begat’ passages with pointed clarity. Eleanor hardly knew what to expect. She would later write in, My Day, “A woman is like a tea bag—you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.”

Check out July’s blog for what happens next in Eleanor’s life.

Swept into Destiny: Ben (first book of the Destiny series). McConnell is a proud Irish immigrant who is determined not to give up despite hunger and deprivation. He clings to his mustard seed faith, believing that nothing is impossible.

Maggie Gatlan is a rebel disguised as a Southern belle. Ben's and Maggie’s journeys delve deeply into the truth about faith and devotion. “… Brakefield’s flowing descriptions pull you into Swept into Destiny and keep you immersed in the world of the Antebellum South…This isn’t just a world of beaus, belles, and balls, but of moral ambiguity and searches for truth…” L.H. Reader

Catherine is the award-winning author of Wilted Dandelions, Swept into Destiny, Destiny’s Whirlwind, Destiny of Heart, Waltz with Destiny, and Love's Final Sunrise. She has written two pictorial history books, The Lapeer Area and Eastern Lapeer, and short stories for Guideposts Books, CrossRiver Media Group, Revell Books, and Bethany House Publishers. Catherine and her husband of fifty-three years live on a ranch in Michigan and have two adult children, five grandchildren, four Arabian horses, two dogs, two cats, one bunny, and six chickens. See CatherineUlrichBrakefield.com for more information.

https://www.azquotes.com/author/12603-Eleanor_Roosevelt#google_vignette

https://www.historytoday.com/archive/franklin-and-eleanor-roosevelt%E2%80%99s-wedding  

She Died of a Broken Heart

by Sherry Shindelar

The story of Cynthia Anne Parker captured my heart a couple decades ago, and she still haunts my imagination.

Reconstructed Fort Parker

Cynthia was taken captive by Comanches at age nine during an attack on her family’s fort in the Texas frontier in 1836. Her father and several other extended family members were killed, and her brother John, her cousin Rachel, and a couple other family members were captured along with her.

Her Aunt Elizabeth was rescued a couple months after the attack. Her cousin Rachel, who had been badly abused by the tribe, was returned a couple of years later and died within a year of her return. John adopted the Comanche lifestyle and lived with the tribe for years before eventually leaving the tribe to farm in Mexico. But Cynthia became Comanche and became an integral part of the tribe for over twenty-four years.

She married an influential war chief, Peta Nocona, and had three children with him, including Quanah Parker, a powerful Comanche chief. Several times over the years, Indian agents and traders attempted to ransom her, but she refused to go, and the tribe refused to trade her.

Cynthia Ann Parker and Prairie Flower after they were captured by U.S. Cavalry and Texas Rangers

In December 1860, Texas Rangers attacked her village and captured her and her baby girl, Prairie Flower (Topsanah), killing everyone else in the village. Eventually, one of Cynthia’s relatives claimed her and took her to live with his family, but she refused to accept this new life that was being forced upon her. Several times, she tried to run away to the open plains, desperate to find her husband and her sons. Her uncle eventually agreed to help her look for her people, but they’d have to wait until the Civil War ended.

Prairie Flower died, word came that Cynthia’s son Pecos had passed away, as well, and the Civil War dragged on. Cynthia lost hope of ever being reunited with two remaining members of her beloved family, Nocona and Quanah. Overcome by sadness and longing, she sank into a deep depression and died of a broken heart.

Quannah Parker, Cynthia Ann's son who became one of the most famous Comanche chiefs

Cynthia Ann’s story, the story of a woman torn between cultures, has perplexed, intrigued, and haunted me since I read it. My heart aches for her loss, and questions flood my mind. Some stories are like that. They stay with you, and this one was all the more indelible because it was true and filled with unknowns.

In Texas Forsaken, Book One of my Lone Star Redemption series, I developed a character inspired by Cynthia Ann, started at the moment of crisis, and wrote a different trajectory. I couldn’t give Cynthia Ann a happy resolution, but I could give my character Eyes-Like-Sky a muted happy-ever-after. Eyes-Like-Sky has a second chance at life and love.

Wichita Path Sacrifice, my novella, which is included in Freed by the Frontier, is the prequel and is inspired by the captive stories of Cynthia Ann Parker and her cousin, Rachel Plummer.

Originally from Tennessee, Sherry loves to take her readers into the past. A romantic at heart, she is an avid student of the Civil War and the Old West. Sherry is a multi-award-winning writer. She currently resides in Minnesota with her husband of forty-one years.

Connect with Sherry: website, newsletter, Amazon, FB, Goodreads

Three remarkable women find themselves caught between two worlds on the American frontier. A captive of the Comanche must choose between escaping to white society or her growing feelings for a rising war chief in 1850s Texas. A Georgia judge's daughter flees an unwanted betrothal, only to be captured by Creek warriors but protected by a mysterious brave. And in 1754, an English lady traveling the Great Wagon Road discovers her carefully planned future may not survive her attraction to a protective frontiersman.

Three unforgettable romances prove that God's greatest blessings often come disguised as our greatest challenges, and that true love can bridge any divide.