Mary looked outside, it was Mr. Richard from the garrison, standing ahead.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Richard.” She knew he’d gone to Longbourn looking for her a few days ago, but unfortunately she’d been in London at the time.
“Good afternoon, Mrs. Ethys.” Richard hadn’t come to cause trouble. “I just saw your deal with the London merchants. Given the good working relationship we’ve built before, this is business we could do together too.”
With that extra income suddenly gone, the officers, Richard included, would naturally need to make it up elsewhere. Soap made for a fine opening, and it would also let him keep up his working relationship with Mrs. Ethys.
The army needing soap wasn’t a problem in itself, but was doing business by selling straight to the army actually workable? Mary weighed it for a moment, and found she didn’t dislike the idea.
“Please, go on, Mr. Richard.”
“Whatever amount you have, we’ll take it, as long as the price is right!” Soap might sell for a low unit price, but if the army got involved, the quantities ordered would grow substantially. With that much volume, the profit wouldn’t be small either.
“That’s certainly tempting, but Mr. Richard, my household is just a small workshop, I’m afraid we can’t supply that much. Besides, I already have an arrangement with shops in London, and I need to prioritize keeping them supplied.” Her current wholesale price to London was three pence a bar, what would the army offer?
“Mrs. Ethys, we can issue an official army certificate. As long your soap is listed in the military supply catalog, once we’re working together, the tax you’d owe going forward could be cut by more than half!”
The tax reduction was quite the draw, and Mary was tempted to agree on the spot. Unfortunately, her stock wasn’t large yet, and the new equipment hadn’t even been put into use. Even with the new equipment running, freshly made soap still needed over a month to cure before it could ship.
“Mr. Richard, I’d very much like to agree right now. But unfortunately, my current stock really isn’t much, too little a quantity, and you’d turn your nose up at it. Let’s do this: once my new workroom is finished, we can talk this over in detail.” That would have to wait until next month.
“Very well, then I’ll look forward to your good news, Mrs. Ethys.” Richard stepped back a few paces, no longer blocking the carriage.
The carriage started moving again, and Mary began running the numbers in her head.
Once the workroom renovation was complete, her little soap workshop would be able to produce 2,000 bars of milk soap every two days, 30,000 bars a month. The earliest shipment date was expected to be the end of next month, and after that, output would settle into a steady rhythm.
If the army wanted a large enough volume, she could give them a price of two pence a bar, 2,000 bars would come to 4,000 pence before tax. With the army’s certificate, the original 7% tax would drop straight down to 3%, meaning only 120 pence owed.
Averaged out, the cost per bar would still come in under half a penny, meaning profits every two days could exceed 16 pounds. That profit margin was roughly comparable to selling at two and a half pence through her London contacts.
If things really went well with the army, Mary could earn a full 3,000 pounds a year from milk soap alone!
And that was based on producing just 2,000 bars every two days, what if she added a few more sets of equipment? Wait, earn 3,000 pounds first, then worry about that! Once she’d hit that mark, then she’d think about opening a proper soap factory in Meryton.
Back in Longbourn afterward, Mary kept a close eye on the workroom renovation.
The height of the pots needed to be right, the saponification vats and stirring tools had to be installed smoothly, and the original molds shouldn’t be discarded. Oh, and the lumber in the storehouse mustn’t run short, and the wood ash could be filtered and set aside in advance.
While busy with the workroom, Mary also made sure Old John and the others properly maintained the land for winter. Over the coming months, the fields would be planted with beans and other crops to help restore the soil’s fertility. The small patch of mint could be left alone, it would come back on its own next year, and this year’s crop had already been harvested.
Ugh, 200 acres of land still just weren’t enough. Should she ask the Bennet family to rent out some of theirs? Or perhaps just buy up some of the nearly unused land nearby?
Around the Richman family’s 200 acres, there were a few relatively poor plots of land. No one lived there, no one had cultivated it, and it had simply lain fallow all this time. Might as well buy it up and improve it properly, rather than let it go to waste.
But upon inquiring, she found the process of purchasing land was far too complicated. Especially for land without a clear owner, gentry, church, villagers, and all sorts of parties needed to be squared away before the sale could go through smoothly.
Better to think about it later, then, and focus on getting the soap business running well first.
In the final days of October, the Bennet family, escorted by Mr. Bingley, set off on their journey to Derbyshire. Mary, meanwhile, took Betsy and Molly into the new workroom to start rendering fat.
The 40-inch copper melting pot could render over 500 pounds of pork lard in one go. Of course, they didn’t need quite that much, but having the capacity ready wouldn’t hurt.
The cut blocks of leaf lard went into the pot, and once the bottom layer was fully laid, Mary paused. To make stirring easier, she waited for the lard already in the pot to start rendering out before adding more. Round after round, the amount of rendered fat in the copper pot kept building up.
From morning through afternoon, the three of them finally finished putting all 650 pounds of pork leaf lard from the slaughterhouse into the pot. After that came straining through coarse cloth to separate out the cracklings.
Once that was done, Mary calculated the rendering yield for this batch, about 82%, meaning 533 pounds of lard obtained.
That much certainly wouldn’t be used all at once, the rest would be reheated and used later.
Once that step was finished, the three of them moved from that workroom to the one next door. First, they poured the chilled milk, just taken from the cellar, into the saponification vat, then carefully poured in the wood-ash lye that had been left to settle for several days beforehand, stirring as they went.
Mary handled this whole task herself, since she was the experienced hand at it. Of course, she didn’t forget to point out to Betsy and Molly what they needed to watch for.
“None of this can touch your skin directly, it will burn you, so be very careful.” And, when stirring, they needed to keep watch on the temperature of the lye mixed with milk, too hot, and the soap liquid would tend to turn yellow.
Once this step was complete, they could add the freshly strained lard. By this point, the lard had cooled enough that its temperature wouldn’t differ too much from the milk-and-lye mixture.
Mary stepped aside, leaving the rest to stirring, hard, physical work that required the three of them to take turns.
By evening, the soap liquid in the vat had finally reached the ideal consistency, a thick, yogurt-like texture. Once the final brine was added, it would be ready for the molds.
Betsy stayed on to keep stirring while Mary and Molly each grabbed a wooden bucket to scoop it out. The molds had already been assembled, a 10-by-10 rectangular arrangement, and today they needed to fill twenty of them!
After pouring the soap liquid into the molds, they gave them a shake to settle it, scraped the edges clean, and once one tray was done, covered it with a wooden board layered with straw. Then the next mold went up, and the process repeated.
Patient, careful work, not difficult at all.
By the time all the soap liquid had been scraped clean, the stacked molds came to a full twenty-one trays! That meant the loss during saponification and molding had been even smaller than expected.
“All right, let’s finish tidying up.” Everything had gone smoothly, Mary’s calculated ratios hadn’t been off, and all that was left was to wait for the milk soap to be unmolded over the next day or two.
After a quick wash-up, everyone enjoyed a hearty dinner and then went to rest.
The next day, Mary checked the molds, it seemed the soap would need another night before it could be safely unmolded. That was fine too, unmolding within two days still counted as normal.
“Careful now, our molds are stuck tight against the soap, so tap them gently to loosen them, or you’ll ruin the shape.” The outer wooden slats on the sides of the molds came off first, revealing the outermost 36 bars of milk soap.
“Look, that’s very nice.” The creamy white soap body meant it had turned out well.
After several trips up to the third floor, the three of them finished unmolding all the milk soap and sent it off to cure. In about a month, Mary would be able to reach out to Mr. Richard. As for the London partners, their orders could still be met from stock for now, one production run’s worth of 960 bars over ten days was enough to cover two trading days.
With that done, a new round of soap-making began.
They didn’t waste the free day in between either, the lard needed had already been rendered ahead of time. Once heated up again after the unmolding, it would be ready to use shortly.
They brought out the milk and added the prepared wood-ash lye, and this time Betsy and Molly worked on it together.
Both wore sheepskin gloves and simple linen face coverings, one pouring the lye while the other stirred, a clear division of labor. When it came time to add the lard, they switched roles.
Throughout the whole process, Mary didn’t step in at all.
She couldn’t possibly do everything herself every single time, she needed to train up skilled hands. Once more equipment was added, the two of them would prove even more valuable.
After a few rounds like this, the two of them had fully grasped the soap-making process. From then on, Mary simply worked on her mint soap off to the side while they handled things.
By the time the Bennet family returned to Longbourn, more than twenty days had passed. After delivering the goods in Meryton, Mary had the coachman drive straight to the garrison to find Mr. Richard.
“Mrs. Ethys, our lieutenant said to call for him the moment you arrived, please wait a moment!” Another soldier she hadn’t seen before, though this one was noticeably far more welcoming than the last.
Mary hadn’t even waited five minutes before Mr. Richard came hurrying over.
“Oh, Mrs. Ethys, I’ve been looking forward to your visit!” Their last meeting had been on October 20th, today happened to be November 20th, exactly a month later.
“Mr. Richard, this is the milk soap from my workshop, take a look.” Mary greeted him and skipped straight to business. “Of course, this is just a sample, but I guarantee it’s the same quality as what I supply to the London merchants.”
“It looks quite good indeed, bring me a basin of water.” Richard wanted to verify it on the spot. “This is just standard procedure, Mrs. Ethys.”
“I understand, go ahead and test it.” There was nothing to worry about, her soap’s quality was certainly up to standard. The real matter to settle was still the price.
Richard, of course, didn’t test it himself, he called over a soldier who was only halfway through training and had him wash his hands and face right there.
The moment he washed, the originally ivory-white milk soap instantly turned dark! Only once he’d rinsed with fresh water did both the soldier, now thoroughly grimy, and the soap return to their original colors.
Mary watched the onlookers disperse, then watched as someone of higher rank entered. This man didn’t look like a soldier so much as a politician.
“Mrs. Ethys, I’ll issue you the certificate on this end, and we’ll pay in cash directly, give me a good price.” The newcomer offered no introduction, nor did he let Richard introduce him either.
“A good price depends on the quantity you want. I’m sure the army’s already inquired, the London merchants buy from me at three pence a bar, and that’s the wholesale price for an order of 960 bars at a time.” Mary gave him a benchmark.
“We’ll certainly need more than that, and we’ll need it on an ongoing basis. Mrs. Ethys, how does a price of two pence sound?” The officer had clearly come prepared. “I know making this milk soap takes time, so you can deliver it in batches. Each delivery, we’ll settle the account then and there.”
“That works. Delivery every five days, 4,800 bars each time, that comes to exactly 40 pounds.” Any issue with that?
“When’s the earliest you could deliver?” The officer had no objections.
“Ten days from now, that would be November 30th. The next delivery after that would be December 5th. We’ll deliver on the fifth and the tenth of each cycle, so there’s no chance of mixing up the dates.”
“Then we’ll see you on November 30th. I’ll bring the certificate, and the 40 pounds. Oh, and I’ll bring the tax officer along as well.” That way, this young lady would have nothing to worry about.
“Very well, we’ll see each other then.” Mary stood up, the verbal agreement was settled.
“Wait, Mrs. Ethys, there’s one thing I need to clarify—”