Table of Contents:

1. Introduction
2. Skin (Cleansing, Washing, Serums, Toners)
3. Teeth (Brushing, Odor)
4. Hair (Tools, Cleansing, Thickening)
5. Shaving (Soaps, Razors, with a brief digression on Scissors)
6. Sex Stuff (Lubrication, with a brief digression on the Condom)

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A prelude:

Much of this meta draws from recipes and formulas available to civilians in the 1840s and immediately preceding decades. (And maybe up through 1850, I'm wild that way. When I do Terror research I usually set my parameters between 1820 and 1850 -- within adult memory for many men aboard.) If you happen to have inside knowledge of Franklin expedition-specific skincare and hygiene practices, please share your info and I'll be happy to make corrections and additions!

Many of the products described in books of receipts (that is, recipes, for everything from topical treatments for skin conditions to tasty candy) would have been in circulation for a substantial span of time on either side of their initial publication date. I'm including these receipts not necessarily because our characters in canon would be preparing their own soaps and balms, but because it'll give you a sense of the ingredients/consistency/texture of products purchased commercially or perhaps provided by family members.

These receipts don't reflect Indigenous health and beauty products and techniques to any degree, nor do they likely reflect the resources and experiences (even among early Victorian British people) of the very rich or the very poor. My receipts given here also veer toward gender-neutral or masculine-leaning products; in these same sources there's no shortage of tools and preparations for more feminine-presenting people, and if you want help finding anything there give me a shout.

Thanks to everybody who talked about this with me on Twitter!

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Introduction: Cleanse Or Die

- Name?

- William Wentzell, sir. From Terror.

- Well, your nails are a terror, Mr. Wentzell. You are far from an excuse for this. Mark down three days duty owing, and one for that collar. Men! I will wager you've never had more time than this to keep yourselves neat! But I also understand, given our numbers, you have likely never had less time at the basin. Even so, nine of you earned duty in the log today. That must improve. Next week, that number will be zero. Is that understood?

James Fitzjames, "First Shot A Winner, Lads"


*


Cleanliness was a big damn deal in the Royal Navy of the 1840s -- it was associated with good moral order as well as basic disease prevention. Weekly bathing, scrubbing, shaving, and all that good stuff were all signs of good discipline as well as dutiful attention to personal appearance. The men of Erebus and Terror were in a slightly better position than their predecessors in that they were equipped with steam engines and at least had theoretical access to lots and lots of hot water.

From Elise Juzda Smith's "‘Cleanse or Die’: British Naval Hygiene in the Age of Steam, 1840–1900":

The Royal Navy had long anticipated these concerns, and had instituted washings and sanitary inspections following the recommendations of Trotter and Blane. Its celebrated reputation for cleanliness was only enhanced by technological innovations following the transition to steam.

The presence of the boilers particularly benefitted personal hygiene. A constant supply of hot water meant that men could look forward to cleanliness as a ‘duty as well as a pleasure’, with a weekly warm wash with soap. The notion that keeping clean was a ‘duty’ reflected the notion that all seafarers were partially responsible for their own health – and those of their shipmates – through sanitary precautions. The same logic underlay the requisite cleaning of dirty clothing and bedding, which evoked similar hygienic scrutiny given their association with skin complaints ranging from herpes to eczema and ulcers.

(The footnotes on this paper are fucking incredible for anyone interested in shipboard medicine and epidemic disease in the Royal Navy post-1840. Read it!)

We see this theoretical connection between hygiene and collective health reflected in canon -- as the crew's morale and health deteriorates, so does their ability to maintain their personal appearances, and as conditions become more crowded and disorderly, the men become more dirty. Early Victorian personal care is at a bit of a crossroads between more newly available commercial patent products and the old standbys of the late Georgian period; furthermore, shipboard personal care is restricted by close quarters and practicality, and personal stockpiles of toiletries are limited by the limited storage space available on a Polar expedition, even for the highest-ranking crew members.

But what if I want to know how these filthy seamen get clean? (At least before they abandon the ships; after that point, you're on your own.) What if I want to write about Little's haircare routine? What if I want to write an erotically fraught Gibson/Crozier shaving scene set pre-1x03? (Spoilers, I do, and I have.) What if I want to describe exactly what Fitzjames smells like? What if I want to make a butt extremely slippery? There's options and the options are spicy.

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Skincare: or, Take Thee Much Soap

Cleansing & Washing Up

Washing up at the basin seems to have been the norm for the men of Erebus and Terror, rather than full-body immersion. (With the exception of those dudes in the hot tub at Carnivale.) Hot water is available in relative abundance aboard ship, as is cold water thanks to all the ice, and a variety of brushes/cloths/flannels might be used for manual scrubbing; soap is available to every member of the crew, but the quality and characteristics of that soap can vary according to its user's rank and resources. Some of this is financial and some of this is practical -- the officers and their stewards have different cleansing needs than the ship's doctors and surgeons, and both groups have different budgets to blow on specialty soaps than Sir John at the top, or one of the ship's boys at the very bottom. You can fine-tune your descriptions according to the character and their resources -- is their soap heavy or light? A little bar or a big chunk? Semi-liquid or solid? Coarse or delicate? Nice-smelling or not? Is it taken from the top of their private stash, purchased alongside their tea and sugar at the start of the voyage, or has it been issued in a chunk, doled out by the ship's purser from the ship's own stores?

(Note: The purser on Erebus seems to have been Charles Hamilton Osmer; not sure who was taking on that responsibility for materials on Terror.)

The broad division in soaps for this era is between toilet soap for bathing and non-toilet soap, that is, soap for every other purpose under the sun. The three biggest name options I see for toilet soaps in *formularies* of this period (not necessarily reflective of a broader marketplace) are Castile soap, Naples soap, and Windsor soap.

• Castile soap, aka Spanish soap → hard, opaque, white, olive oil-based, sold by the cake.
• Naples soap → pale brown, soft, fragranced, sold by the pot, recommended for shaving.
• Windsor soap → fairly hard, basic brown or finer white, fragranced, recommended for shaving, sold by the cake or already moulded in a pot.

From what I can tell, the ubiquitous use of carbolic soap (aka red soap) is too late for our time period. Hands, face, hair, and body might all be washed with the same soap; the face might also be washed with plain water. In civilian life, daily washing of the hands and face (and perhaps other bits) was desirable during this period when circumstances allowed it; from the cues we get in canon, it sounds like regular washing is expected at all levels of the crew, but not necessarily taking place on the lower decks. Nail brushes are attested from this period; I can find one especially winceworthy reference in a 1849 paper regarding the transmission of puerperal fever in Vienna:

Again, when it is remembered that in many dead-houses, from the absence of a nail-brush, frequently of soap and warm water, the hands cannot be properly washed, it is exceedingly probable that a portion of this cadaveric matter is retained under the nails; and it is very easy to understand how, on examination made subsequently per vaginam, this poison should be directly and effectively applied.

Brb fucking shuddering forever. So… hopefully Goodsir and the gang are washing their hands after handling dead bodies and human effluvia, but not necessarily because the link between hand-washing and the prevention of secondary disease transmission is necessarily widely understood. As Fitzjames notes, your average A.B. would be sharing space at the basin with dozens of other sailors; stewards and others with access to private living spaces might be afforded a space to store a personal pitcher and basin for more private ablutions.

Pomatum?

Pomatums, or Pommades.

These are composed usually of animal fats, variously perfumed. The lard, veal fat, beef and mutton suet, bear's fat, and beef marrow, employed for this purpose, require to be prepared with great care…

- The Druggist's General Receipt Book


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"Pomatum" is a catch-all for a type of composition in this period, especially in pre-1840 sources, rather than a name for a product with one specific use -- "soldier's pomatum" was slang for a piece of tallow candle, suggesting a little of the (gross) versatility of fat-based cosmetics. Some uses of the word clearly refer to hairstyling products for both long and short hair, as you might expect from the more modern sense of the word; others refer to something serving more like a moisturizer, solid serum, or skin balm. You can find tinted pomatums, fragranced pomatums, fragrance-less pomatums, and pomatums made with (or just named after) bear's grease.

Hard Pomatum . — Melt in a water bath a quarter of a pound of lard, quarter of a pound of mutton suet, and one ounce of white wax, take it off the fire, add a little spirits of wine, and for scent, otto of roses, or any other you choose. Stir it continually till nearly cold, turn it into moulds; when cold take them out, and put paper round them.

Soft Pomatum . — Melt in a water bath half a pound of the best lard, take it off the fire, and add half a pint of rose water, stir it continually with a clean piece of wood or ivory, made in the form of a spatula or knife, until it is cold, then drain off the superfluous water that swims on the surface, add a few drops of the otto of roses, or any other scent you please. In order to prevent its turning rancid, add a table spoonful of spirits of wine.

- Henry Gilford's General Receipt-Book

(The note about rancidity is also worth noting if you're writing Terror fic set on the expedition.) Bear's-grease preparations in particular were commercially packaged by the jar and promoted for the growth of hair until well into the 20th century.
Source: auction lot on Invaluable.com.

This… is funny in a Terror context, yeah? Am I sick for thinking this is funny? These lids and variations are beautifully well-represented among collectors; some feature polar bears, while others depict mythological themes and scenes of animal cruelty.

Sources for more bears:
- "Some Bears Grease Pot Lids & Pharmacy Items" @ The Antique Pot Lid Collector
- "John Gosnell & Company, Russian Bear’s Grease and Diamonds" @ A Mudlark's Diary

Serums & Toners

The vocabulary around skincare was notably different during this period (duh); there's a lot of talk of milks, washes, and lotions. It's not always clear what each formulation is supposed to do, but there's a shitload of these washes aimed at various purposes.

Wash for the Face.

— Mix a quart of milk and a quarter of a pound of saltpetre beaten to powder. Add thereto a little of the oil of aniseed, and rather less of the oil of cloves, with about a quarter of a gill of white wine vinegar. Put these into a bottle, and place it in sand half way up, exposed open to the sun, or in some warm place, for a fortnight; afterwards cork it up for use.
-- An infusion of horse-radish in milk makes an excellent wash, and so does the fresh juice of house-leek, mixed with an equal quantity of new milk or cream.
-- Honey water applied to the skin in frosty weather, will keep it from being chopped.
-- Another elegant wash is made of four ounces of potash, as much rose water, two ounces of brandy, and two of lemon juice, mixed in two quarts of water. A spoonful or two of this composition put into the basin, will finely scent and soften the water intended to be used. - The Domestic Oracle

Not sure what potash and saltpeter are supposed to do for you, but looking forward to finding out. These are a little outside of the scope of shipboard life, but they're cool.

But what about chapped skin and moisture retention? The following recipes come from Colin MacKenzie's Five thousand receipts in all the useful and domestic arts, circa 1830 -- due to the target audience of MacKenzie's work, I'd wager even this level of complexion care was understood to be the province of women, but if you feel like getting gendery or you really want to know period options for looking after chapped lips and cheeks, these indicate that at least they were aware of the use of fats, oils, and waxes to soften and moisturize. Petroleum jellies like Vaseline, though Victorian, are later than our canon period.

Cold cream pomatum for the complexion
Take an ounce of oil of sweet almonds, and half a drachm each of white wax and spermaceti, with a little balm. Melt these ingredients in a glazed pipkin, over hot ashes, and pour the solution into a marble mortar; stir it with the pestle until it becomes smooth and cold, then add gradually an ounce of rose or orange-flower water; stir all the mixture till incorporated to resemble cream. This pomatum renders the skin at once supple and smooth. To prevent marks from the small pox, add a little powder of saffron. The gallipot in which it is kept, should have a piece of bladder tied over it.
Lip salve for chapped lips
Put eight ounces of the best olive oil into a wide-mouthed bottle, add two ounces of the small parts of alkanet-root. Stop up the bottle, and set it in the sun; shake it often, until it be of a beautiful crimson. Now strain the oil off very clear from the roots, and add to it, in a glazed pipkin, three ounces of very fine white wax, and the same quantity of fresh clean mutton suet. [...] Melt this on a slow fire, and perfume it when taken off, with forty drops of oil of rhodium, or of lavender. When cold, put it into small gallipots, or rather whilst in a liquid state. [...] This salve never fails to cure chopped [i.e. chapped] or sore lips, if applied pretty freely at bed-time, in the course of a day or two at farthest.

MacKenzie gives this recipe in two varieties, both of which are recognizable to anyone who's made a modern salve or balm with solar-infused oil. The red color imparted by alkanet makes this a tinted salve, so probably not suitable for daily use in the Royal Navy, but the colorless equivalent (what MacKenzie calls white lip salve) is just the same as the above, minus the alkanet; he cites that it's also good for chapped nipples. This is a dead basic moisturizing balm I could make on my stove today, with the exception that for modern DIY balms the suet might be swapped out for another fat like coconut oil or omitted altogether. Similar balms might come in handy for chapped skin elsewhere on the body, as with body-safe oils like almond oil and spermaceti.

Rancidity, storage space, and personal vanity would all be factors here -- the ships were stocked with soap for the average sailor to maintain basic hygiene and appearance, but everything in deeper detail than that is just me speculating. If anyone has primary sources talking about hygiene on contemporary polar voyages or on the Franklin expedition in particular, I'd love to hear them.

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Tooth Care: or, Rise & Grind

In a canon where a bunch of dudes are losing their teeth… I know, yikes. Dentifrice powders are available in this period, whether commercially purchased or DIY'ed. The Druggist's General Receipt Book (1850) has dozens and dozens of these recipes, as well as accompanying tooth pastes, which are basically just finely-ground tooth powders mixed with honey.

A Dentrifrice, to Preserve and Whiten the Teeth, and Correct a Tainted Breath.
Take:
Vitriolated tartar - 2 drachms
Dragon’s blood and myrrh, each 1 drachm
Gum lac - 1 drachm
Ambergris - 4 grains,
And, if you like, musk - 2 grains.

Let these be well powdered and mixed in a marble mortar, and kept in a stopped bottle for use.
- The Mirror Of Beauty

The same author also recommends ground betel nut charcoal for toothbrushing, or if you can't get that, fortnightly brushing with gunpowder or a preparation of nitre and charcoal. There are bucketloads of ostensible treatments for gum disease and irritation, toothache, etc. in contemporary sources. Basically, oral hygiene was a concern in civilian life, and you have a lot of leeway here according to rank and resources.

Writers in receipts-books of this period mention the use of marshmallow twigs and other sticks to clean the teeth, but I'm reasonably certain that purpose-made toothbrushes were commercially available by 1845, though far from ubiquitous. MacKenzie also talks about the use of toothpicks and anxiety about further loosening damaged teeth, which is germane to our Franklin expedition fellows.

Odor of the breath was also a matter of concern in early Victorian sources, so if you're stressed about your post-miraculous-rescue characters dealing with long-term dental issues from scurvy, or you want to make your characters stressed about it, you have options. Perfumed breath pastilles, scented tooth powders, and treated mouthwashes were all options.

5/27/2021 Update: Parks Canada has released images of a toothbrush recovered from the captain's steward's pantry on Erebus; it has an ivory handle and horse-hair bristles. The handle is inscribed with the name of its retailer, which is another really fascinating detail here about how these personal items were supplied.


Toothbrush. Unknown; before 1845. Parks Canada, Wrecks of HMS Erebus and HMS Terror National Historic Site

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Fragrance: or, the Smell Of An Englishman

It will not surprise you all that I am very interested in the history of fragrance! The modern, Western-style dichotomy between “men’s fragrances” and "women's fragrances" didn’t exist as we know it in the early Victorian period; however, fragrance still had its own social baggage, more related to how and when you wore it (and how much you wore) than "only girls can smell like flowers".

There are a number of note combinations that make up specific recognizable perfumes, at least as far as pharmacists and other folks inclined to brew up fragrances for use and sale are concerned -- things like eau de Cologne or Carmelite water. The Druggist' General Receipt Book lists off dozens and dozens of these, some of which are relatively recent (I see one that seems to be created in honor of Queen Victoria) and some of which are relatively old, like Carmelite water. Single-note floral waters are big here for our period -- as in modern hydrosols/floral waters, it's a tossup if you're getting plain water with a couple drops of essential oils added, or an actual distilled floral water, but the fragrance and application are much the same. Orange-flower water seems to be at the top of the heap. Fragranced hair oils and pomades are also an option here for scenting of the person, as are scented vinegars, and for the scenting of clothes and linen we have scented sachets, scented powders, and scented balls.

In 1830s-1850s perfume formularies I see notes like:
• otto of roses
• jasmine (jessamine)
• neroli
• bergamot/lemon/orange
• musk
• benzoin
• ambergris
• lavender
• violet
• clove
• cinnamon

Would a bunch of miserable rough and ready sailors in the nth year of their one-year voyage be smelling like roses? Yeah, idk either! But if you want to write about expeditioners in better times, officers gussying themselves up for a special occasion, or sailors straining to look their best, *or* about characters back in England (Lady Jane, Sophia, JCR, etc.), fragrance is still an option and you shouldn't be afraid of floral notes. The use of fragrance is still fraught with baggage about morality and character -- sexual propriety, delicacy, good breeding -- but the strict binary of Smells For Ladies and Smells For Men isn't yet the norm in 1840s Britain. Well-groomed dudes can wear orange-blossom water without fear, and "cologne" is not yet a euphemism for Perfume, But Manly.

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Haircare: or, How To Brush Your Rat

Beauty and permanence of the hair are best preserved by regularly washing it. To prevent its becoming dirty and greasy it ought to be washed frequently with soap and warm water. The prejudice against wetting the hair is absurd. Perfect cleanliness can be ob- tained no other way. The frequent use also of the comb and brush is of the utmost importance. In washing the hair the head or scalp must receive its portion of the water, to loosen and remove the dirt, this method is much more effectual than by the use of the comb to the dry hair, as the comb often wounds the skin, and is often the occasion of the scales.
- Valuable Receipts; or, the mystery of wealth

Cleansing

This is an area where I admit I'm stumped about period expectations specific to men. I know a fair bit about the care of long hair during the 18th and 19th centuries, where weekly or biweekly washing with Castile soap or the like seems to have been the norm when circumstances allowed. However, I'm having a hard time finding specifics for short-haired men. It seems possible that they washed their hair using plain water or with water + soap during their regular (again, at least weekly) ablutions, but I doubt we should be thinking about daily washing of hair either, especially not for curly-haired crew members. (My extensive research, aka asking all my twitter mutuals and Googling "CURLY HAIR HOW OFTEN WASH", all points to less-frequent shampooing often being advantageous for curlier hair textures to avoid frizz and dryness.) Less frequent hair washing and in particular less frequent use of cleansers might make for a different hair texture than modern daily shampoo use, especially for longer hair -- but that's something the characters themselves would be used to; this was their normal.The body's own production of scalp oils would have balanced out early on in the shipboard wash schedule, if they weren't already in line with a similar cleansing schedule from life ashore.

Thickening

In addition to the aforementioned bear's grease, there were other precautions against thinning hair. You guessed it: more washes!

Admirable wash for the Hair, said to thicken its growth better than Bear’s Grease.
Take two ounces each of rosemary, maidenhair, southernwood, myrtle-berries, and hazel-bark, and burn them to ashes on a clean hearth or in an oven ; with these ashes make a strong [lye] with which wash the hair at the roots every day, and keep it cut short; this wash destroys the worm [of… baldness?] at the root, and proves far more effectual than bear’s grease or pomatum, which rather feed than destroy that unsuspected enemy to the human hair.
- The Mirror Of Beauty

This level of hair care regimen would be a hell of a lot easier achieved at home on English soil than aboard ship, I'm only including it because it's interesting to me and because of the off chance you're writing about characters ashore. Treatments for baldness are also a big thing in contemporary sources, both commercially-available formulations and homebrew remedies, but their efficacy seems doubtful.

Combs And Brushes

We have a number of extant combs from the expedition's relics, including a folding pocket comb from the belongings of gunroom steward Thomas Armitage. It's a folding horn comb that stashes away into a lacquer case.


Pocket comb. Unknown; before 1845. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London.

Other relics include straight-tooth bone combs; these look like personal artifacts to me. It sounds like horn combs were more expensive than bone combs, tortoiseshell was more expensive than horn, and ivory was more expensive than all of them.


A bone comb. Unknown; before 1845. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London.


A bone comb. Unknown; before 1845. National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, London.

In recent discoveries, hairbrushes appear to have been present among the Franklin artifacts recovered from the wrecked ships themselves. If anyone can speak to brush use for styling short hair, give me a shout. 5/27/2021 Update: Parks Canada has released images of a hairbrush recovered from the officers' quarters on Erebus; it has a satinwood handle and unidentified (though it seems to be likely animal) bristles.


Hairbrush. Unknown; before 1845. Parks Canada, Wrecks of HMS Erebus and HMS Terror National Historic Site

Styling & Conditioning

Hair oil and fat-based pomatums are the order of the day here too -- I find more late-19th-century sources lamenting the excesses of hair oil than what was considered to be permissible in good taste, but once again hair oil is a relatively unisex consideration for treating, conditioning, and styling the hair. If you've ever tried to use a modern hair oil on shorter, finer hair, you'll already be aware of some of the shortcomings there by 2020 standards -- they tend to make hair feel heavy, wet-looking, and yeah, kinda oily -- but for curly-haired characters or characters with thicker hair, oil-based treatments are likely a welcome addition to keep their hair nice and hydrated in the Arctic.



When we look at the guests in the dinner scene in 1x01 I'd wager a little oil or oil-based pomatum is responsible for these fellows' nicely parted and styled, nicely shiny hair. Don't fear the oil. Embrace the oil.

I don't know much about hair-curling technologies for shorter hair (curling papers? rag curls?) but if you do, put it in your fic.

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Shaving: Soaps

Shaving could be a whole separate entry here; self-expression via facial hair is clearly not unknown to the men of Terror and Erebus, as demonstrated in their dizzying wealth of sideburns and muttonchops, but as we see in canon there are characters like Crozier who are shaved by their stewards and characters like Gibson who are tasked with the maintenance of their own facial hair. Shaving soap isn't necessarily that different in composition from other types of toilet soap during this decade; fragrance and lather are where it's at.

Windsor Soap
To make this famous soap for washing the hands, shaving, &c. nothing more is necessary than to slice the best white soap as thin as possible, melt it in a stew-pan over a slow fire, scent it well with the oil of caraway, and then pour it into a frame or mould made for that purpose, or a small drawer, adapted in size and form to the quantity. When it has stood three or four days in a dry situation, cut it into square pieces, and it is ready for use. By this simple mode, substituting any more favourite scent for that of caraway, all persons may suit themselves with a good perfumed soap at a trifling expense. Shaving boxes may be at once filled with the melted soap, instead of a mould.
- The Mirror Of Beauty

Shaving & Beard Care: Tools



In canon we see exclusively straight-razor shaving; as Crozier shaves himself in 1x07, it's established in dialogue that his steward Jopson is normally the one to do the honors. It seems likely Jopson is the one who ordinarily maintains Crozier's razor, keeping it clean, sharp, and polished; ditto for other characters who receive personal attention from a steward but for whatever reason don't shave themselves.





The personal-care shears we see in canon look to be on the simple side, likely holdovers from the late 18th and early 19th century styles. Gibson trims his beard with a small pair of scissors in 1x03, but it's damn hard to get a good screencap of them; Tozer uses another small pair of scissors to clip Heather's nails in 1x05. It is possible these little scissors are designated for personal care only, or that they're all-purpose scissors appropriated for hygienic tasks that might be used to snip a stray thread or do minor sewing repairs.

<
Extant Franklin expedition scissors at the Royal Museums Greenwich


A pair of early Sheffield-plated silver scissors, likely of Georgian manufacture but potentially still in use by our period.

There's an abundance of extant 19th century straight razors and shears out there on auction sites and the like if you want to get super duper specific or find a visual reference; there's a lot of resources for identification by manufacturer, location, and year. Like combs, you can express a particular character's financial straits or anything else you choose in their choice of razor and its state of upkeep.

- "Straight Razor History", RazorArchive.com
- "The History Of Straight Razors", The Invisible Edge
- "Straight Razor Manufacturers And Dates Of Operation", Roadshow Collectibles
- "The Cutting Edge: Antique Scissors" by Carolyn Meacham in Elegant Arts Antiques: Points Of Interest


W. Greaves and Sons straight razor, English manufacture, Antipodean.com


Hibbard Spencer Bartlett & Co. straight razor, German manufacture, ebay.com


Joseph Smith & Sons "Celebrated" straight razor, English manufacture, ebay.com

The shape of the small silver inlay on the Joseph Smith & Sons razor handle reminds me of the missing inlay on the Armitage comb; not sure if that's just a common motif or a potential manufacturer connection.

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Lubrication: or, Tobias Greasy

I can ask cook for some grease, or I have an oil of castors... - Harry D.S. Goodsir, "Go For Broke"

So… butt stuff. If you've read this far it's probably because I told you there would be butt stuff. Canonically, the character who knows how to make a tight little ring extremely slippery is Mr. Goodsir (sorry) and he's on the right track. Nonspecific vials of oil are a historical gay fanfiction classic but if you want to get more specific than that, more power to you. As usual my refrain regarding impromptu lube is that if it's a body-safe oil -- sweet almond oil and olive oil are both enduring historical lubes -- or a rendered fat like whale oil, tallow, lard, clarified butter, or schmaltz, it's good enough for your fictional fave.

Side-note: We are in the era before widespread condom use, but not before the condom itself; condoms in the 1840s are made of animal membrane, and so broadly compatible with oil-based lubricants. (The rubber condom doesn't come about until the second half of the 1850s.) These early condoms were reusable but unreliable in preventing pregnancy; I've never encountered any indication of their use in the context of m/m sex, even for the prevention of STI transmission. However, that doesn't mean that you can't include them in fic or that you can't incorporate contemporary sexual health technology into your fic.

Back to oily bits. Nonspecific greases and castor oil… I guess… are fine? I'd normally say, if you'd eat it it's probably okay for your butt, but… maybe not on this expedition. Lamp oil and pilfered tallow are two quick-and-dirty options at a lower price point. Proceeding up the chain of fanciness, pomatums of all types are one option; hair oils are another. Tiny pots, jars, and boxes can finally take their rightful place alongside tiny bottles!

HUILE PHILOCOME D'AUBRIL. [...] equal parts cold-drawn nut oil, almond oil,and prepared beef marrow, adding any essential oil as a perfume.
MARROW OIL. Clarified Beef Marrow, or marrow pomatum, with enough almond or olive oil to bring into the desired consistence.
FLUIDE DE JAVA. This consists of beef marrow, white wax, fine olive oil, and essential oils at pleasure. - Druggist's General Receipt Book

(A fic: Crozier in bed, breathlessly growling to his lover about fetching his fluide de Java. Carry on.)

For lube-y purposes, almost all pomatum recipes seem to involve fat in one way or another -- lard, suet, tallow -- and depending on the ratio of soft fats to (optional) waxes, could be soft and slick when warmed by the skin. Think of the thick cream lubes sold at The Butters, but with more animal fat. The one direct citation for pomatum-as-lube (at least off the cuff from my ebook collection) is depressingly a reference for its use to facilitate the sexual assault of a teenage boy aboard the HM Sloop Rattler back in 1797, detailed in B.R. Burg's book Boys At Sea.

Many pomatums and hair oils appear to have been fragranced. The skin of the junk is really delicate and orifices in particular can have a delicate ecosystem, so avoiding anything with added fragrances is a good idea for IRL lubrication; however, in an era before purpose-built commercial lube, your characters may be making do with something that has a good chance of smelling like roses. If this bugs you, I don't see anything wrong with not mentioning fragrance or with specifying that, say, Irving eschews perfumed unguents. In general I try not to stress too much about whether a fictional character is going to get a yeast infection or the like, but I have one warning: if you specify undiluted *essential oils* as lube your readers will cringe and their buttholes will retract into their bodies and disappear. That shit burns.

As ever, saliva is an all-purpose option -- spit for handjobs! spit for penetration! spit for spite! spit for eroticism! spit for that extra zhuzh your sex scene needs! But if your characters are having sex in a more private setting or with an opportunity for some preparation, they have other options.

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Sources:

One final caveat that a number of these sources are US-based or at least published in the US; they certainly don't reflect the specific regional and class backgrounds of any characters in particular. I will freely admit that I used these particular sources because they're easiest for me to access -- all of these are available on sites like Google Books and Archive.org. If you made it this far, I take my hat off to you.

• The domestic oracle: or, A complete system of modern cookery and family economy, Alexander Murray, 1850
• The Druggist's General Receipt Book, Henry Beasley, 1850
• Five thousand receipts in all the useful and domestic arts, Colin MacKenzie, 1829
• The general receipt-book, or, Oracle of knowledge, H. Gilford 1834
• The Mirror Of Beauty, L.P. Lamont, 1830
• Valuable receipts; or, The mystery of wealth, J.H. Prescott, 1845

5/27/2021 Update: I would be really remiss here if I didn't include (once again) a link to Parks Canada's collection of Erebus & Terror wreck artifacts. Though only a few so far are hygiene and personal care-related, they still serve as poignant reminders of the day-to-day humanity of the men of the real-life expedition, and these additional details add more to what we know of the physical landscape of the ships as they were abandoned.