COMMENCEMENT OF THE TRADE.
At what period of the world the trade in question became a separate
means of obtaining a livelihood, it is now impossible to say. At first
no doubt, every one made their own shoes; the mere wrapping up of the
foot in a piece of flexible skin being matter of little difficulty, but
according to Rosseline, whom we quoted in a former chapter, shoemakers’
shops existed in Egypt at a very early period.
That it became, however, in a very early age, a trade, we may infer from
the fact of it being an injunction of the Jewish social system, that
every one, no matter what his rank or wealth, should be compelled to
acquire the means of self-support by an acquaintance with some art or
other, the better to secure himself against the adverse vicissitudes of
life. (See note on Mark vi. 3, in Pictorial Bible, vol. 3.) This
obligation naturally affords reason for belief in a variety of
professions; and the shoe, from its constant requisition, may,
therefore, be supposed to have given rise to one of the earliest.
In one of the Greek dramatic writings, allusion is made to the daily
earnings of the shoemaker; and in the far-famed anecdote of Apelles
exposing to public scrutiny some masterpiece of his painting, the
criticism of the cobbler, about the form or disposition of the latchet
or tie of the shoe, implies, as in the other case, a distinctive
character in the calling: the one receives his daily wages as a regular
acknowledged workman; and the other, from his proficiency in his art,
detects at once an error in the imitation.
The streets of Rome in the reign of Domitian, as Fosbrooke tells us in
his “Dictionary of Antiquities,” were at one time so filled with
cobblers’ stalls, (_cobbler_ being the usual way among writers of naming
the profession), that the emperor had to issue an order to clear them
away, probably to some less ambitious situation--to the narrow and
by-places of the city. St. Anianus, a contemporary with St. Mark, as
Alban Butler writes in his Lives of the Saints, was a shoemaker; and
Crispin and Crispianus, brothers and martyrs, have the well-known repute
of belonging to the trade; they are its patrons, and have their
fête-days yet in all catholic countries; and though there is no longer
any religious observance of the day in England, the name of Crispin is
still placed in the church calendar against the 25th of October: and the
shoemaker has still his traditions and his usages connected with the
time.
The law of England formerly, not only took cognizance of the quality of
the leather which the shoemaker wrought into his goods, but of the
number of stitches that he furnished. In one of the small towns in the
north of England, the custom of gauging shoes brought to market was
prevalent until lately, and the gauger had legal authority to take away
any shoe which had not the proper number of stitches. As his measure he
used the breadth of his thumb, which was meant for an inch. This,
therefore, is not an unpleasant retrospection; the king and his
parliament making enactments concerning the quality of the leather and
scrutinizing even the number of stitches.
The trade, as at present conducted in London and other large towns, may
be divided into two departments, viz.: the bespoke and the ready-made,
or sale-trade. The first of these ranks as chief, on account of the
superiority of the article; although the latter is the most general, and
is patronized by the bulk of the population.
A lady or gentleman requiring boots or shoes, pays a visit to a
respectable shop, and the measure is taken, either by the master or the
clicker; the order is entered in the order-book, and the time named when
they are to be ready. After the departure of the customer, the first
business is to select a pair of lasts adapted to the feet--the measure
is then applied to the length and circumference, and if suitable in the
general form and proportions, the number of the last entered in a column
opposite the name, &c.
The next business is to cut the pattern in paper; and, presuming it to
be a lady’s boot, the greatest care is taken in seeing that it stands
well--neither dropping back, nor pitching too much forward. The goloshes
round the side, the leather toe-caps, or whatever the form may be, of
the lower part of the boot, has its pattern cut also in paper; for much
depends on the correctness of these little matters.
The linen linings are then cut true to this pattern; the cashmere,
prunella, or cloth, cut to form the outside, and the morocco, patent
leather, or cordovan, added for the goloshing; and in this state it is
given to the binder. Great care is now required and exacted, in working
up the boot-leg true to the pattern; and if it be lace, button, or
elastic, the binder has it in her power to spoil the whole affair.
More, perhaps, depends on fitting the work, than the workmanship; a
union, therefore, of skill, in these two points, constitutes a good
boot-binder. The leg is next passed on to the _closer_, who, with the
awl, instead of the needle, closes the seams of the golosh; and then,
having lasted the boot, attaches the leather by means of a neat row of
stabbing round the edge, thoroughly through the leg and its lining. This
is the most secure, the neatest, and also the most expensive method, of
getting up a good boot-leg.
This boot-leg, which has been twice sent out from the shop, now comes in
to be again handed over to the maker, who receives the lasts, together
with the leather soles, insoles, welts, stiffenings, shank-pieces, and
other little matters essential to the work; not omitting, if the master
knows his business, or considers the comfort of his customers, a good
piece of _felt_, to insert _between_ the insole and outsole, to prevent
the intolerable nuisance of creaking. Neglect this, and besides the
music (the fillings, which are bits of leather pasted between the soles,
and which the workman is obliged to put in to make a level sole), you
get lumps, after a little wear, at the bottom of the tread, which give
great pain, and often produce corns and callosities on the soles of the
feet.
It would be tedious to the reader to describe the various manipulations
of the workman in making a pair of boots. If he accomplishes his work in
the course of a day, he does well; and keeping the boots on the last
during the night, to dry and get solid, is all that is required of him
before bringing them to the shop.
If he has attended to all his instructions for width of tread, thickness
of forepart, thinness of waist, height of heel, left no pegs sticking
up, and kept his work clean, there is every probability of the lady
being pleased, the master pleased, clicker pleased, workman pleased. But
should either have failed, inadvertently or through carelessness, in one
of the minute matters before mentioned, the boots are returned, and the
whole must be gone over again.
Few ladies are aware of the many little points required to produce a
good article with precision of fit; but let them consider, before they
try another _artiste_, that the first failure may insure a correct fit
the second time, and give no further trouble to them perhaps for life. A
little patience at the proper time, would often save a world of
annoyance in running from one shop to another, only to find out that all
were pretty much alike.
In describing the other department, and by far the most general in
large towns, the ready-made trade, it may at first be supposed that all
the evils of the bespoke system may be avoided. According to Barny
O’Rierdon, in Ireland they are entirely avoided, as a man comes into
market with a barrow full of brogues, and every one helps himself; there
is no measuring in the case, and if a brogue is too long, he claps a
wisp of straw in the toe.
There is a large class of persons in London, &c., who sell boots and
shoes, but do not manufacture them. The greater part of those persons
know no more how a boot or shoe is made, than the boots and shoes can be
said to possess such knowledge. These articles are principally made in
the country, or the eastern part of the metropolis, and sent up for
sale. Perhaps a hundred dozen pairs are made on one pair of lasts; the
makers, of course, have no idea who will be the purchasers, or of the
form of the feet of the parties who may wear them; nor do they care,
their object being merely the sale and the money.
Persons may occasionally purchase a pair of these articles which will
suit them tolerably well, as there is no rule without an exception; but
for one such instance, there are, perhaps, fifty to the contrary. While
some may prove good, others will be, perhaps, worthless; and though some
persons may be satisfied, most people will have abundant cause to
regret having risked a purchase.
In the “_cheap women’s trade_,” there is also much deception practised;
so that _cheap_ is only another word for what at last proves to be,
perhaps, the dearest part of the female’s expenditure for wearing
apparel.
The cause of the evil here indicated must be ascribed to one of those
many misconceptions of people’s own affairs, which are so often made
manifest in the conduct of individuals and classes. Masters and workmen,
quarrelling with each other, do not see, in the blinded and blinding
system of their reprisals, what must finally be the result. The
employer, in some cases, must be ignorant of the effect of his
curtailments; and the journeyman as ignorant as to the method he takes
to protect himself against such injustice. It is thus that the woman’s
shoemaker, more than any other class in the trade, has found himself
lowered within the last twenty-five or thirty years, in the scale of
society; and his abilities also, as a workman, deteriorated; the master
at the same time losing his own proper position, through the inferiority
of those articles he sells, and the public in general, as well as the
character of the nation itself, in a sense, injured. The master
curtails, or the journeyman exacts too much, differences ensue, fresh
men are employed, and the old ones, finding they must do something for a
living, move about and struggle on as they can, and ultimately, in their
despair, turn a sort of master for themselves. Here, however, as these
parties have no shop to expose their goods in, they must sell to those
who have; and thus finding _shop_ purchasers, the trade now takes a new
complexion. The issue may be readily told. The journeyman now becomes
the competitor in a closer sense than ever, with his fellow-journeyman;
and as the _cheapening_ system widens, the work still gets worse and
worse done, and money _bulk_, not money _worth_, becomes the only
standard in the business. London is at present the chief seat for the
manufacture of these sale women’s shoes and boots, though various
establishments of the same nature are growing up, day by day, throughout
the country. What the penny and twopenny paid shirts are to the hapless
needlewoman, the fourpenny and sixpenny-paid slippers are to the poor
sadly-miscalled _ladies’_ shoemaker. The evil, too, as connected with
the London journeyman, and those in other places, is still taking a
worse phase day after day. Leather, it is well known, as with all other
commodities, can be more profitably purchased in large than in small
quantities; and hence the master returns, in part, to his old
character. He now again gets ready his own materials, and gives these to
be manufactured by whom he pleases, as was formerly the case; the only
difference being, that his cuttings-out are now in manifold pairs, for a
chance sale, and not, as before, to a separate measure. There is now,
too, no other option for the workman; he must do this work, and at the
very lowest wages, or _starve_. He may, it is true, considerably slight
the articles; indeed, he must do so, to live at all: and this is now his
last and only dependence. And thus an art is found to retrograde, and
the fair face of our social progress to become spotted with these
deeply-to-be-lamented blemishes, the source of as much national demerit
and weakness, as they are of far-spread individual misery.
The Northampton, Daventry, and Wellingborough wholesale manufacture of
the man’s shoe and boot, may be traced to the same cause, and is as
productive of the like bad result. The system has grown in these places
to a portentous bulk, and that too in the short space of about a quarter
of a century. We see at present the goods of these places in the
shop-windows of almost every town in the kingdom, ticketed up at so much
the pair; the prices charged being in many cases much less than what
some masters pay to the better-qualified journeyman for the mere making
of similar-looking articles. The wealthier and more tasteful class of
consumers still continue, however, to prefer bespeaking (or to have
their measure taken for) their shoes and boots, than to run the risk of
any of these chance bargains; and thus, so far, the trade maintains a
certain degree of respectability, which is alike beneficial to both the
employer and the employed.
The English boot and shoe about thirty years since, was generally
speaking, the first article of its kind in the world, and so there was
nothing to apprehend while the master’s price was good and the workman’s
wages were good also; an evident decline, however, took place in the
character of our workmanship. The Spectator of the 15th Dec., 1838, thus
notices the absence of style in our boots and shoes: “A clumsy boot was
till lately a distinguishing mark of a true Englishman abroad; now
travellers get their feet neatly fitted in France, while all at home,
who regard personal appearance, prefer French boots, and the
predilection of the fair sex for shoes of Paris manufacture is
notorious.”
This competition has had the effect of improving the homemade article:
but still it is easier to bawl for prohibiting duties than to beat the
foreign workmen out of the market. An intelligent cordwainer, named
James Devlin, an experienced workman of a literary turn, has put forth a
little book on the boot and shoe trade of France, recommending to his
brethren of the craft the adoption of the French method, which he
describes with technical minuteness, and denouncing in his strictures on
the character of English upper-leathers, the hurried and careless
process of the tanner and currier. What Mr. Devlin says on the subject
of leather, accounts for the difference between a French boot that draws
on like a glove, and an ordinary English one that confines the foot as
in a vice, and hangs about the leg like a clog. If we look to the nature
of our leather, excepting that used for the soles, we shall find the
article not so good as that which the French bootmaker can purchase, and
what, still more pertinent to the matter is, that formerly it was not
so; confident I am, however, that a change might be obtained, as well
from the nature of our raw hides and skins themselves, as from the
ability of the working currier; and, in proof of this, let me instance
the superior quality of our own jockey, or topboot legs--so clear, so
soft, and workable--so handsomely grained, and so exquisitely drated. No
country can equal the British currier in this particular, nor in the
white leather, for the tops of these boots; why his inferiority in
other articles? The reason is obvious: England, if not now, was at least
some years ago, the only jockey-boot nation _par excellence_; and hence,
so far our superiority: the competition among us being so extensive as
to urge to the highest progressive perfection; and that perfection
always meeting its proper reward in the greater commands for orders.
Another fact to be attended to, is that in the boot department, we have
an inferior manner of blocking, or the turning the front piece of our
Wellington boot; in this we are far behind our neighbors.
Take up one of our bootfronts so prepared, and compare it with a front
coming from France (the Bordeaux is the best), and the difference is as
perceptible as lamentable. How stiff, how dead, and how forced, is the
one; and how easy, moist, and elastic, the other. The first, to one
unskilled in the operation, seems to be baked, rather than gently
moulded, when wet, into the position it has received; and then catch it
by top and toe and pull it ever so tenderly back, and lo! at once its
crabbed beauty is gone! and though you may press, push, or contract it
again into something of its original form, still it can never be made to
look the same as before. Now, do the like to the French front; nay,
more, you need not pull it tenderly, but with full force apply your
strength to the two extremities, force it until it be straight, and then
letting it go again, lay it on your board, and by a little application
of the hand, it will nearly look as well as ever--no puckerings, no
looseness, and still possessing the requisite curve.
Nothing can be more to the point than these strictures on the English
leather and English blocking, as compared with the French. For the last
seven years, I have in every order where calfskin fronts have been
required, used Bordeaux leather; it was not only soft, elastic, and
durable, but in addition to the pleasure derived from making up a good
article, it was as cheap as the English in the end, as we never had to
put in a new front or repair cracks and breakages, a constant source of
trouble and expense, incidental to the English fronts. It was no
uncommon case, a few years since, after having bought the best article
the trade could produce in calf-leather, after paying an extravagantly
high price, and making up the article in the best possible manner, to
find, after six or eight times wearing, a decided crack across the bend
of the foot. I have tried every expedient on those occasions I could
think of to prevent it, and acted on numerous suggestions from my
foreman and workmen, and all to no purpose: not unfrequently the “most
unkindest cut of all,” has been from the currier, who has laid the blame
by turn on the blocker, clicker, bootman; even the _feather_[1] has had
to bear its share of the blame.
This inferiority of calfskin has not only been the fault and disgrace of
the British tanner and currier, but his loss to an enormous amount; he
has been slow to admit it, but it is “a great fact;” a brighter day,
however, now opens upon him.
Dr. Turnbull, after patient and repeated experiments on the science of
tanning, has discovered the true cause of all this hardness and
breaking. To him the tanners and the public owe a debt of gratitude,
which they will both best discharge by patronising his invention. I have
had an opportunity of personally inspecting his process at Bermondsey,
from beginning to end, and I am enabled, through his kindness, to convey
the following information respecting his improved process of tanning:--
“The skins of the animals are composed of two chief parts: the corium or
cutis, and the cuticle or epidermis. The former, which is the true skin,
is a tissue of delicate fibres, crossing each other in all directions,
more thickly interwoven toward the surface, than in the deeper parts of
the skin. It is pervaded by a great number of conical channels, the
small extremities of which terminate at the external surface of the
skin. These channels, which are placed obliquely, contain nerves,
secretory vessels, and cellular membranes.
“The cuticle or exterior covering is an insensible horny membrane,
composed of several layers of cells, devoid of blood-vessels.
“The process of tanning consists in the combination of the gelatinous
substance of which the skin is principally composed, and the tonic acid,
or tannin. The gelatinous substance in skins, and the tannic acid,
having a strong chymical affinity for each other, the hide or skin is
converted into leather whenever tannin is brought into contact with the
gelatinous tissue or fibre.
“The slowness of the process in tanning leather, and the imperfect
manner in which it has hitherto been accomplished, arise from the
difficulty in bringing the tannin or tannic acid into contact with the
gelatinous tissue, or fibre of the skins; and although, of late years,
considerable modifications of the old method of tanning have been
introduced, chiefly consisting in the employment of new materials, and
the application of hydrostatic pressure, yet the result, upon the whole,
has been merely to effect a saving of the time consumed in tanning, and
a consequent reduction of the price, without any improvement in the
quality of the leather, but rather the reverse. This has given rise to a
strong prejudice in the minds of persons connected with the leather
trade, against leather tanned by any quick process. The difficulty of
bringing the tannin, or tannic acid, immediately and effectually into
contact with the gelatinous fibre of the skin, arises from several
causes, which it may be useful to enumerate.
“In preparing the skins and hides for the tanpit, they are steeped for a
considerable time in a solution of lime, to remove the hair and
epidermis. In this process, the skin imbibes a considerable quantity of
lime, which has the effect of either removing from the hide or skin, a
portion of the gelatinous substance, in the form of soluble gelatine,
or, of altering the gelatinous fibre, so as to render it incapable of
speedily and effectually combining with the tannin or tannic acid, and
the pores of the skin are so impregnated with lime, as to prevent the
tanning principle from operating freely, or reaching the heart of the
skins.
“The great object to be obtained, therefore, is to find out some means
of removing these obstructions and antagonistic principles, and of
bringing about a speedy and effectual combination of the fibre of the
hides or skins, and the tanning matter, and thus produce in a short
space of time, leather superior in weight, quality, and durability, to
any yet produced. The object of my improvements, is to remove these
difficulties, and obstructions, either by extracting the lime with which
hides and skins are impregnated in the process of removing the hair, or
removing the same without the use of lime, by means not hitherto
attempted.”
The old plan of using lime, by which, no doubt, the skin was injured to
an extent we never before supposed, and the consequent process in the
tanyard, of puring, as it is termed, by means of the dung of animals--a
process the most filthy and disgusting, one would have thought, that
could be imagined--gives way to Dr. Turnbull’s discovery of “_sugar_ and
_sawdust_.” This simple and delicate preparation, we are told, is more
effectual; and “you may drink it,” say the workmen, “for it is fit for
any table in the land.”
The new method is to prepare a mixture of sugar and water, and
sawdust--it may be of any other substance containing saccharine matter,
such as beetroot, potatoes, turneps, honey, &c. The action of the sugar
and pyroxalic, or wood spirit, is so rapid, that the skins are rendered
fit to receive and imbibe the tannic acid; and thus the operation of
tanning is perfectly accomplished in a very short time. The leather thus
produced is considerably heavier, and of finer quality, than any leather
produced by the present method of tanning. This method of removing the
lime is of immense importance, as it not only improves the leather in
weight and durability, but enables the tanner to produce a superior
article in a much less space of time, and at a much less expense, than
heretofore. Attempts have been made to remove the lime by a preparation
called grainer, which is mainly composed of the dung of animals. This
being of a strong alkaline nature, necessarily destroys a considerable
portion of the gelatinous matter, in the operation of extracting the
lime; at the same time much injury is done to the texture of the skin by
its rapid action in causing decomposition, and destroying the grain side
of the skin, especially in summer. It must be obvious, however, that the
moment the skin imbibes lime in any quantity, its effect and influence
on the hide or skin are to a considerable extent permanent and
destructive.
The advantages of the new method appear to be, first, a great additional
weight of leather, especially in calfskins; second, leather of much
better quality, soft and not liable to crack or strain; third, a
considerable diminution in the expense; and fourth, the tanning is
effected in one quarter of the time consumed by the present mode of
tanning.
These improvements will, it is needless to say, prove of immense
importance to our home manufacture, and now that the true principles of
tanning skins comes to be understood, many other improvements will
gradually suggest themselves. The Rouel leather, which is the name given
to it by the doctor, is certainly the best article ever produced in
England (I speak now of calfskin), and works up as fine or even finer
than the French, without its accompaniment of dubbing, or its impost of
30 per cent.
In Queen Elizabeth’s time, parliament busied itself much in matters of
“leather and prunella;” numerous enactments being made, especially in
reference to the former. A letter to lord-treasurer Burleigh, by W.
Fleetwood, recorder of London, explains the opposition of the tanners to
some enactments against them: “the one for lymyng [an old grievance,
after all, this lymyng], the other raisyng.” He says: “All the
excellencie and conning of a tanner consisteth in skilfull making of his
owes [lyes;] surelie they must be many and severall and one stronger
than another. The time of changing of the lether from one owes must be
timed at proscribed hours, or else the lether will be utterly spoiled.
My Lo, there be an infinite number of rules to be observed in tanning,
the few which tanners did ever conceive, much less the parliament, who
conveyed their information of such whome nowe I do by experiens knowe
not to be skilfull.” A conclusion which many of good Queen Victoria’s as
well as Queen Bess’s subject have arrived at, after parliamentary
evidence and enactment, in matters which history, experience, and
philosophy, have long since taught us, flourish _best_ by being _let
alone_.