Why were people during colonial times afraid of baths and open windows?
Yes, they were afraid of both. In America’s colonial days, getting clean meant sponging off, usually just face and hands. A few of the better homes furnished bedrooms with chinaware washbasins and pitchers. Servants supplied the water, heated in the kitchen or laundry, and laid out clean shifts for the ladies and fresh dress shirts for the gentlemen. A shirt concealed the sweat that often flowed beneath it and kept it from staining the elegant silk or velvet waistcoat and frock coat that went over it. If you were a wealthy man, you might have fifty shirts. Your lady, of course, didn’t sweat. She merely glowed. If you insisted on thoroughly washing, a wooden tub would do a fine job. But it required hard work. It had to be lugged from the laundry house, or wherever it was stored, and filled with water, hoisted from the well, that had to be warmed. Something had to be found to use as a towel. And where in the world did the homemade soap get to? With all this ado, a semblance of privacy ha
