CHAPTER III

THE WORLD OF THE SPINNERS AND WEAVERS

“Now when we cross this bridge, look north and you will see the soul of our city symbolized in brick and mortar.” These were the words of a business man who had taken an afternoon off and was showing his friend the wonders of a New England city that had grown up about the textile industry. The soul of the city, as he thought of it, lived in the huge mills lining the banks of the canal which runs through the city. When his friend looked, he saw more than the mills. He saw a road beside the canal paved with cobblestones and, on the other side, the company houses overshadowed by the mills and factories. The towers and huge smokestacks threw shadows that completely covered the houses where many of the workers lived.

So thoroughly is this city dependent upon the mills and their output that a brilliant writer in a recent work of fiction said of it, that if there were bridges and a portcullis you could easily think of their being raised to protect the mills against an invasion from the workers; just as in medieval times the feudal castles were protected by the moat and bridge. The bells in the many towers and the siren whistles of the mills call the people from sleep in the morning, telling them when to begin work and when to quit. Within the mills are long lines of machines set in parallel rows down which the workers easily pass. Each worker tends eight to twenty machines. Here is a broken thread to be tied, and there a new pattern to be set up. The clatter and roar of the machinery is unceasing. It is a part of the composite voice of labor that is sounding around the world. As the shuttles fly the finished fabric is rolled up ready for inspection, and, when passed, goes to the market, and later is made into garments.

It is a huge task to clothe the modern world. No one realizes how much it means until he looks into the work of the textile-mills which have grown up in our own and in other countries. Cities like Lawrence, Lowell, and Fall River, Massachusetts, are what they are because of their great factories. In these places they produce miles of cloth every week.

=Men and Clothes.= Of all the animals in the world man is the only one that provides himself with artificial covering. All the others have perfectly fitting coats provided by nature, and these coats are adapted to the conditions under which the individual animal is forced to live. Man calls in the help of plant and animal life to supply himself with clothing for his protection against the cold of winter and the heat of summer. He also uses clothing as an adornment. We have come to consider clothing as a badge of civilization and a mark of man’s superiority to all the other animals. Those races that pay the least attention to clothing are the lowest in the scale of civilization. Such races are found in South America, in Central Africa, and on some of the islands of the South Seas. There is scarcely a trace of civilization to be found among them. They have a kind of community life, but they live in a most primitive fashion. Their food consists chiefly of roots, plants, fish, and game which can be easily secured. They have rude shelters or crude huts; wear very little clothing; and their religion is a belief in witches and evil spirits. Where they have idols they are of the most hideous workmanship, representing in a most grotesque way bad influences and vicious passions.

=The Materials.= The first clothing man wore was made from the skins of animals and from the bark of trees. Later on it was learned that wool could be spun, and that by using crude needles cloth could be sewed together. Wool, silk, cotton, linen, paper, and many others materials have come into common use. All of these are produced by groups of people of whose working conditions we are in ignorance and whose very existence is unknown to most of us. Among civilized people the use of wool has grown to such an extent that the sheep-raising industry has become one of the biggest businesses in all sections of America. The sheep-herder lives a lonely life and yet rarely complains, and is never happier than when out in the fields with his charges. At shearing time the sheep are brought into a shed, and after a few futile struggles in an effort to escape the process, they sit quietly head up while the fleece is taken from them. When they go into the shed they are grimy gray; after the shearing when they leave it they are a light yellowish white. Thousands of people are employed in the wool industry; in securing the product, spinning it, weaving it into cloth, and making it into garments for our use.

Silk has been used for many centuries in the manufacture of garments. A Chinese legend tells of a wife of one of the early emperors of China who lived more than thirty-five centuries ago and who learned to make silk from the cocoon of the caterpillar. From this discovery has come a great industry. The caterpillar lives upon the leaves of the mulberry tree, and it has to be fed and tended with infinite patience. The process of gathering the cocoons and of preparing them for spinning is a business that can be learned only by years of apprenticeship. Caring for the caterpillar is a task that does not always appeal to people, and yet it is one that engages the attention of a large number of workers.

Cotton was first used in India, but its cultivation and manufacture developed in three continents at just about the same time. In a Vedic hymn written fifteen centuries before Christ reference is made to “the threads in the loom,” which indicates that the manufacture of cloth was already well advanced. Cotton was used in China one thousand years before Christ. It was held to be so valuable that a heavy fine was imposed upon any one who stole a garment or any piece of cotton cloth. Alexander the Great found cotton in use when he invaded India, and tradition says that it was he who introduced its use into Europe. In Persia cotton was exclusively used before the days of Alexander. Thousands of years before the invention of machinery for the making of cotton cloth Hindu girls were spinning cotton on wheels, making it into yarn, and using frail looms for weaving these yarns into textiles. The beauty of the fabric was so striking that they were known as “Webs of the Woven Wind.”

=Cotton and History.= Cotton has played a large part in the history of the United States. It was just one hundred years after the discovery of America that the first cotton plant was introduced into the land. The short-staple cotton plant did not mean much until 1814 when an enterprising New Englander assembled in one building the several processes of spinning and weaving. His shop at Waltham was the first complete cotton factory in the world. The South made the mistake of turning its attention to the planting of cotton and allowing the North to do the manufacturing. Cotton became an important factor only when the cotton-gin was invented. This was in 1833. When cotton became profitable, Negro slavery took on an added meaning. The value of cotton was really the factor that led men to demand that slavery should continue as a national institution.

=Why Increase Production?= Having secured the material suitable to be made into cloth the next step was to improve the process of manufacture. The first wool that was woven was rolled in the hand, made into threads, and woven in a very crude loom. The task was a tedious one, and the cloth was produced very slowly. But, as time went on, man by practise learned more about weaving. He had been weaving linen from flax in the days when the Pyramids were being built in Egpyt, but it was not until the power-loom was invented that cloth-making could be carried on as a profitable industry. Early man had just about all he could do to provide himself with food, shelter, and the clothes that he needed. To-day these things are provided in quantities sufficient for all and with little exertion. Hence, we find the basis for the division of labor. A machine for spinning cotton can produce enough thread in a very few hours to make clothes for the families of all the men who are interested in operating the machine. This thread is then turned over to the operator of the power-loom; the machinery is started and the cloth begins to roll itself up into a huge bundle. Very soon enough is produced to clothe all of those who are interested and occupied with this operation. The cloth is then turned over to the garment-makers and the process of fashioning the clothes is carried forward so that each individual has his or her part to perform; and in a very short time there are enough garments fashioned and finished so that all the garment-makers can be provided with clothes. Now comes the question that is so often asked. If there is plenty of clothing for everybody, why should some people not have clothes enough? If a man interested in the production of cloth makes more than enough for him to wear, why should he go on working? The answer to this is that, in the modern world, man must trade off his specialized product in order to satisfy his own needs and those of his family.

=The Machine.= The enterprise of clothing the world is made possible by machinery. Man has never produced more marvelous results than in the development of the intricate, huge, and costly machines which fashion the fabrics from which we make our clothes. These tools give man a thousand hands where before he had only two. If each person did only a moderate amount of labor the people of every country that employed machinery would be provided with all the necessities of life. A supply could be insured without overworking any one, and a few hours’ work each day would be enough. In that time all that is necessary for each individual would be produced. The machine, then, is the instrument that increases the possibility for leisure; by the multiplied productive power it increases the number of things that a man may have, and at the same time it enlarges his possibilities for leisure. We accept the machine as we accept the weather. As a matter of fact it is not at all certain that since the machine has been with us we have been any happier because of the enormous production of our times. The machine has carried on the divisions in our industrial life. The new methods and improved devices save labor, time, and energy. At the same time they increase the output. A man’s hand is no more mighty than it was centuries ago, but backed by the tireless energy of machinery he can with slight effort turn out a production that a story-teller would not have credited to the mightiest giants of mythology.

The United States Bureau of Labor tells the story in figures. Five hundred yards of checked gingham can be made by a machine in 73 hours; by hand labor it would take 5,844 hours. One hundred pounds of sewing cotton can be made by a machine in 39 hours; by hand labor it would take 2,895 hours. The labor costs are proportionate. The increased effectiveness of a man’s labor aided by the use of machinery, according to these reports, varies from 150 per cent. all the way up to 2,000 per cent. Hence, we see that the machine is not so much a labor-saving device as it is a production-making device. As has been said already, it is man’s energy and strength multiplied many times. The machine has become so potent that the question is, “What relation shall the created thing be to the creator?” The machine sets the pace. The man or woman working with it must follow. It is exacting, implacable, produces through long hours; is set up in the midst of high temperatures, and is utterly indifferent to the fate of the individuals operating it. It works at night, it works by day and under conditions which are humanly impossible; but human beings are forced to keep the pace. The textile cities of America with their rows of tenements are practically built by the machinery in the mills and factories. The system has grown up, and men and women are forced to adjust themselves to this system. The welfare and happiness of the individuals working at the machines are very likely to be matters of secondary importance to the value of the production of the machinery itself.

=The Workers.= At the present time in the United States there are about 1,000,000 people employed in all the textile industries and about $500,000,000 a year paid in wages. About one and three quarter billions is the total value of the production. The worker in these mills is a worker and little or nothing else. The struggle for mere existence takes so much of his time that he has slight opportunity and but small inclination to take part in any social or civic affairs. He usually lives in a tenement or in a barrack type of building provided by the company for which he works.

=The Southern Mill Village.= In the Southern mill towns the companies usually own all the houses in which the people live. These houses are generally one-story buildings with a porch extending along the entire front. All of them are alike, and most of them are painted gray or drab. The streets of the mill village are unpaved and in most places cut into gullies by the rains. In a few places running water, bathtubs, electricity, and other modern conveniences have been provided, but these are the rare exceptions. More often the houses are barren of all comforts, and living is reduced to the lowest possible terms. The mill village has ordinarily but one store and this is owned or controlled by the company. The food eaten by the people is of the simplest kind; corn bread, pork side-meat, and coffee make up the staples of diet. Nearly all the members of the family work in the mill. At an investigation made by a state commission in Atlanta, Georgia, one of the men testified that he, his wife, five of his children, and his wife’s sister all worked in the mill; there were three younger children who stayed at home, the oldest one of the three acting as housekeeper and nurse. The improvements that most people expect as a matter of course, such as fire-proofing, sanitary plumbing, lighting, heating, storage, bathing, and washing facilities are utterly unknown. If you spent a day in one of these mill villages, you would find one or two members in almost every family sitting on the porch of the house and away from work because of sickness. If a neighbor happens to pass, you would hear some such conversation as this: “Howdy? How are you feeling?” “Poorly, thank you, I have never felt worse in my life; my victuals just don’t seem to agree with me, an’ I just feel like I was of no account.” The vitality of the people is being sapped by the insanitary conditions under which they live. It was discovered some years ago that hookworm is the cause of the illness that has been preying upon these workers for generations. The dangerous worms thrive in the midst of filth. A clean-up of the village and the building of better homes almost certainly eliminates the disease and its cause.

The people of the mill village find most of their recreation in the near-by city. Nearly all of the principal Southern cities have a number of these villages contributory to it. In many a home the only piece of finery is the tawdry dress made up in what is supposed to be the latest style--certainly the most exaggerated style--and usually in the most striking colors. This is the Sunday dress of the young lady of the house. When she is ready for her day off in the city, her costume will be completed by the addition of a hat of the most marvelous and striking make and color.

=The Motion-Picture’s Contribution.= The motion-picture theater has been a godsend to the people of the mill village. Most of these workers are very ignorant. Hard living and incessant toil have deprived them of the opportunity of attending school, and even if there were the will to get an education, the schools have not been accessible in many instances; consequently, the people have merely the rudiments of an education, and many of them can neither read nor write. Hundreds of homes in these villages have no books except an almanac and a Bible. The needs of the workers are almost overwhelming, so that one hardly knows where to begin even to tell about the changes that must be made in a community before much benefit can be secured in the lives of the individuals. The motion-picture has brought to these workers scenes from the outside world and has enlarged their ideas of life. Any one can understand the lesson a picture teaches.

The motion-picture furnishes amusement and recreation, and it gives a glimpse of larger aims and new motives. The girls who dress up in their fine clothes and gaudy hats and go to the city whenever they have a chance are trying to express themselves. Inherently they have fine traits of character, but out of their ignorance and lack of experience they are unable properly to balance the proportion of color and style and make these to fit in with the facts of every-day life. There is no one to teach them; they are unable to go to dressmakers for advice, and the people with whom they associate admire the kind of finery that they wear. But when they see these pictures presented on the screen they get a chance to know how people in other places really live and act. As one girl said: “I only learned how to be a lady when I got to see ladies’ pictures at the movies.”

=Improvements.= Some of the mills have built model villages, have furnished good schools, churches, playgrounds, and other recreational features. There have been discouraging failures made in attempting to lead the people to accept the better things; but the failures are insignificant when compared to the successes that have been achieved by the companies that have really had the welfare of the workers at heart. One mill owner has put in the finest kind of equipment in the homes of the people. The hours of labor have been materially reduced: first they began with eight, now they have seven, and this reformer says that he believes that they will be able to reduce the hours still further and make the six-hour day the standard. He intends to put on four shifts of workers for each twenty-four hours and believes that he will get a better result than could be achieved even with the eight-hour day. It is interesting to note that this man, by paying higher wages than others and by reducing the hours of labor, has been able to secure permanence among his workers; and at this period when other mills are shorthanded, he has all the labor that he needs. “It is not philanthropy but good sense” is his way of defining the splendid work he is doing.

=Workers in the Northern Textile Cities.= In the Northern textile cities we find a different situation, for most of the workers live in tenements. The stores, shops, and theaters are built and operated with the demands of the workers, rather than their needs in view. In one of these textile cities the average wage is $11.25 a week. Consider the case of just one family living in this city under these conditions. The family lives in a tenement with barely room enough for the father, mother, two daughters, and a son. The mother is devoted to the home; the father is a loom-fixer in the mill and a member of the union. All attend the Congregational church on Sundays. This man has been able to send his children through grammar school. His wages are above the average for the kind of work he is doing. The two girls started work just as soon as they finished school. The son also went to work, but he was so tired of the town where he had always lived that he went to New York and secured a position there. Everything went well for many years, and the prospects, while not bright for the future, were not especially dark. Then trouble came. First, the father was sick, and his illness dragged on through the whole winter, but by spring he was able to go back to work. It was the beginning of the slack season, however, when he applied for his old position. He went to work, but the wages were not as good as they had been when he left. The daughters found that in order to have any society they had to spend more money for clothes. “You can’t expect us to dress in a dowdy fashion, for if we do we never will have any friends,” was their assertion. Ten dollars was the wage of one of the girls and eight dollars the wage of the other girl. This amount did not go very far toward supporting them and buying the necessary clothes, and gave but little chance for a good time. Nothing was left to help the family fund. Before the winter was over a strike was called and the father lost his position. The family now became dependent upon the funds of the union to which the father belonged and the small amount the girls could squeeze out of their wages.

The winter passed as do all other mundane things and the strike came to an end. Those who were members of the union were not allowed to come back. The managers of the mill proclaimed that they had won a great victory for democracy and that the mill should be operated strictly as an “open shop.” The father found that “open shop” meant a closed shop to him until he tore up his union card and promised not to join any other labor organization. This he did in order to go back to work. He was forced to it, but he never quite gained the confidence of the foreman, for he was a marked man. Added to the hard struggle for existence with its attendant worries there is an increasing feeling of bitterness in the heart of this man, because he knows that he is being discriminated against for his former membership in the trade union. The family lives on, as thousands of others in the neighborhood are doing, but there is hostility toward the factory and all it represents. Not all the workers in the mill have this experience. Some have managed to save, and by good fortune have been able to save enough so that they are fairly comfortable and independent, owning their homes and living in comparative ease, although very simply. We must not think for a moment that there is only one side to this life and that always a disheartening one. The challenging thing, however, is that the men and women who are actually operating the machines are nearly all living harassed lives, with a heavy burden of trouble and worry, and are not finding the pleasure that should come from work well done.

=The Machine and Human Happiness.= The machine has been hailed as a savior from trouble and want. It promised happiness and well-being to all mankind. This promise has not been fulfilled, for instead of the prophecy of the future being one of cheer growing out of the development of the machine, it is rather one of warning. The machine has subordinated the man; thrust him aside and denied him a fair share of the things he has helped to create. As one of our keen-minded writers has said, “The machine has developed a new kind of slave and doomed him to produce through long and weary hours a senseless glut of things; and then forced him to suffer for lack of the very things he has produced.”

=The Church and the Factory.= What about the church in the midst of the factory city? The minister is no longer the most important personage in town. The business man dominates the life of the community. The mill has pushed itself into the place of influence once held by the church. In one of the New England cities a factory has been built around three sides of one of the oldest established churches. The church still remains, embraced by this factory. It is a fit parable of the present situation in the mill town. The church has a place but industry holds the outstanding position.

One of the most interesting pieces of work undertaken in recent years was that of a pastor in one of the mill villages in Georgia. He built the church; put in club rooms and provided features that would appeal to the people. At first the cotton-mill owners were favorably disposed toward the undertaking. They supplied a portion of the money toward erecting the building, and made a regular contribution for the support of the enterprise. The rector of the church soon found that the young people did not attend the social functions as much as he had hoped that they would, and they were conspicuous by their absence from the Sunday services. Upon inquiry, in addition to the usual reasons given by people for not attending church, he found that it was principally the economic factor that was at work against the church. Low wages and long hours left the people without energy enough to take part in anything that had to do with their culture or spiritual welfare. The sad thing about it was that the minister soon found to his deep sorrow that even his questioning of the people was resented by the authorities, who began to refer to him as a trouble-maker and a busybody, and eventually he was forced to resign his church and leave the community.

How is the church going to meet this situation? The church must continue its helpful agencies, open its club rooms, offer opportunity for play, for service, and for worship. But it must do more than that, for it must be the champion of the people, help them to secure a fair degree of leisure, and then direct them in a wise spending of their leisure hours. Unless the church can do this, it can never be the instrument for leading men and women in these communities to accept Jesus as a personal Savior from sin.