Part 4

We have said the women in the "pulling-room" cut, tear, or pull out the long, coarse hairs from the pelts, and that these hairs are useless to the hatter. But it is impossible completely to separate the coarse from the fine fur by these means, and therefore the fur, when cropped from the pelt, is conveyed to the "blowing-room," finally to effect the separation. The action of the blowing machine is exceedingly beautiful, and may perhaps be understood without a minute detail of its mechanism. A quantity of beaver or any other fur is introduced at one end near a compartment in which a vane or fly is revolving with a velocity of nearly two thousand rotations in a minute. We all know, even from a simple example of a lady's fan, that a body in motion gives rise to a wind or draught, and when the motion is so rapid as is here indicated, the current becomes very powerful. This current of air propels the fur along a hollow trunk to the other end of the machine, and in so doing produces an effect which is as remarkable as valuable. All the coarse and comparatively valueless fur is deposited on a cloth stretched along the trunk, while the more delicate filaments are blown into a receptacle at the other end. Nothing but a very ingenious arrangement of mechanism could produce a separation so complete as is here effected; but the principle of action is not hard to understand. If there were no atmosphere, or if an inclosed place were exhausted of air, a guinea and a feather, however unequal in weight, would fall to the ground with equal velocity, but in ordinary circumstances the guinea would obviously fall more quickly than the feather, because the resistance of the air bears a much larger ratio to the weight of the feather than that of the guinea. As the resistance of air to a moving body acts more forcibly on a light than a heavy substance, so likewise does air when in motion and acting as a moving force. When particles of sand or gravel are driven by the wind, the lightest particles go the greatest distance. So it is with the two kinds of fur in the "blowing machine," those fibers which are finest and lightest are driven to the remote end of the machine.

The "body," or "foundation," of a good beaver hat is generally made of eight parts rabbit's fur, three parts Saxony wool, and one part of llama, vicunia, or "red" wool. A sufficient quantity of these for one hat (about two and a half ounces) is weighed out and placed in the hands of the "bower." On entering the "bowing-room" a peculiar twanging noise indicates to the visitor that a stretched cord is in rapid vibration, and the management of this cord by the workman is seen to be one of the many operations in hatting wherein success depends exclusively on skillful manipulation. A bench extends along the front of the room beneath a range of windows, and each "bower" has a little compartment appropriated to himself. The bow is an ashen staff from five to seven feet in length, having a strong cord of catgut stretched over bridges at the two ends. The bow is suspended in the middle by a string from the ceiling, whereby it hangs nearly on a level with the work-bench, and the workman thus proceeds: The wool and coarse fur, first separately and afterwards together, are laid on the bench, and the bower, grasping the staff of the bow with his left hand and plucking the cord with his right hand by means of a small piece of wood, causes the cord to vibrate rapidly against the fur and wool. By repeating this process for a certain time, all the original clots or assemblages of filaments are perfectly opened and dilated, and the fibers, flying upwards when struck, are, by the dexterity of the workman, made to fall in nearly equal thickness on the bench, presenting a very light and soft layer of material. Simple as this operation appears to a stranger, years of practice are required for the attainment of proficiency in it.

The bowed materials for one hat are divided into two portions, each of which is separately pressed with a light wicker frame; the light mass of fluffy fur, after being pressed with the frame, is covered with a wet cloth, over which is placed a piece of oil-cloth or leather called a "hardening skin," until, by the pressure of the hands backwards and forwards all over the skin, the fibers are brought closer together, the points of contact multiplied, the serrations made to link together, and a slightly coherent fabric formed. These two halves, or "batts," are then formed into a hollow cap by a singular contrivance. One of the "batts," nearly triangular in shape, and measuring about half a yard in each direction, being laid flat, a triangular piece of paper, smaller in size than the batt, is laid upon it, and the edges of the batt, being folded over the paper, meet at the upper surface, and thus form a complete envelope to the paper. The two meeting edges are soon made to combine by gentle pressure and friction, and another "batt" is laid on the other in a similar way, but having the meeting edges on the opposite side of the paper. The double layer, with the enclosed paper, are then folded up in a damp cloth and worked by hand; the workman pressing and bending, rolling and unrolling, until the fibers of the inner layer are incorporated with those of the outer. It is evident that were there not a piece of paper interposed, the whole of the fibers would be worked together into a mass by the opposite sides felting together, but the paper maintains a vacancy within, and when withdrawn at the edge which is to form the opening of the cap, it leaves the felted material in such a form as to constitute, when stretched open, a hollow cone.

The "battery" is a large kettle or boiler open at the top, having a fire beneath it, and eight planks ascending obliquely from the margin, so as to form a sort of octagonal work-bench, five or six feet in diameter, at which eight men may work; the planks are made of lead near the kettle, and of mahogany at the outer part, and at each plank a workman operates on a conical cap until the process of felting or "planking" is completed. The "battery" contains hot water slightly acidulated with sulphuric acid. The cap is dipped into the hot liquor, laid on one of the planks, and subjected to a long felting process; it is rolled and unrolled, twisted, pressed, and rubbed with a piece of leather or wood tied to the workman's hand, and rolled with a rolling-pin. From time to time the cap is examined, to ascertain whether the thickness is sufficient in every part, and if any defective places appear, they are wet with a brush dipped in the hot liquor, and a few additional fibers are worked in. Considerable skill is required in order to preserve such an additional thickness of material at one part as shall suffice for the brim of the hat. When this felting process has been continued about two hours, it is found that the heat, moisture, pressure and friction have reduced the cap to one-half its former dimensions, the thickness being increased in a proportionate degree, assuming a conical shape.

The "cap" is then taken to the "water-proofing" or "stiffening" room, where the odor of gum, resins and spirits gives some intimation of the materials employed. Gum-lac, gum-sandrach, gum-mastic, resin, frankincense, copal, caoutchouc, spirits of wine and spirits of turpentine, are the ingredients (all of a very inflammable nature) of which the water-proofing is made. This is laid on the cap by means of a brush, and the workman exercises his skill in regulating the quantity at different parts, since the strength of the future brim and crown depends much on this process.

After another heating in a hot room, called "stoving," by which the spirit is evaporated, the exterior of the cap is scoured with a weak alkali, to remove a portion of the gummy coating, and thereby enable the beaver fur with which it is to be "napped" or "coated," to adhere.

A layer of beaver fur is spread, and, by means of the "hardening stick," is pressed and worked into a very delicate and light felt, just coherent enough to hold together. This layer, which is called a "ruffing" or "roughing," is a little larger than the cap-body, and to unite the two, another visit to the "battery" is necessary. The cap being softened by immersion in the hot liquor, the "ruffing" is laid on it, and patted down with a wet brush, a narrow strip of beaver being laid round the inside of the cap to form the underside of the future brim. The beavered cap is then wrapped in a woolen cloth, immersed frequently in the hot liquor, and rolled on the plank for the space of two hours. The effect of this rubbing and rolling is very curious, and may be illustrated in a simple manner: if a few fibers of beaver fur be laid on a piece of broadcloth, covered with tissue paper, and rubbed gently with the finger, they will penetrate through the cloth and appear on the opposite side. So, likewise, in the process of "ruffing," each fiber is set in motion from root to point, and enters the substance of the felt cap. The hairs proceed in a pretty straight course, and just enter the felt, with the substance of which they form an intimate union. But if the rolling and pressing were continued too long, the hairs would actually pass through the felt, and be seen on the inside instead of the outside of the cap; the workman therefore exercises his judgment in continuing the process only so long as is sufficient to secure the hairs in the felt firm enough to bear the action of the hat-brush in after-days.

At length the cap is to assume somewhat the shape of a hat, before it finally leaves the "battery." The workman first turns up the edge of the cap to the depth of about an inch and a half; and then draws the peak of the cap back through the centre or axis so far as not to take out the first fold, but to produce an inner fold of the same depth. The point being turned back again, produces a third fold, and thus the workman proceeds, till the whole hat has acquired the appearance of a flattish circular piece, consisting of a number of concentric folds or rings, with the peak in the centre. This is laid on the "plank," where the workman, keeping the substance hot and wet, pulls, presses and rubs the centre until he has formed a smooth flat portion equal to the intended crown of the hat. He then takes a cylindrical block, on the flat end of which he applies the flattened central portion of the felt, and by holding a string down the curved sides of the block, he causes the surrounding portion of the felt to assume the figure of the block. The part which is to form the brim now appears a puckered appendage round the edge of the hat; but this puckered edge is soon brought to a tolerably flat shape by pulling and pressing.

The workman then raises and opens the nap of the hat by means of a peculiar sort of comb, and then shears the hairs to a regular length. Connoisseurs in these matters are learned as to the respective merits of "short naps" and "long naps," and by the shearer's dexterity these are regulated. The visitor recognizes nothing difficult in this operation, yet years of practice are necessary for the attainment of skill therein, since the workman determines the length of the nap by the peculiar position in which the long, light shears are held. A nap or pile as fine as that of velvet can be produced by this operation.

However carefully the process of "blowing" may be performed in order to separate the coarse fibers of the fur from the more delicate, there are always a few of the former left mingled with the latter, and these are worked up during the subsequent processes. Women are employed, therefore, after the hats have left the "finishers," in picking out with small tweezers such defective fibers as may present themselves on the surface of the hats.

Lastly, the hat is placed in the hands of a workman whose employment requires an accurate eye and a fertile taste in matters of shape and form: this is the "shaper." He has to study the style and fashion of the day, as well as the wishes of individual purchasers, by giving to the brim of the hat such curvatures in various directions as may be needed. Simple as this may appear, the workman who possesses the requisite skill to give the acceptable curl to the brim which is to create the finishing touch for the hat is a desirable hand, and can command a high rate of wages.

Thus, in our imaginary tour through an old-fashioned hat factory, we have seen the many skillful manipulations then required to make a hat, which, when compared with modern processes, awaken in our minds a sense of wonder at the change.

JOHN PETTICORD.

No. 10.

The subject of this article, who died in Baltimore, October 11th, 1887, in the 92d year of his age, was probably the oldest hatter in the United States. His identity with Baltimore hatting all the days of his life made him prominent in connection with that industry. Born but a few years after the thirteen states had by compact formed a republic, Washington being President of the United States, Mr. Petticord lived to see in office every President down to that of President Cleveland.

When he was a young man of business, savages roamed and tented where beautiful and populous cities with all the advantages of refinement and art now exist.

During his lifetime the population of his own city changed from 25,000 to 400,000, and the United States extended its area of territory from the limits of the thirteen original states, which was 367,000 square miles, to upwards of 3,000,000, increasing its population from 5,000,000 to 60,000,000.

When John Petticord first made hats, the "Cocked" or "Continental" style was in vogue. No more curious museum could be collected than specimens of the various freaks of fashion in hats that appeared during the lifetime of this old hatter.

John Petticord was born in Baltimore in 1796. At an early age he was apprenticed to John Amos to learn the trade of hatting; soon after finishing his service of apprenticeship, he secured work in the establishment of Jacob Rogers. He was faithful to his duties, serving his master with that same conscientiousness that he would have done for himself, soon becoming foreman of Mr. Rogers' extensive factory. After serving with Mr. Rogers for some years, he entered into business as a manufacturer on his own account, and continued until feebleness of age compelled him to abandon it. He was a man of quiet, simple habits, his chief ambition being to lead an upright life, and appear before God and his fellow-creatures an honest man.

John Petticord was exemplary in character and habits, modest and gentle in his disposition, pure in his faith and in his living; he had no enemies, and was always known as a reliable man. During his long career as foreman or master of the shop, he never had a quarrel or a serious difficulty with the many who came under his control. He never drank intoxicating beverages, although in his early days that was the general custom, which, with hatters, was unfortunately the universal habit. His manliness and strength of character were also well displayed by his never chewing or smoking tobacco. He was patient and methodical, an indefatigable worker at his trade, believing that undivided attention to his work was a duty he owed to others.

John Petticord was a patriot, being one of that noble band who fearlessly stood and successfully resisted the British attack upon Baltimore in 1814. At that time he was a youth of nineteen working at his trade. At noon-time on the eventful September 12th, 1814, the "tocsin" was sounded to call to arms every able-bodied citizen to defend his home and fireside, and, if possible, prevent the destruction of their beautiful city. At the first sound of the cannon, which was the signal agreed upon, John Petticord left his unfinished noonday meal, seized his musket, and was one of the first to join the ranks of his company. The day was desperately hot, and a forced march of two miles to the battlefield brought them, dusty, tired and thirsty, face to face with the enemy, who was in a fresh condition and eager for fight. Petticord's canteen, as all others, by regulation orders, was filled with whiskey, but he, being a temperance man, would not assuage his thirst with grog. Famishing for water, he obtained permission from his superior officer to go a short distance away, where a "squatter" was dispensing cider for the comfort of the soldiers and profit to himself. Petticord, emptying his canteen of whiskey on the ground, had it filled with hard cider, and quenched his thirst with a good round drink. That hard cider, together with heat and exhaustion, came about as near ending the earthly career of John Petticord as did the storm of enemy's bullets which whizzed about his head. On that trying day the bravery of this man was well tested. He stood manfully in position while his comrade on the right fell dead at his feet, and the one on his left was removed wounded from the battlefield, he himself receiving a slight wound on the finger. The riderless white horse of the British General Ross, who had just been killed, pranced by in front of the rank in which Mr. Petticord was stationed, and the hearts of himself and comrades beat lightly with hope of success, as the shouts of the Americans echoed along the line, announced the death of the invaders' great leader, encouraging a grand rally that gave them the victory of the day. Mr. Petticord, though a brave soldier in the time of his country's need, was a man of peace, and, upon the ending of hostilities with Great Britain, resigned his position in the eighth company of the 27th Regiment of Maryland militia.

Baltimore always honors her noble band of brave defenders, and upon each anniversary of the 12th of September a public celebration is given, and the Old Defenders occupy the post of honor. It is but a few years since they marched with lively and steady step to martial music; later on, age required their appearing in carriages in the procession, and each year, at the annual dinner given by the city, their number has grown less and less.

The present year but three were on earth to answer to the "roll call," and but one able to appear at the banquet. Who can realize the sad feelings of the _last_ of such a noble band? Feeble Old Age, with its infirmities, mindful of its duty, sat perhaps for the last time around the banquet board, where, with friends and comrades, he before had enjoyed happy and jovial times, his spirits were cheered and the occasion made as pleasant as possible, by the presence of many of Baltimore's honored citizens; but not to see a single face of the many with whom during the seventy-five long years he had kept up a pleasant association, is an experience others cannot imagine.

With Mr. Petticord's death, but two[1] are left of that noble band who so bravely protected our rights and fought for and firmly secured that liberty and freedom we of the present day are enjoying.

[1] This article was written in 1887, since when these two have passed on.

MIDDLE OF THE CENTURY.

No. 11.

Baltimore hat-manufacturing interests at the middle of the century suffered greatly by comparison with those of an earlier period. That which had been a prominent industry, engaged in by active, enterprising men, and extending steadily and widely, keeping pace with the growth of the country, and giving encouragement to the continued employment of skilled labor, was at the middle of this century gradually falling off in volume and importance, and continued to decline until what was once a thriving and prosperous industry of the city, became one almost of insignificance.

In the government census of 1810, the statistics regarding hat manufacturing place Maryland as leading in the manufacture of fur hats. While Connecticut, New York, New Jersey and Pennsylvania gained rapidly, still this business in Baltimore continued to increase and grow, until during the period from 1825 to 1850 it reached the height of its prosperity.

Before the year 1850 the once prominent concern of James Cox & Sons had retired from the hat-manufacturing business, and the oldest and wealthiest firm was contemplating liquidation, as Messrs. George and William Rogers, of the firm of Jacob Rogers & Sons, had decided to discontinue the business left by their father, choosing to follow other occupations. The retirement of these two firms, so long and closely identified with the mercantile and manufacturing industries of Baltimore, which had successfully contributed by their faithful business labors to its growth and prosperity, was a serious blow to the interests of the city. This change left in the field but one important firm who had been their contemporary--Cole, Craft & Co.--of which the late Wm. P. Cole was the active business partner. This firm followed in succession the business established in 1814 by Runyon Harris, and was the predecessor of the present firm of Brigham, Hopkins & Co.

Much speculation might be indulged in as to the real cause of the decline and loss to Baltimore of so important an industry, but the plain facts force but one conviction; namely, the unwillingness of these successful old manufacturers to adopt newer methods of hat making, leading to such reduction in cost, through improvements, as to preclude the chance of their successful competition with those of more progressive ideas.

While Baltimore hat makers clung tenaciously to the old ways, whereby labor and expense were incurred unnecessarily, those at the North were readily adopting the various new methods by which improvements in the art of hat making were constantly being made; thus, with the use of newly invented machinery, the cost of making hats was greatly lessened, and the Northern manufacturer constantly gained in competition with those of Baltimore.

The invention of the Wells _Forming Machine_ added largely to the misfortune of this business. An expensive machine, with a comparatively tremendous production, required a large market as an output; a heavy royalty also was attached to it, and the business of Baltimore at that time appeared not to be in condition to justify its introduction. Though the machine was invented in 1841, it was not until the year 1852 that the venture was made to introduce into Baltimore the Wells _Hat-body Forming Machine_. With the pecuniary assistance of Wm. P. Cole, Messrs. Bailey & Mead, in 1852, commenced hat forming by machinery, the "mill" being located on Holliday street, and afterwards removed to Front street (present number 320).

From failure of support, caused by inability to revive the depressed condition of the hat business, the venture of Messrs. Bailey & Mead was not successful, and Mr. Mead retiring from the firm, the business was continued by Messrs. Bailey, Craft & Co., mainly in the interest of Mr. Cole's factory, until about 1869, when hat forming by machinery in Baltimore was entirely abandoned, followed with the retirement of Mr. Cole from the manufacturing business.