THE COTTON-FACTORY OF TO-DAY.
God has not gone to some distant star;
He’s in the mill where the toilers are.
ANNA J. GRANNIS.
I should not feel that the whole purpose of this book had been
fulfilled unless I added a word in behalf of the factory population of
to-day.
It will probably be said that the life I have described cannot be
repeated, and that the modern factory operative is not capable of such
development. If this is a fact, there must be some reason for it.
The factory of to-day might and ought to be as much of a school to
those who work there as was the factory of fifty or sixty years ago.
If the mental status of these modern operatives is different, then
the opportunities of development should be adapted correspondingly to
their needs. The same results, perhaps, cannot be reached, because the
children of New England ancestry had inherited germs of intellectual
life. But is it not also possible that the children of the land of
Dante, of Thomas Moore, of Racine, and of Goethe may be something
more than mere clods? I do not despair of any class of artisans or
operatives, because I believe that there is in them all some germ of
mental vigor, some higher idea of living, waiting for a chance to grow;
and the same encouragement on the part of employers, the same desire to
lift them to a higher level, would soon show of what the present class
of operatives is capable.
What these poor people need is time, and a great deal of help, before
it can be decided what either they or their descendants can make of
themselves. Before an infallible decision can be given, there must be,
perhaps, two or three generations of growth under free institutions,
and under employers who think of something besides coining the bodies
and souls of their employees into dollars and cents.
No one can grow mentally, who has not time to read or to think, and
whose life is a constant struggle to get enough food and clothing for
himself and his family. Our working-people have their intellectual
freedom, as well as the wage-question, to fight for, just as the
ancestors of the early factory-operatives fought for their social
and constitutional liberty. They will carry on the warfare in their
own way; and if employers are wise they will try to do something
practical to prevent strikes, riots, and labor-unions, which are the
working-man’s weapons of defence, and so to “lock the door before the
horse is stolen.”
Not long ago I was invited to speak to a company of the Lowell
mill-girls, and to tell them something about my early life as a member
of the guild. I was doubly willing to do this, as I was desirous of
forming some estimate of the status of these successors of the early
mill-girls.
About two hundred of them assembled in the pleasant parlors of the
People’s Club, and listened attentively to my story. When it was over,
a few of them gathered around, and asked me many questions. In turn I
questioned them,--about their work, their hours of labor, their wages,
and their means of improvement. When I urged them to occupy their spare
time in reading and study, they seemed to understand the necessity of
it, but answered sadly: “We will try; but we work so hard, we tend so
much machinery, and we are so tired.” It was plainly to be seen that
these operatives did not go to their labor with the jubilant feeling
that the old mill-girls used to have; that their work was drudgery,
done without aim and purpose; that they took little interest in it
beyond the thought that it was the means of earning their daily bread.
There was a tired hopelessness about them that I am sure was not often
seen among the early mill-girls, and they had an underfed, prematurely
old look.
The hours of labor are now less, it is true; but the operatives are
obliged to do a far greater amount of work in a given time. They tend
so many looms and frames that they have no time to think. They are
always on the jump; and so have no opportunity to improve themselves.
They are too weary to read good books, and too overworked to digest
what they have read. The souls of many of these mill-girls seemed
starved, and looked from their hungry eyes as if searching for mental
food.
Why are they not fed? The means of education are not wanting. Public
libraries are provided, and they have more leisure to read than the
mill-girls of forty years ago. But they do not seem to know how to
improve it. Their leisure only gives them the more time to be idle
in; more time to waste in the streets, or in reading cheap novels and
stories. It might almost be said that they are worse off than if they
had longer hours, or did not know how to read, unless they can use
to better advantage their extra time, or have the means of suitable
education provided for them.
Let it not be understood that I would take from the operative or the
artisan one of the chances of education. But I would have them taught
how to use wisely those privileges, forced, we might almost say, on
them and on their children. I would also have them taught how inwardly
to digest what they are made to learn. The tools are given them; but
as they are not taught how to use them, these prove but an additional
weapon of defence against employers, and make them more discontented,
and ready to listen to the political demagogue, or the so-called labor
reformer. Then strikes ensue, which usually end, as the first Lowell
one did, for the time being at least, in the success of the employer,
rather than of the employee.
The solution of the labor problem is not in strikes, but, as another
has said, in “bringing the question down to its simplest form, a
practical carrying out of the golden rule; by the employer elevating
the working-man in his own esteem by fair dealing, courteous treatment,
and a constant appeal to his better side; and, on the other hand, in
the working-man himself by the absence of malingering, by honest work,
and a desire to further his employer’s interests; and finally, to
cement the two, a fair distribution of profits.” “Not what we give, but
what we share,” is a good motto for the employers. Treat your employees
as _you_ would be treated, if, by the “accident of birth,” loss of
employment, or hard luck, _you_ were in their condition. Treat them as
if they, too, had something of God in them, and, like yourselves, were
also His children. This is the philosophy of the labor question.
The factory population of New England is made up largely of
American-born children of foreign parentage,--two-thirds it is
estimated; as a rule, they are not under the strict control of the
church of their parents, and they are too apt to adopt the vices and
follies, rather than the good habits, of our people. It is vital to
the interests of the whole community, that they should be kept under
good moral influences; that they should have the sympathy, the help,
of employers. They need better homes than they find in too many of our
factory towns and cities, and a better social atmosphere, that they may
be lifted out of their mental squalor into a higher state of thought
and of feeling.
The modern system of overcrowding the mill-people is to be especially
deprecated. In the old time, not more than two or three beds were put
into one large bedroom, which was used only as a bedroom; but not long
ago, according to an article in the _Springfield Republican_ on “How
Mill-People Live,” it appears that Mr. H. R. Walker, agent of the
Chicopee Board of Health, in his official report to the board, states
that he found “twelve persons living and sleeping in a suite of two
rooms, and sixteen persons living and sleeping in a tenement of four
rooms.” And in another block, owned by a “wealthy gentleman in that
city,” he found that “thirty-eight rooms were occupied by ninety-seven
men, women, and children.” Under such conditions, how can young people
be brought up virtuously?
These are examples of overcrowding which I hope are not followed to
any extent by the better class of manufacturing corporations; although
there is reason to fear that overcrowding is getting to be the rule,
rather than the exception.
The cotton-factories themselves are not so agreeable nor so healthful
to work in as they used to be. Once they were light, well ventilated,
and moderately heated; each factory-building stood detached, with
pleasant sunlit windows, cheerful views, and fresh air from all points
of the compass. But these buildings are now usually made into a solid
mass by connecting “annexes,” and often form a hollow square, so that
at least one-half of the operatives can have no outlook except upon
brick walls, and no fresh air but that which circulates within this
confined space.
A year or two ago I revisited the dressing-room where I used to work,
and found the heat so intense that I could hardly breathe; and the
men who were working there (there were no women in the room) wore the
scantiest of clothing, and were covered with perspiration.
The drying of the beams is done by hot air, though sometimes fans
are added; the windows and doors are kept shut, except in very fine
weather; and this makes an atmosphere unfit to breathe. My old
overseer, who had had charge of one room for over forty years, told me
that some time ago he had been obliged to change his occupation in the
mill on account of the intense heat consequent on the introduction of
this new method of drying the beams.
Nor are the houses kept clean and in repair as they used to be. In
Lowell, when I last walked among the “blocks” where I lived as a child,
I found them in a most dilapidated condition,--houses going to decay,
broken sidewalks, and filthy streets; and contrasting their appearance
with that of the “corporation” as I remember it, I felt as if I were
revisiting the ruins of an industry once clean and prosperous. Would
that I could say one word that would lead stockholders to see that it
is not from out of such surroundings that the best dividends can be
secured!
To one who has watched with sad interest the gradual decline of
the cotton-factory industry in New England, and has marked the
deterioration of its operatives, it has often seemed as if something
might be done to restore this great factor in our national prosperity
to its early influence and importance. Many schemes have been advanced
by political economists, but, thus far, they have borne no fruit, and
at this present writing, the Massachusetts Legislature itself has
placed the whole subject in the hands of the Committee on Labor, who
are to report on the several items submitted to its decision. While
I would not venture here to discuss the various points on which this
committee is to report, I cannot forbear calling attention to the first
section, which relates to the “Dingley Tariff.”
This section enquires, substantially, whether the Dingley tariff has
had any influence in producing the present stagnation of the New
England cotton industry. As a help to the solution of this question, or
a suggestion at least, I will venture to quote from an article in the
report of the Massachusetts Bureau of Statistics of Labor, on “The Age
of Factory Establishments,” where it is stated that “Quite one-half of
the whole product of the State is made by manufactories which were in
existence before 1860, and most of these establishments were founded
in the industrial period following the beginning of the reduction of
the tariff of 1828; and it can be said, with truth, that the great
manufacturing industry of Massachusetts was planted in low-tariff
times.”
If this statement is correct, of which there can be no doubt, it has
a significance worthy of attention, when we see the downward movement
of the cotton industry under the present high-tariff. It was these
“low-tariff times” that enabled working-people to buy goods that would
last, which they cannot do in these days of “home production” shoddy,
protected, as it is, by the Dingley tariff. And, without entering into
the discussion, it would seem that a low tariff is certainly desirable
for working-people, at least, since it enables them to get the best
there is for their money, whether it be of foreign or domestic
manufacture. An able writer has said: “The great trouble with the New
England mills now is, that the people want a better class of goods
which can compete with other textile products.” This is certainly true,
as applied to the buyer. A person of limited means can better afford to
buy goods of foreign manufacture, no matter how high the tariff is. For
woollens we look to England; for silks, to Lyons or Zurich; and lighter
material must be of French manufacture. And the dealer says to you,
as the best recommendation for the goods you wish to purchase, “It is
_English_, or it is _French_ goods, that I am showing you.”
As for cheap American prints, who prefers to buy them nowadays?
Certainly no woman who remembers with affection the good, pretty,
durable, and _washable_ old Merrimack print,--the old-time calico,
that, when partly worn out, would still do for gowns and “tiers”
for the children, or for comforters for the family beds. Gentlemen!
mill-owners and managers! give us as good material as that we can buy
of English and French manufacture, and we will wear no more dress-goods
that are not of “home production,” and will cheerfully pay you whatever
price you may ask for them. This can certainly be done, with all your
inventive genius, and you need no longer fear either foreign or
Southern competition.
One more suggestion. It has often seemed that one great cause of the
decline of the cotton industry is to be found in the change in the
character of the operatives themselves. But could not some inducement
be offered to call to this industry a better class of operatives, or to
elevate a part of them towards the status of the old-time mill-girls?
The factory-operatives of to-day are more like those of England, whom
I have described, when the cotton manufacture first began in America.
Then, mill-owners and stockholders knew that the daughters of New
England would not become mill-girls under existing conditions, and
unless they were sure of good wages and of being treated like human
beings. This assurance was given; and the consequence was that they
flocked from their homes, and so helped to build up an industry that
was to give the first great impetus to the coming prosperity of the
whole country. Could not this experiment be tried anew? There must
be--there are--thousands of young women, all over New England, working
for almost a pittance in stores and workshops, some of them twelve
hours a day, subject to temptations that would never reach them in the
cotton-factory,--women and girls who have no homes, who would gladly
go to the factories, if a comfortable home, short hours, sure work, and
steady wages were assured to them. Let the best of them work by the
job or piece, as far as possible; for this shows, more than any other
“reform in labor,” where the best class of operatives can be found, and
the best result of their work can be secured. Why not try these or some
better experiments, and so uplift gradually the status of the modern
factory-operative?
These suggestions regarding a better class of goods and a better class
of operatives, if carried out, will involve sacrifice for a time on
the part of the mill-owners and stockholders. But it is certainly
better to sacrifice even a great deal than it is to lose all; and
there seems to be danger of this if something radical and far-reaching
cannot soon be done to improve the present condition of our New England
cotton-factories and their operatives.
It is claimed that the factory is not a “philanthropic institution,”
and that corporations are not responsible for the well-being of those
they employ. But until Boards of Health and Factory Inspectors can
succeed in reforming the abuses which exist among the mill-people, who
but the corporation ought to be held responsible for the unwholesome
surroundings and the hard life which is undermining the vitality and
poisoning the blood of so large a portion of our working-people?
“Labor is worship,” says the poet. Labor is _education_, is the
teaching of the wise political economist. If factory-labor is not
a means of education to the operative of to-day, it is because the
employer does not do his duty. It is because he treats his work-people
like machines, and forgets that they are struggling, hoping, despairing
human beings. It is because, as he becomes rich, he cares less and less
for the well-being of his poor, and, beyond paying them their weekly
wages, has no thought of their wants or their needs.
The manufacturing corporation, except in comparatively few instances,
no longer represents a protecting care, a parental influence, over its
operatives. It is too often a soulless organization; and its members
forget that they are morally responsible for the souls and bodies, as
well as for the wages, of those whose labor is the source of their
wealth. Is it not time that more of these Christian men and women, who
gather their riches from the factories of the country, should begin to
reflect that they do not discharge their whole duty to their employees
when they see that the monthly wages are paid; that they are also
responsible for the unlovely surroundings, for the barren and hopeless
lives, and for the moral and physical deterioration of them and their
children?
The cotton-factory gave the first impetus towards uplifting the social
status of the working-men and the working-women of New England, if not
of the whole country. It should not be a cause of its decadence, as it
certainly is in danger of becoming unless corporations can be induced
to seriously consider whether it is better to degrade those who work
for them to a level with the same class in foreign countries, or, to
mix a little conscience with their capital, and so try to bring back,
into the life of the factory-operative of to-day, this “lost Eden”
which I have tried to describe.
Transcriber’s Note
Illustrations have been moved to be near the text they illustrate.
Variant spelling, and inconsistent hyphenation have been retained.
The one apparently mispelt word that has been changed is on page 12,
where “imigrants” has been changed to “immigrants”.
Quotation marks are not used consistently, they have mainly been left
as printed, with the exception of:
Page 73 - the closing quotation mark has been removed from the end of
the paragraph before the signature of the honorable discharge;
Page 106 - a closing quotation mark has been added after “Lowell,
_Nov. 25, 1843_”;
Page 129 - the closing quotation mark has been removed from the very
end of the letter;
Page 193 - an opening quotation mark has been added at the start of
Miss Averill’s letter;
Punctuation in the Table of Contents has been made consistent.
Occasionally a character did not print completely, or a word was
duplicated across the end of a printed line. These have been corrected
silently.
The copy of the book from which is transcribed here was the author’s
own. It is unclear whether the captions handwritten on the photographs
were printed in the book or handwritten later by the author.