In the rugged expanse of the Old West, where untamed frontiers and dusty trails beckoned, a unique way of life unfolded. Beyond the iconic images of cowboys, saloons, and duels lies a lesser-explored facet of daily existence: hygiene.
Hygiene in the American Wild West was probably about what you would expect: unhygienic, far from what we might consider sanitary by today’s standards. Extended periods without bathing, cramped living conditions, and the absence of proper sanitation facilities all compounded to shape a daily existence permeated by unpleasant odors, rampant illnesses, and an overall grim state of living.
Beds could be full of seam squirrels, also known as lice. While not every bed in the American West was fashioned from straw and hay, a significant number bore this rustic composition. Bed linens unfortunately saw infrequent changes, leading to infestation by lice and other critters.
Among these nuisances, lice, sometimes humorously referred to as seam squirrels, stood out, embodying just one of the many vexing insect cohorts that could make life in the Wild West less than hygienic.
Flies found their way into food, foodstuffs, and human waste, along with the relentless encroachment of mosquitoes into inadequately insulated abodes. The recollections of Rose Pender, a visitor to the American West from 1883 to 1888, paint a vivid picture of these adversities. She recounted a night when slumber was disrupted by a horde of bugs, leaving her with scarce rest.
Very few people had screens on windows, meaning these pests freely traversed between households and outhouses, leaving remnants of whatever they had picked up along the way.
Outhouses were home to unpleasant odors and bugs. Outhouses stood as an integral facet of frontier existence. Although some pioneers resorted to relieving themselves amidst the woods, outhouses were positioned in proximity to homes and homesteads, strategically situated to enhance convenience and safety.
The construction involved excavating a pit, above which a rudimentary wooden structure was erected. Once the pit reached its capacity, a simple covering was applied, and the wooden structure was moved over another hole, typically dug nearby.
Unpleasant odors pervaded these outhouses, prompting attempts to mask the stench with applications of lye or lime. Inhabitants shared these tight quarters with a range of pests, notably flies and the notorious black widow spiders. The latter, ever prepared to deliver a bite, posed a concern to those seeking respite from the elements upon the wooden seating.
Toilet paper did not exist in its modern form. Inventive solutions prevailed, and leaves, corn cobs, and grass found themselves enlisted for the task at hand.
It was hard to find clean water. In the rugged realm of the Wild West, access to water was a lifeline for survival, yet finding clean water was not always easy. The very outhouses constructed by homesteads with good intentions occasionally befouled nearby water sources, often unbeknownst to those who relied on them.
Further complications arose from stagnant water, a breeding ground for flies and insects that left behind waste and filth while hovering over puddles. Additionally, rainwater collection in cisterns produced water that was clean until dust and other contaminants got mixed in.
To preserve water, daily habits shifted. Washing dishes and garments took a back seat, and even bath water found multiple uses. Families often shared a single tub of water, with weekly baths becoming a fortunate occurrence.
If soap was made, it was made with animal fat and plants. Frank Clifford, a man also known as John Minim Whiteman and John Francis Wallace, penned a memoir chronicling his experiences in the American West. An associate of Billy the Kid, Clifford unveiled intriguing insights into the practices of Mexican women, who employed soapweed derived from the yucca plant for hair cleansing, embracing this natural remedy.
Clifford himself underwent multiple hair washes using soapweed root. The shampoo left the hair soft, clean, and lustrous.
While some people used soapweed, pioneers in their settlements crafted soap from animal fat, which found dual utility as candle material. Homemade soap was harsh and prone to skin irritation, but it existed with little emphasis on refining its formulation. Body odor was considered a natural part of life.
Paralleling this stance was the belief that too much cleanliness opened pores to germs and diseases, fostering a prevailing disinclination toward frequent bathing.
Communal towels were used to wipe off beer foam. Saloons in the Wild West did not have stools, but they did have rails on the bottom to lean on and for spittoons. Along the bar’s upper edge, there may have been a cuspidor, an additional rail, or a series of hooks.
The latter two features were designed to hold towels that men used to wipe their mouths of any excess beer foam. These towels were used by countless patrons, unwittingly facilitating the transmission of germs and ailments during their shared usage.
Spitting was so common that it had to be outlawed in saloons throughout the Western frontier. Men spit tobacco onto the floor, where spittoons and cuspidors lined the front of the bar. Spit was covered with sawdust, but that became problematic as respiratory diseases like pneumonia and tuberculosis ran rampant.
The sawdust, once an innocuous covering, transformed into a fertile breeding ground for germs. Saloons often rented out floors to travelers, and people slept amid the muck around them.
In an attempt to cease the excessive spitting, some places tried to ban the practice. Such restrictions extended to even train platforms and stations, where spitting could warrant a steep penalty of a six hundred dollar fine, a year-long incarceration, or both.
The Wild West was dusty. Dust was a widespread problem. Dust storms and heavy winds would often pick up dust and send large clouds into the air and into homes.
Not only was the dust threatening to the settlers, but also to their cattle. As Sarah Atherton, her husband Jed, and their children made their way across the Western landscape, Sarah’s eyes burned. As described in Mary Ellen Jones’s “Daily Life on the 19th Century American Frontier,” the dust was everywhere.
Since early afternoon, she had been staring into the sun. Her sunbonnet offered little protection.
Bad teeth were just a way of life in the West. Toothbrushes, toothpaste, and dental floss and the like were not present in the Wild West. When dental troubles arose, a simple and rather drastic solution prevailed: extraction.
Lacking the conveniences of modern dentistry, individuals turned to barbers and even blacksmiths, resourceful men who employed plier-like instruments to yank out troublesome teeth. No pain medication was applied, although a swig of whiskey might dull the agony.
While alternatives existed to prevent tooth removal, oral hygiene held minimal concern for most. Amid the stops of stage coaches and public establishments, people would use a community toothbrush. Food particles lodged between teeth found removal with the aid of knives, chalks, or other implements.
Cholera and other diseases were major problems. The practices of laundry, plumbing, and dishwashing frequently relied on the water that was used for drinking, inadvertently facilitating the transmission of disease across camps and settlements. Throughout the 19th century, a wave of Mormon migrants was afflicted by the deadly cholera, and they saw it as a punishment from God.
Simultaneously, this ailment exacted a heavy toll on Native American populations. While this was a widespread condition, it did not claim as many Native lives as smallpox did.
Not having disease at every turn was seen as a blessing. Sarah Raymond Hearnen noted, “There is no sickness in camp at all. It is marvelous how very well we are.
I hope it will continue so.” The relentless grip of this affliction led to numerous fatalities, and it all had to do with poor hygiene and dirty water.
Women were often cleaner than men. Cowboys, soldiers, and other men in the Wild West often went long periods of time without bathing. The demands of their daily routines left little room for this luxury, and when the occasion for a bath arose, natural water sources like streams and rivers sufficed.
This worked out fine during the hot summer months, but during the winter it was impossible, so men rarely bathed.
In contrast, women adopted a more diligent approach to personal hygiene. Each morning, they would often go to a spring or stream to wash their faces and take a drink. Since they had no privacy, they did not take complete baths on a regular basis, but women generally upheld a higher standard of cleanliness compared to their male counterparts.
Additionally, women exhibited greater diligence in laundering their clothes. Soldiers and cowboys did not have much time and usually only owned one set of clothes, meaning that washing clothes in a nearby stream or river occurred infrequently.
Cultural backgrounds influenced hygiene practices. In 2005, archaeologists found a pair of tweezers at a site in Deadwood. The tool was indicative of the large Chinese population that lived and worked in Deadwood, as well as some of their daily practices.
According to Don Ivy, the researcher who found the tweezers, the Chinese would never shave; they would pluck their hair. They also used the tweezers for smoking opium, but they believe the tweezers they found were for feminine hygiene in the same Old West purposes.
Some men wore distinctive long hair. Prominent figures in the Wild West era, such as James Butler “Wild Bill” Hickock and George Armstrong Custer, stood out with their notably lengthy hair. An emblematic feature, remarkably, Custer would use cinnamon oil to make his hair smell nice.
When cowboys ventured into townships, a lavish array of self-indulgences awaited them: haircuts, shaves, as well as hot baths, fresh attire, and double meals. Occasionally, a fragrant hair tonic would accentuate the experience.
During the late 19th century, long hair was out, and men started cutting their hair regularly. It is believed that men began to wear their hair shorter as a rejection of antebellum norms.
