Ventilation--Window curtains and blinds--Bedsteads--Spring mattresses
--Towels--Danger of fire at the toilet--Mantelpiece--Pictures and
frames--Superfluous necessaries--Taine's criticisms--Aids to reading
in bed--Service of the bath--Improvements in washstands--Arranging the
rooms--Attics made beautiful--Sick-rooms--Neatness--Disinfectants--
Chlorine gas--Condy's solution--Filters--Invalid chairs--Generous
efforts of the medical profession to improve the national health.
We pass a third of our time in our bed-rooms when we are in health, and
the whole of it when we are ill; therefore their ventilation and
general arrangement demand our most earnest consideration.
Some bed-rooms are draughty, occasioning cold and neuralgia, but the
more common fault is that they are not airy enough; for with our
extreme attention to what is called "English comfort," we too
frequently make our bed-rooms almost air-tight.
This causes restlessness by night and headache by day. It were far
better to accustom ourselves to sleep with our windows open, as the
night air is not at all injurious in dry weather, unless an east wind
is blowing. We must be guided by the weather, and trim to the wind; our
feeling will tell us whether we may, or may not, safely leave our
windows open much more surely than the almanac. The time when windows
should be shut throughout the house is when the dew is rising and
falling; then the damp enters and saturates everything.
People seldom attend to this point, but keep their windows open too
late in the afternoon, which in Italy is recognized as the dangerous
time. We have but little malaria in England, but what little there is
is at work just before and after sunset. Many persons, too, who like
myself have immense faith in fresh air, throw open their windows on
leaving their rooms in the morning, regardless of whether the air be
dry and warm, or whether a fog or bitter east wind will penetrate the
whole house to damp or chill it. It is more prudent, in case of bleak
or raw weather, to wait for an hour or two before opening the windows,
ventilation from the door being sufficient for the room while it is
empty.
It is useless to lay down laws as to the windows in our variable
climate. We must work by our natural thermometer, and let our skin
perform one of its most useful functions and tell us whether it is cold
or hot; but if our feelings are uncertain, give judgment in favour of
fresh air.
If your rooms have the old-fashioned long and narrow windows which are
always found in houses built in the reigns of the early Georges, the
Japanese paper curtains, being very cheap, are as good as any, the
intention being to drape a skeleton window, which curtainless is a
dismal object.
But more modern windows should not, or at least need not, have long
hanging curtains, but only just sufficient to cover the window without
leaving a streak of light. The drapery may hang from one side or from
both, according to taste; but unless you are very particular to admit
no light in your bed-room, a mere valance, or some ornament at the top
of the window, is enough. For instance, some pretty design in fretwork,
as the tracery of an Arabian arch, made of deal an inch thick, cut out
with a steam saw and stained or enamelled black, would be effective
when lined with rose colour, or any drapery suited to your room; and
you might furnish an appropriate design for the fretwork. This would be
easily dusted, and is not expensive.
White blinds are clean and pleasant for bed-rooms, but dark-green ones
are better for persons with weak sight; either these or Venetian blinds
are very useful where there are no shutters.
Brass and iron bedsteads have almost entirely superseded wooden ones,
and they are generally made without fittings for curtains. Indeed, in
our well-built modern houses there are so few draughts to be guarded
against that curtains are seldom necessary.
In bed-rooms of the present time valances to the beds are quite
superfluous, as the bed-round is completely out of fashion. This was
the name of the breadth of carpet which went round three sides of the
bed, leaving the remainder of the floor bare. The fashion was healthy
and economical, certainly, but it was tryingly ugly and cheerless.
For a bed-room, nothing is so good as the square carpet, with a broad
margin of the floor stained and varnished, as this is very easily taken
up for the floor and carpet to be cleaned. The carpet must be laid down
the first time by a man from the carpet-warehouse, so that it may be
evenly stretched, which is seldom done by a carpenter; but after that
it is easily spread, as it remains in shape, and needs very few nails
to keep it in position.
Bed-room carpets need not have brown paper laid under them, though this
is an advantage in other rooms, as it keeps dust and draught from
coming through the cracks of the floor, besides saving the carpet from
being cut by the edges of the boards. Kidderminster carpets are now
made in very nice patterns, and are quite suitable for bed-rooms where
Brussels carpets may be thought too expensive.
A hearth-rug is more useful in a bed-room than elsewhere, as a bed-room
fire should be of coal or wood, and not of gas, as this is injurious in
a bed-room.
Take care never to let the head of the bed be placed before the
fire-place. This is sometimes foolishly done, and unsuspecting sleepers
get neuralgia from it. In summer a pretty pattern, cut out in
tissue-paper so as to resemble lace, tacked on a slight frame covered
with black tarletane, and fitted into the fire-place, allows
ventilation and keeps out the dust from the chimney. Little girls love
to cut these fire-papers, and one of them, with care, lasts two
summers, and often three.
When there are no bed-curtains, it is sometimes advisable to line the
ironwork at the head of the bed, so that the sleeper may not be exposed
to draught. Spring mattresses, with soft woollen mattresses upon them,
are the most comfortable beds of any; and Heal's folding spring
mattresses, though expensive, cannot be too strongly recommended. These
spring beds are so easily made up, that this is a matter of very
trifling consideration in any house where there are two pairs of hands,
children's or grown-up people's. It is necessary to turn back the
bed-clothes completely over the foot of the bed, and leave it to air
for an hour, at least, after the window has been opened. There is a
great fancy now for having trimmed pillow-covers, and pieces of
ornamental needlework to spread over the bed after it is turned down;
the fashion is pretty, but superfluous, as a nicely worked counterpane
looks equally well, and need not be folded up at bedtime.
Towels may, and should be, ornamented, but not so much as to make them
inconvenient for use. The collection of linen exhibited by the Duchess
of Edinburgh gave many of us an interesting lesson in things of this
kind. One of the silliest pieces of finery seen in a bed or dressing
room is the trimmed towel-horse cover. Towels cannot possibly dry if
the evaporation is stopped, and even when the cover is made of thin
muslin, it is only a troublesome frivolity.
Every lady has her own particular taste about her toilet-table, so that
I only give a caution to let it be safe, and not liable to take fire.
We frequently want candles on our dressing-tables; therefore it stands
to reason that the veil often placed over the looking-glass is highly
dangerous. This drapery is intended to keep the sun from scorching the
back of the glass, but it is safer to stand the glass elsewhere than in
the window when the room is exposed to the midday sun, although it will
not be so pleasant for use.
The rose-lined white muslin petticoat which was once such a popular way
of concealing a deal dressing-table is highly dangerous. Indeed, it is
difficult to conceive any combination more inflammable than the veiled
glass set in the midst of cotton window-curtains, and two candles
standing on a cotton toilet-cover, with a frilled muslin pincushion
between them, and full muslin drapery below.
The most convenient table allows the large square-seated stool, so
comfortable to sit on while dressing the hair, to be pushed under it
when not in use. When light ornaments are placed on a bed-room
mantelpiece and exposed to a current of air, it is advisable to have
two upright pieces of board, painted, cut out, or otherwise made
ornamental, placed one on each side of the shelf to protect the
knick-knacks from being blown down; and if these are numerous, one or
two shelves may be put above the mantelpiece, forming a pretty little
museum of curiosities which may be too small, or too trifling, to be
placed with advantage in the drawing-room; and houses of the class I am
describing seldom have a boudoir. If the mantelpiece is covered with
cloth or velvet, the shelves and back might be covered with the same,
and this would be very becoming to the ornaments. Tunisian or point
lace forms a very good edging to a mantelboard, and when a foot deep,
or nearly so, it is extremely handsome. Water-colour sketches should
abound in a bed-room, souvenirs of places we have visited, or of
friends who have made the drawings, being doubly enjoyed when we are
recovering from illness, or when we are awake early in the summer
morning. Sketches are as pleasant as books, without the trouble of
holding them up to our eyes. They should be carefully arranged so as
not to look spotty; and they must be hung flat against the wall by
having the rings placed high in the frames, as, although it is becoming
to the pictures, the effect of them hanging much forward makes many
people giddy, and in an invalid will sometimes produce a feeling akin
to sea-sickness.
Neatly made frames of the cheap German gilding (which will wash) answer
very well for sketches hung in the less prominent situations in a
bedroom, and bring a luxury within the reach of many who would not
otherwise afford it.
Now I am come to the difficult part of my subject--the tug of war, in
fact--for I want men to do something for themselves, and women to do
without something dear to their hearts. I think I will speak of the
latter clause first.
In bed-rooms especially is seen that truly English love of superfluous
comforts which we mistake for civilization: it meets us everywhere, in
and out of the house, but it abounds in our bed and dressing rooms.
The amount of toilet so-called necessaries is incredible, and the
number of patent objects overwhelming. When we consider that seven
things only are necessary to our personal neatness and cleanliness--soap,
sponge, towel, and tooth-brush for washing, and brush and comb and
nail-scissors for the rest of the toilet--and then count the other
paraphernalia seen in our dressing-rooms, we shall discover how many
frivolous trades our superfluities maintain, to say nothing of
ingenuity misplaced in making advertisements of dressing-cases and
hair-restorers conspicuously attractive.
The toilet-table is not alone to blame: the fault pervades the whole
house and overwhelms the bed-rooms.
M. Taine, in his "Notes on England," amusingly describing an English
house, says, "In my bedroom is a table of rosewood, standing on an
oilcloth mat on the carpet; upon this table is a slab of marble, on the
marble a round straw mat--all this to bear an ornamented water-bottle
covered with a tumbler. One does not simply place one's book on a
table: upon the table is a small stand for holding it. One does not
have a plain candlestick: the candle is enclosed in a glass cylinder,
and is furnished with a self-acting extinguisher. All this apparatus
hampers; it involves too much trouble for the sake of comfort."
This was only a bachelor's room; what would the French critic have
thought of the aids to reading in bed in an ordinarily well-appointed
bed-room where the master indulges in that practice?
By the Englishman's bedside is also a small table standing on a mat,
and on this table another mat supporting a patent stand which screws up
and down, and on this another mat with a candlestick with a nozzle and
a patent protector of the candle from the draught, a glass shield set
in an ormolu frame which has an elaborate screw; and by the side of the
candlestick-stand another mat, on which is a patent screw for shading
the light from the aforesaid candle. Then, besides the extinguisher,
also on a stand and a mat, and patent matches in a patent box, he is
supplied with a book-rest which will turn in every possible way, with a
patent leaf-turner and leaf-holder, and a variety of other little
conveniences. He only lacks an electric communication between the
fire-escape outside and the patent night-bolt on his door, to prevent
him being burnt in his bed, to make the thing complete.
We feel how difficult we have made life by having to put all these
indispensables to their intended use. We have multiplied these patent
gimcracks until we cannot move without being crushed by our comforts;
and the keeping of all this in order obliges us to have under us a
parlour-maid, an upper housemaid, and an under housemaid, to wait upon
these inventions. Helps, in one of his essays, says, "I have always
maintained that half the work of the world is useless, if subjected to
severe scrutiny. My idea of organization would be to diminish much of
this useless work." The same remark applies to our luggage when we
travel. We take things fancying. We may want them, forgetting that it
is easier to do without an article once, than to have the trouble of
packing it and looking after it every day; so we bury our pleasure
under a heap of care.
I must give another extract from Taine's description of his bed-room
before I proceed to my second great battle-field, where I fear a harder
contest.
After describing his dressing-table, Taine goes on to say of his
washstand: "It is furnished with one large jug, one small one, a medium
one for hot water, two porcelain basins, a dish for toothbrushes, two
soap-dishes, a water-bottle with its tumbler, a finger-glass with its
glass. Underneath is a very low table, a sponge, another basin, a large
shallow zinc bath for morning bathing. In a cupboard is a towel-horse
with four towels of different kinds, one of them thick and rough.
Napkins are under all the vessels and utensils; to provide for such a
service, when the house is occupied, it is necessary that washing
should be always going on. The servant comes four times a day into the
rooms: in the morning to draw the blinds and the curtains, open the
inner blinds, carry off the boots and clothes, and bring a large can of
hot water with a fluffy towel on which to place the feet; at midday and
at seven in the evening to bring water and the rest, in order that the
visitor may wash before luncheon and dinner; at night to shut the
window, arrange the bed, get the bath ready, renew the linen;--all this
with silence, gravity, and respect. Pardon these trifling details, but
they must be handled in order to figure to one's self the wants of an
Englishman in the direction of his luxury: what he expends in being
waited upon and comfort is enormous, and one may laughingly say that he
spends the fifth of his life in his tub."
Men will do much for glory and for vainglory, even to using cold
shower-baths in winter, and boast of breaking the ice in them; but I
never yet heard of a man who would take the trouble to empty his bath
after using it. Now I maintain that every man who has not a valet ought
to do this. Few men consider the hard work it is to a woman to carry
upstairs heavy cans of water; but that is trifling, compared with the
difficulty to a woman of turning the water out of a large flat bath
into a pail. A man would find little difficulty in doing this; his arms
are longer, his back stronger, and his dress does not come in the way.
When a man likes to have his bath regularly--and who does not?--he
should think of the labour that half a dozen or more baths entail, and
in the evening prepare his can of water for to-morrow's use, place his
own bath on his piece of oil-cloth, enjoy his tub to his heart's
content, pour away the water, put up his tub, and say nothing about it.
This disagreeable lecture over, we will go on and see how easy the
general dressing-room arrangements might be made.
If, instead of our ordinary washstands with their jugs and basins, we
had fixed basins with plugs in them and taps above, much of the
water-bearing difficulty would be obviated. These washstands should be
placed back to back, as it were, in every two rooms, having only the
partition-wall between them, so that the same pipe would supply two
taps.
I have three sorts of basins in use in my house: one kind has the
ordinary tap and plug, another kind has handles for supply and waste,
the water being sucked away on turning the waste handle. This is safe
for careless people who let rings or any other articles drop in the
basin, and nothing but water can go down to choke the pipe. But the
basin I find easiest and most pleasant to use, tilts out the water by
lifting a handle, or rather finger-niche, in front of the basin; and
when this is let fall it strikes on an india-rubber pad beneath the
tap, so that the basin cannot be cracked. All these different basins
are fitted into marble washstands with dishes for soap and tooth-brushes
hollowed in the marble, with holes for drainage connected with the
waste-pipe below. These conveniences, with a housemaid's-closet with
sink and tap on the same floor, save all carrying up and down of pails
and cans of water, and, in fact, the heaviest part of a housemaid's
work.
Where the hall is warmed by hot-water pipes, water from the same source
will supply the bedrooms. It will be warm if the first quart is allowed
to flow away. Or the pipes may be connected with the kitchen boiler,
which, in the case of our kitchen on the ground floor, will not be so
expensive as where the pipes have to communicate with the basement.
Supplying the taps is perfectly easy when only cold water is required,
and children and delicate persons may be indulged with jugs of warm
water, which, however, every boy using should fetch for himself. We
should thus be able to dispense with ewers and toilet-cans, which would
at once pay for the fitting of the pipe and tap to each room.
It is better and nicer to use filtered water for the toilet-decanter,
and not water drawn directly from the cistern, unless it has been
tested and found pure. In such a case, which is rare, no decanter will
be needed, unless we like to have a Venetian glass one for the sake of
its beauty.
Let all persons, in dressing, replace the things they have used, and
spread their towels on the horse to dry; then the rooms will be set in
order for the day, only needing the daily dusting, which will be done
after the beds are made. Boys and girls who go to school should make
their beds before they go, so they must open them to air immediately
they get up.
"These seem little things: and so they are unless you neglect them"
(_Sir A. Helps_).
Everybody should have his or her own wardrobe, and keep it in order.
Men and boys and little children will have everything neatly made and
mended for them, and laid in its proper place; so all they have to do
is to leave the drawers as tidy as they found them, taking heed not to
lose their gloves and neckties; the larger things take care of
themselves. The secret of keeping one's clothes tidy is not to have too
many.
Of course, where there are no servants to provide for, the house has
fewer rooms than a family of the same size requires in our present
experience, and the uglier part of the house is abolished, or where not
abolished, is converted from servants' bed-rooms and attics--unpleasant,
dusty, and ill furnished; redolent of tallow candle, shoes, brushes,
and stale perfumery; with closed windows and the floor strewn with old
letters, hair-pins, half-empty matchboxes, and dogs-eared penny
novels--into a bower-like study or morning-room, where a young lady may
entertain herself and her own especial visitors. I have even known an
attic in Baker Street so converted by the invention and taste of a
young lady, as to live in one's recollection as as pretty a summer room
as any country rectory could boast, by being papered with bright
flowery paper all over its sloping roof, and its window made cheerful
with climbing plants and flowers; tasteful draperies, a work-table and
work-basket in embroidered green satin, book-shelves carved by friends,
a piano just good enough for practising upon, and water-colour drawings
on the walls.
I have known another room, cheaply fitted up in a French style by a
French lady, as a dressing-room, with looking-glass wardrobe and
painted furniture. A small bed in an alcove, in case the room might be
wanted as a spare room, and lace curtains drawn over the alcove. The
head of the bed and all its plain wood-work covered in quilted white
cotton in large diamonds, and cross-barred with narrow blue satin
ribbon, and large blue bows here and there. The walls papered with a
paper resembling quilted muslin. The effect was soft, clean, and
extremely pretty.
A few words on the topic of sick-rooms before quitting this part of the
subject.
In cases of severe illness it is advisable to engage a professed nurse.
She is a great help to the physician, and a support to the family, who
too often, in their love for the sufferer, overtax their strength, and
break down at the moment this is most required. No person can long
sustain night and day nursing, particularly if to bodily fatigue
anxiety and distress of mind be added; nor can they keep up that
appearance of cheerfulness which is such a support to a sick person. It
is a great mistake to attempt to do this in any case, but more
especially if it is likely to be a prolonged illness. A sister of mercy
is often found a most valuable member of the household under such
circumstances. People often talk of not having had their clothes off
for a fortnight. One's first thought on hearing this said is, how glad
you will be to take a bath! And one's second thought, what good did it
do the patient?
The sick-room should be kept as much as possible in its usual order.
The paraphernalia of illness distresses the sick person, causing
nervousness. Do not let physic bottles be visible in all directions, or
the patient will never feel well, and those in attendance will fancy
they have caught the infection, simply because they are nauseated with
the smell of the medicines, and the disagreeable sight of their dregs
left about in spoons and glasses. The medicines that have to be given
at stated hours should be neatly placed in readiness on a small tray,
near the clock if possible, so that they may be remembered and the
hours observed. Keep perfect cleanliness and neatness in the room, and
avoid clatter. Wear thin shoes, and do not let your dress rustle. A
woman's hand should at every touch improve or replace something, so
that there may never be a great bustle of setting to rights. We have
already spoken at length of ventilation: in sickness it must be
particularly attended to, as fresh air is the most beneficial of all
medicines.
At the time of the great cattle-plague, fumigation with chlorine gas
was advocated, and beneficially employed, by Professor Stone, of Owen's
College, Manchester. It is simple for domestic use.
One teaspoonful of powdered chlorate of potash should be loosely
stirred together with three table-spoonfuls of dry sand in an empty dry
pickle bottle; add to this nearly an ounce of muriatic acid; stand the
bottle on some warm embers in an old Australian-meat tin, or other
receptacle of this kind, and place it (with the embers in it) on a
shelf, or somewhere high up in the room, taking care not to scorch the
wood-work. The heavy chlorine gas will descend and so fill all parts of
the room, and in about three hours disinfection will be complete.
It would be a good thing if district-visitors, and other charitable
persons, would instruct the clergy and their poor people in such
effectual means of stamping out infection.
In all hospitals "Condy's solution" is placed with the water and towels
for the use of the visiting medical men. It is highly advisable to keep
this in every house for cleansing and disinfecting purposes, and for
the removal of unpleasant smells. It is useful in cleansing bird-cages
and gun-barrels, in preparing poultry or game, and in many other ways.
The solution may be made at home. The British Pharmacopoeia allows
four grains of the permanganate of potash (the basis of the solution)
to the fluid ounce. It is chiefly for external use. The permanganate of
potash is sold in crystals of two kinds: the most expensive is the
purple, which is used in what is called the ozonized water, a very weak
solution of permanganate, sold by chemists for toilet use. The cheaper
and more general disinfectant is a greenish coarse powder, sold by any
honest chemist at under five shillings a pound. It may be bought of the
General Apothecaries' Company, 49, Berner's Street, London, for from
three shillings a pound to three-and-sixpence, as it varies with the
market; and this does as well as Condy's patent, and is 500 per cent.
cheaper, as fourteen gallons of disinfectant may be prepared from a
pound of the powdered crystals, and these again will be extensively
diluted for use. The purple crystals may be bought by the ounce.
Be cautious in using this fluid, or the Condy, whichever you may happen
to prefer, as it turns almost everything brown that it touches. Very
deep stains will never come out; slight stains wash and wear out after
a time, but china and all white ware, and sponges and brushes, have
their appearance greatly injured by it. Bed-room floors may be washed
with it; they will be thoroughly purified, and the colour will be as if
they were stained dark oak previous to being varnished. Stains will
wear off the hands in a few days, and a weak solution will not
discolour them. The purple fluid is a test of water--if it turns brown
the water is impure. It decolorizes on contact with animal matter.
It is a useful plan to keep a filter on every floor of a house; the
expense is not very great, while the increased safety is incalculable.
Spencer's patent, or magnetic-carbide, filter is one of the best. He
imitated nature's process when constructing it, having observed that
the purest water filtered through oxide of iron in the earth's strata.
Two articles of furniture will be found of great use in a sick-room.
One is a chair back with bars of broad webbing, made to lift up and
down like the music-desk of a grand piano. This is a most comfortable
support to an invalid when sitting up to take food or medicine. When
closed flat it will slip easily under the pillow, and it can be raised
gently and gradually to the angle required. The other thing is an
arm-chair, stood and fastened on a board with four French castors. This
is a great assistance in cases of lameness or extreme weakness, as it
is easy for the invalid to sit on it and be wheeled to any part of the
room; and it costs less than a wheeled chair.
None of the learned professions have advanced during the last thirty
years so much as the medical. Medicine has become a new science since
it has taken hold of the sanitary improvement of our towns and
dwellings. The profession, with a disinterestedness and devotion to
science worthy of liberal minds, combines to make the prevention of
disease its aim, even beyond its cure. It forms a noble co-operative
society.
At the last meeting of the British Medical Association at Sheffield, it
was most truly said that independent medical officers of health would
before long change the character of disease throughout the nation, and
save future generations much misery. It is to be hoped that the
country, which will reap the benefit of their endeavours, will
strengthen the hands of those whose efforts are directed to raising the
standard of national health.