“She of the open soul and open door, With room about her hearth for all mankind.” —Trade: James Russell Lowell. The first glove-makers in Europe, we may suppose—certainly the first, skilled in that art, to work together in brotherhoods—were the monks of the early Middle Ages. In common with many other old-established handicrafts, the glove trade is deeply indebted to the Church. On this point, William S. Beck, the leading English authority on glove lore of thirty-five years ago, has summed up the conditions most interestingly and clearly. He says: “Muscular Christianity is no new doctrine. Faith and works were once literally united in a secular sense. Before corruptions crept in, and while monastic establishments maintained the simple lines on which they had been founded, their inmates were the most skillful and industrious of artisans. Weaving, illuminating, gardening, embroidery, woodwork—these and many other occupations were practiced sedulously by the holy friars. The original idea of the founders of these institutions was to bring together a company of Christians who were workers. Benedict enjoins his followers to fight valiantly against idleness, the canker of truth. “‘Therefore,’ he prescribes, ‘the brethren must be occupied in the labor of the hands, and again at certain times in divine study.’ As early as 790, as has been mentioned in a preceding chapter, Charlemagne granted to the abbots and monks of Sithin in ancient France unlimited right of hunting the deer for skins of which to make gloves, girdles and covers for books. These gloves, made in the monasteries, assuredly were worn, not only by the higher orders of the clergy, but by the king and his nobles. They may have been a direct means of revenue among the monks; in any case, they were a favor exchanged for the patronage and support of the feudal lords in maintaining monastic property. Needless to say, gloves were one of the luxuries of early trade and barter, and it was a late period before they became, to any extent, an article of common exchange. As gifts to kings and personages of high rank, they were borne from country to country, and In France, glove-making as an industry, independent of the monasteries, was certainly well established in the twelfth century. In 1190 we find the Glovers of Paris organized under a settled code of statutes received from the king. Across the channel, gloves are first mentioned, as an incorporated trade, in Scotland, where the glovers formed a company called “The Glovers of Perth” during the reign of Robert III., who figures in Scott’s Fair Maid of Perth, and ruled between 1390 and 1406. This company was principally employed in making buck and doeskin gloves. Thence the trade spread over Scotland, but it did not long hold its importance. “Dundee” gloves enjoyed a picturesque fame; but Hull remarks, in 1834, that “they had little more than the term to recommend them.” Indeed, the greater part of them were made in Worcester, England, and were sewn cheaply, with cotton, instead of silk. A few gloves were also turned out in Montrose, Scotland; the leather for these, however, was sent from London. Very early in their history the English began to experience commercial rivalry with the French, and one of the first products to be strongly affected, to England’s detriment, was gloves. As far back as the reign of Edward IV., in 1462, we find the English glove trade protected by prohibitory laws. These laws, in later years, must have become obsolete, as they do not appear ever to have On the occasion of the granting of the charter in 1638, certain abuses had crept into the industry, and it was to obviate these conditions that the document was demanded and granted by the king. It reads: “Whereas, by an humble petition presented unto us by our loveing subjects, living in and about our Cities of London and Westminster, using the arte, trade or mistery of Glovers, “We have been informed that their families are about four hundred in number, and upon them depending about three thousand of our subjects, who are much decayed and impoverished by reason of the great confluence of persons of the same arte, In view of such abuses as these, the London Company was given very exclusive powers, one of which was “to search for and destroy bad or defective skins, leather or gloves.” The name of the first Master of the Glovers’ Company has come down to us in certain parish registers of the seventeenth century, in which he is mentioned as “William Smart, of the parish of St. Giles, Cripplegate, Glover.” In his parish the trade seems to have been especially flourishing. Perhaps the London industry labored under greater difficulties, on the whole, than Despite the feelings and the best efforts of those Englishmen who sought to foster and strengthen the home glove trade, the prohibitory laws remained always more or less lax—chiefly because the aristocracy and gentry preferred the French glove, and, for the most part, were not interested in the welfare of English glovers and artisans—until, in 1825, the ban on imported gloves was officially removed. The effect upon France was electrical. The British ports were flung open to her at a time when Grenoble, Paris and her other glove cities were swinging back on the crest of the new wave of industrial prosperity and progress which had received its momentum in the days of the Empire—a period which witnessed the revival of much of the former elegance of France, so lately eclipsed by the Revolution. In 1832, the legal importation of French gloves into England was 1,516,663 To English glovers, on the contrary, the results were anything but fortunate. A brief survey of the vicissitudes of the English glove towns may serve to show how dearly the glove industry was forced to pay for the new national system of Free Trade. In Worcester, close rival of London, the glove craft is known to have existed since 1571, and in 1661 the Glovers’ Company of that city was incorporated. Here an elaborate manufacture was carried on, including “Venetian” gloves, made in imitation of those originally imported from Venice. As long as French gloves were not freely admitted, the beaver gloves of Worcester also enjoyed great prosperity; but with the re-importation of the former, beaver gloves went out of fashion, and the Worcester makers turned their attention to alum leather gloves which were produced in large quantities until 1825. The complete removal of the prohibitory regulations, however, was fatal to this last-named article, which could not hope to compete with the far finer product from abroad. From that date, the English manufacture rapidly decayed, despite every effort of the masters and the work people to readjust their difficulties. How hard Worcester itself was hit, is shown by a statement given by the Committee of Operative Glovers in 1832. It reads: In the year 1825, immediately before the introduction of French gloves, there were few, if any, work people idle in Worcester, and the trade was prosperous. On January 10, 1832, out of one thousand men, the state of employment stood as follows:
Of the 465, many did not average more than two shillings, sixpence, per week. The number of children totally dependent upon these one thousand men was 1,748. The poorhouses were overrun, and large sums for relief were paid out of the public pocket. Worcester, the chief glove city outside London, continued to decline. In Woodstock the Glovers never were incorporated, but the manufacture was pursued from a remote period. Some of the finest English craftsmen labored here to produce a very beautiful glove; and that they attained to a high degree of perfection is certified by the fact that the University of Hexham furnished a peculiar glove—so long-established that we may regard it as having descended unbrokenly from the old Saxon gluf—called the “Hexham tan glove,” made from native sheep skins. The gauntlets attached to suits of armor were made in the same style; and many centuries ago it was an important trade in that place. But even its modern substitute fell into disuse about 1830. York “tans” were popular in the days of protection. Beaver gloves occupied 3,000 persons in Hereford, until the sudden industrial collapse of that town in 1825. Ludlow turned out 70,000 dozen pairs of gloves annually, and employed one-fifth of its population in that trade, collecting the skins from Scotland. In 1832, “not six men,” we read, were employed in glove-making there. Kington was another glove centre which failed before the middle of the nineteenth century. The glove workmen of Leominster numbered 900 in 1825; and on the eve of legal re-importation its factories were among the busiest in the kingdom. In 1831, its shops were deserted by all but 163 artisans. A community whose associations with gloves are particularly interesting, was Yeovil was famous for its military gloves for many years. Later, a fine imitation of kid gloves was made there; but these were crushed out by the return of the genuine foreign product. An idyllic industrial community was transformed almost over night into a desperate and dangerous populace, demanding by force the means of bread-winning which so suddenly had been denied it. Hull tells us that to quell these disturbances, two troops of dragoons were kept continually in the town, where, a few years before, “a horse-soldier would have been looked upon as a sort of centaur by the lower orders of the people.” A territory, not yet mentioned, which was closely bound up with the prosperity of the glove trade in England, was Ireland. Limerick, Dublin and Cork formerly were To one who views these facts it must be apparent that England never was intended to compete with France in the skilled making of the finest gloves. She could content her people with the home product only by excluding all foreign gloves; and even then, the privileged, who could bribe the government, insisted upon the secret importation of gloves from France. To be sure, the wave of protection rose high in 1462, in 1675 and in 1744; but, in every event there came a reaction, as far as the complete prohibition of gloves was concerned. Instead of supplying her own colonies with the home product, England even imported gloves from France, stored them in her warehouses, and then shipped them at an ad valorem duty to her East Indian possessions! The truth of the matter was, French glove-makers early had won the first place in Europe. Struggle as she might, it is exceedingly In France itself, we already have traced in the course of other chapters, more or less definitely, the development of the glove market. Particularly we have followed the fortunes of the trade in Grenoble, as being, most distinctively, the glove city of the world. We have seen Grenoble guarding her precious art from “the foreigner”; holding herself on the defensive against other French cities, of which, under the old laws and internal duties, she had no choice but to be jealous. We have noted how the Revocation ruined many of her neighbors, even while it stimulated competition beyond the confines of France. In the seventeenth century, Paris and Grenoble enjoyed the monopoly of the glove markets of Europe. During the eighteenth century, however, these cities began to cope with Germany, Italy, Austria, and even Russia, in glove-making. The vexed question of the exportation of skins was settled to the advantage of the manufacturers at home, and unnatural rivalry between the different French cities was smoothed away. The Revolution saw the entire industry, apparently, snuffed out. And yet, so deeply had the glove trade taken root in French soil Grenoble, on recovering from the shock of the Revolution, the long, dark days of the Terror, found, to her chagrin, that she had a formidable rival in Paris. Naturally, the capital city, the centre of the court, was the first place to feel the effects of the renaissance of glove-making. Paris swarmed with workers, and could get more sewers at lower wages than Grenoble contained within its gates. In 1810, however, the southern city began to reach out into the surrounding country for apprentices; and quickly the peasant people responded by the hundreds and thousands. Many of them flocked to the town, filling the places left destitute by the violent events of the last twenty years; and, for miles about, sewing was portioned out, to be done in the small villages and in isolated households scattered among the mountains. Grazing and goat rearing once more became a profitable occupation. It proved a long, proud pull—but the glovers of Grenoble were not to be daunted. At last that city’s ancient prestige was restored. The War of 1870, instead of being a set-back, was really a help; for the remoteness If the seventeenth century must be considered little short of marvellous as regards glove-making in Grenoble—and it may be compared, indeed, to the first five years of a child’s life, in which he makes, proportionately, his most astonishing progress—the achievements of the industry in the nineteenth century, if possible, have been even greater. Apart from the facts of the vicissitudes the trade had had to face, the battles it had waged—and won—all the vast accoutrements of modern machinery and scientific appliances now come into play. Also, a great, inventive genius has arisen, destined to revolutionize the art of glove-making. |