EARLY ATTEMPTS AT SPINNING, AND EARLY INVENTORS.
There can be no better illustration of the truth of the old saying, that
"Necessity is the mother of invention," than to read the early history
of the cotton manufacture, and the difficulties under which the pioneers
of England's greatest industry laboured.
The middle years of the eighteenth century act as the watershed between
the old and the new in cotton manufacture, for up to 1760 the same type
of machinery was found in England which had existed in India for
centuries. But a change was coming, and as a greater demand arose for
cotton goods, it became absolutely necessary to discover some better way
of manipulating cotton, in order to get off a greater production.
"When inventors fail in their projects, no one pities them; when they
succeed, persecution, envy, and jealousy are their reward." So says
Baines, and it would appear, from reference to the history of the cotton
industry, to be only too true. Certain it is, that the early inventors
of the machinery for improving cotton spinning did not reap the
advantages which their labours and inventions entitled them to. They
ploughed and sowed, but others reaped.
Among the most celebrated of the early inventors, the following stand
out in great prominence--John Kay, Lewis Paul, John Wyatt, Richard
Arkwright, Thomas Highs, James Hargreaves, and Samuel Crompton.
When and how spinning originated no one can say, though it can be traced
back through many, many centuries. Several nations claim to have been
the first to discover the art, but when asked for proof the initial
stages are greatly obscured by impenetrable clouds of mystery.
For example, the Egyptians credit the goddess Isis with the discovery,
the Greeks Minerva, the Chinese the Emperor Yao. It is related of
Hercules, that, when in love with Omphale, he debased himself by taking
the spindle and spinning a thread at her feet. This form of work was
considered to belong only to women, and by spinning for her in this
position he was thought to have greatly humiliated himself.
If Hercules were back again, and could stand between two modern mules
and see the men and boys engaged in spinning hundreds of threads _at
once_, no doubt he would wonder, just as we do to-day at his fabled
feats.
It is not difficult to imagine that very early on in the world's history
the twisting together of strands of wool and cotton would force itself
upon the attention of the ancients. If the reader will take a little
cotton wool in the left hand and by means of the first finger and thumb
of the right take a few cotton fibres and gently twist them together and
at the same time draw the thread formed outwards, it will be seen how
very easy it is (from the nature of the cotton) to form a continuous
thread.
What would very soon suggest itself would be something to which the
thread, when twisted, could be fastened and, according to Mr. Marsden
(who supposes the first spinner to have been a shepherd boy), a twig
which was close at hand would be the very thing to which he could attach
his twisted fibres. He also supposes that, having spun a short length,
the twig by accident was allowed to dangle and immediately to untwist by
spinning round in the reverse way, and ultimately fall to the ground.
He further adds, the boy would argue to himself "that if this revolving
twig could take the twist out by a reversion of its movements, it could
be made to put it in." This would be the first spinning spindle. The
explanation is probably not very far wide of the mark.
A weighted twig or spindle would next be used, and as each length of
spun thread was finished, it would be wound on to the spindle and
fastened.
As it would be extremely awkward to work the fibre up without a proper
supply, a bundle of this was fastened to the end of a stick and carried
most probably under the left arm, leaving the right hand free, or in the
belt, much in the same way as is done in some country districts in the
North of Europe to-day.
The modern name for this stick is _Distaff_, a word which is derived
from the Low German--_diesse_, the bunch of flax on a distaff, and
_staff_. Originally it would be the staff on which the tow or flax was
fastened, and from which the thread was drawn. The modern representative
of the spindle with the twisted thread wound on it is the "_cop_," and
the intermittent actions of first putting _twist_ in the thread and then
_winding_ on the spindle, have their exact counterparts on the latest of
the self-acting mules of to-day.
Image: FIG. 19.--Twist put in cotton by the hand.
It may be interesting to note that St. Distaff's Day is January 7th,
the day after the Epiphany, a church festival celebrated in
commemoration of the visit of the Wise Men of the East to Bethlehem. As
this marks the end of the Christmas festival, work with the distaff was
commenced, hence the name, St. Distaff's Day.
It is also called "Rock Day," rock being another name for distaff.
"Rocking Day" in Scotland was a feasting day when friends and neighbours
met together in the early days of the New Year, to celebrate the end of
the Christmastide festival.
The reign of Henry VII. is said to have witnessed the introduction into
England of the spindle and distaff.
In process of time, the suspended spindle was superseded by one which
was driven by mechanical means. Over and over again, the spindle, as it
lay upon the floor, must have suggested that it could be made to work in
that position, viz., horizontal. And so comes now a contrivance for
holding the spindle in this position.
Mr. Baines, in his history of the cotton manufacture, gives a figure of
an old Hindoo spinning wheel, and it is extremely likely that this very
form of machine was the forerunner of the type which later on found its
way into Europe. At the beginning of the sixteenth century what was
known as the Jersey wheel came into common use. This machine is shown in
Fig. 20.
Lying to the left hand of the woman in the illustration is a hand card.
This consisted of square board with a handle, and was covered by fine
wire driven in, so as to make what was really a wire brush. By means of
this, the spinner was enabled to prepare her cotton, and she did with
it (though not nearly so well) what is done by the Carding Engine of
to-day, viz., fully opened out the fibres of cotton ready for spinning.
Having taken the cotton from the hand cards, she produced at first a
very thick thread which was called a _roving_. This she wound on a
spindle, which was afterwards treated again on the wheel a second time,
and drawn out still more, and then having the twist put in, it was made
much thinner into so-called yarn. Only one thread could by this method
be dealt with at a time by one person, but the main operations carried
out on the old spinning wheel have their exact reproductions on the mule
of to-day, viz.:--Drawing, Twisting and Winding.
Image: FIG. 20.--Jersey spinning wheel (after Baines).
But still the process of evolution went on, and following quickly on
the heels of the Jersey wheel is the Saxony or Leipsic wheel. Here for
the first time is seen the combination of spindle, flyer and bobbin.
This machine was so arranged that by means of two grooved wheels of
different diameters, but both driven by the large wheel similar to the
one in the Jersey wheel, and which was operated by the spinner, two
speeds were obtained. The bobbin was attached to the smaller, and the
spindle, to which was fastened the flyer or "Twister," was driven by the
larger of two wheels.
In this form of spinning machine, then, there were the following
operations performed:--
By the spindle and flyer both revolving at the same velocity, the thread
was attenuated and twisted as it was carried to the bobbin. This latter
was, as already named, driven by the smaller of the two wheels and had a
motion all its own, though much quicker than that of the spindle. In
this way a bobbin of yarn was built up, and the Saxony wheel no doubt
gave many fruitful ideas to the inventors who appeared later on, and
who, by reason of their research and experiment, evolved the fly frames
of to-day; this was notably so in the case of Arkwright.
There had been very great opposition to the introduction of cotton goods
into England by manufacturers and others interested in the wool and
fustian trade, and matters even got so bad that the British Parliament
was foolish enough to actually pass an Act in 1720, prohibiting "the use
or wear in Great Britain, in any garment or apparel whatsoever, of any
printed, painted, stained, or dyed _calico_, under the penalty of
forfeiting to the informer the sum of L5."
Just as though this was not sufficiently severe, it was also enacted
that persons using printed or dyed calico "in or about any bed, chair,
cushion, window-curtain, or any other sort of household stuff or
furniture," would be fined L20, and a like amount was to be paid by
those who sold the stuff.
There can be no doubt whatever, that this Act was designed to strike a
death-blow at the cotton industry, which at this time was beginning to
make itself felt in the commerce of the country. A curious exception
should be mentioned here. Calico, which was all blue, was exempted from
the provisions of this Act, as were also muslins, fustians and
neck-ties. However, in 1736 this iniquitous piece of legislation was
somewhat relaxed, and Parliament was good enough to decree in the year
just named that it would be lawful for anyone to wear "any sort of stuff
made of linen yarn and cotton wool manufactured and printed or painted
with any colour or colours within the kingdom of Great Britain, provided
that the warp thereof be entirely linen yarn."
Now as half a loaf is better than none, the cotton manufacturers
received a direct impulse by the partial removal of the obnoxious
restriction, and very soon the supply was far ahead of the demand.
Manufacturers were crying out constantly for more weight and better
stuff, but how by the mechanical means at the disposal of the spinners
were they to get it? Lancashire historians say that it was no uncommon
thing for weavers to travel miles in search of weft, and then many of
them returned to their looms with only a quarter of the amount they
required.
Another cause which acted in the direction of increasing the demand for
yarns and weft was the invention of the _flying shuttle_ by John Kay
about 1738. Previous to his time, the heavy shuttles containing the
wefts were sent across the looms by two persons. Now, by his new shuttle
he dispensed with the services of one of these artisans, and by means of
his arrangement for quickly sending the shuttle along the lathe of the
loom, much more cloth was produced. Poor Kay suffered much by the cruel
persecution of his countrymen, who ignorantly supposed that in bringing
his new shuttle to such perfection, they would be deprived _permanently_
of their occupations, with nothing but starvation looking them in the
face. Of course, nothing could be wider of the truth than this, but Kay
had to flee his country, and died in poverty and obscurity in a foreign
land. Still the shuttle continued to be used, for the makers of cloth
had learned that increased production meant more work, and possibly
greater profit, and though Kay disappeared, his works remained behind.
The demand for weft grew more and more. It has been said that it is the
occasion which makes the man, and not man the occasion. It was so in
this case, for here was a cry for some mechanical means to be discovered
for satisfying the ever-increasing demand for cotton weft. Hitherto
single threads only had been dealt with on the spinning machines, but
the same year witnessed the introduction of an invention which in a few
years completely revolutionized the spinning industry, and which
enabled one worker to spin hundreds of threads at once.
The year 1738, which witnessed the birth of Kay's invention, also saw
that of Lewis Paul, an artisan of Birmingham. This was a new method of
spinning by means of _Rollers_. It should be remembered that this was
thirty years before Arkwright attempted to obtain letters patent for his
system of spinning by rollers.
Most of the readers of this little book will have seen what is known in
_domestic parlance_ as a clothes-wringer. Here the wooden or rubber
rollers, by means of weights or screws, are made to squeeze out most of
the moisture which remains after the garment has left the washing-tub.
Now if two sets of such rollers could be put together, so that in
section the four centres would coincide with the four angular points of
a square, and the back pair could be made to have a greater surface
velocity than the front pair, this arrangement would give something like
the idea which Paul had in his mind at that time. Why make the back pair
revolve at a greater rate? For this reason, that as the cotton was
supplied to the front pair, and passed on to the second, remembering
that these are going at a greater rate, it follows that the cotton
_would be drawn out_ in passing from the first to the second pair. Had
the rollers been both going at the same speeds, the cotton would pass
out as it went in, unaffected. Now it was this idea which Paul
practically set out in his machine. From some reason or other, Paul's
right to this patent has been often called into question, and up to 1858
it was popularly supposed to have been the sole invention of John Wyatt
of Birmingham. In the year named, Mr. Cole, in a paper read before the
British Association, proved that Paul was the real patentee, and
established the validity of his claim without doubt.
The two distinguishing features of Paul's Spinning Machine were: (1) by
means of the rollers and flyers he performed the operations of
drawing-out and twisting, which had hitherto been done by the fingers
and thumbs of the spinners; and (2) he changed the position of the
spindle itself from the horizontal to the vertical.
A glance at the Transactions of the Society for the Encouragement of
Arts, Manufactures and Commerce, shows that this period (1760-1770) was
most prolific of inventions specially relating to the various sections
of the cotton industry. There were "improved spinning wheels," "a
horizontal spinning wheel," and three other forms of "spinning machines"
submitted to the above society between 1761 and 1767, in the hope of
obtaining money grants in the shape of premiums, which had been offered
to the best inventions for improving spinning machinery in general.
The above list does not however contain any reference to one improvement
by James Hargreaves of Blackburn, Lancashire, to which in this story
special mention must be made.
It appears that in 1764 or 1765 this individual had completed a machine
for spinning eleven threads _simultaneously_; and five years later he
had developed the machine to so perfect a state that he took out a
patent for it, from which time it became known to the industrial world
as a _Spinning Jenny_. His right to the patent has over and over again
been challenged, and it has been alleged that Thomas Highs of Leigh,
also in Lancashire, was the real inventor. Baines, in his "History of
the Cotton Manufacture," is inclined to the view that Hargreaves was the
first to perfect the machine known as the "Jenny" (see Fig. 21).
From whatever point of view Hargreaves' machine is looked at, it must be
acknowledged to be a decided step forward in the direction of spinning
machinery improvement.
The jenny was so unlike Arkwright's frame or Paul's, and preceded that
of the former by some years, that its claim to originality can not be
questioned. How the inventor came to produce his machine can not be
stated, but it is reported that on one occasion he saw a single thread
spinning wheel which had been accidentally knocked over, lying with the
wheel and spindle free and both revolving.
If the reader will think for a minute it will be apparent that the
horizontal position of the spindle would be changed to a vertical one,
and Hargreaves argued if one spindle could revolve in that way, why
should not eight or any number of spindles be made to work at the same
time. How far he successfully worked out that idea will be seen if
reference be made to the illustration of the jenny which is shown in
Fig. 21.
After what has been said under the head of Carding, Drawing, and Roving,
it will easily be understood when it is said that, unlike Arkwright's
Machine, Hargreaves' Jenny could only deal with the cotton when in the
state of _roving_, and it was the roving which this machine attenuated
and twisted or spun into yarn.
If the reader will imagine he or she is standing in front of the jenny,
the following description will be made much clearer:--
Image: FIG. 21.--Hargreaves' spinning jenny (after Baines).
The rovings, which have previously been prepared, are each passed from
the bobbins seen on the lower creel, through a number of grooves on one
of the bars which run across the frame, as seen in the illustration.
These rovings are next passed on to the spindles standing at the back of
the frame and secured to them. A second bar in front of the one over
which the rovings pass, acts as a brake and prevents, when in its proper
position, any more roving being delivered, thus securing all between the
spindles and the said bar. The wheel which is seen on the right of the
jenny communicates with a cylinder by means of a strap or rope, and this
cylinder in turning gives circular motion to the spindles which are
connected with the cylinder by endless bands. On the spindle is the
wharf, specially formed to allow the band to run without slipping.
The operations for a complete spinning of one delivery is described by
Baines as follows:--
"A certain portion of roving being extended from the spindles to the
wooden clasp, the clasp was closed, and was then drawn along the
horizontal frame to a considerable distance from the spindles, by which
the threads were lengthened out, and reduced to the proper tenuity; this
was done with the spinner's left hand, and his right hand at the same
time turned a wheel which caused the spindles to revolve rapidly, and
thus the roving was spun into yarn. By returning the clasp to its first
situation, and letting down a presser wire, the yarn was wound on the
spindle."
Hatred and jealousy were immediately born when Hargreaves' splendid
improvement became known, and, like poor Kay before him, he had to leave
his native soil and get to some more secluded spot. He ultimately
arrived in Nottingham, set at once to accommodate himself to his new
environment, and soon entered into partnership with a Mr. James, and in
1770 took out a patent for his Jenny. In conjunction with his new
partner, a mill was built, said to be one of the first, if not the
first, spinning mill so called in this country.
Though it is stated by Arkwright that Hargreaves died in comparative
obscurity and poverty, others say that this is not so; though he was not
wealthy the evidence is sufficiently good to believe that he died in
moderate circumstances.
The register of St. Mary's Parish, Nottingham, contains the following
entry:--"1778, April 22, James Hargraves."