No. 8
TO one man more than any other belongs the credit of establishing upon an extensive scale the hat business, which in the early part of the present century was so prominently identified with the growth and prosperity of Baltimore; that person was Jacob Rogers, whose business career in his native city extended over a period of more than fifty years, fortified by a reputation that brought the universal respect of his fellow-citizens, and leaving a worthy example for those succeeding him.
Jacob Rogers was born in the year 1766. As in those days boys were apprenticed at an early age, it may be supposed that when he was fifteen years old he was in the employ of David Shields, with whom it is known he served his term of apprenticeship at hat-making. In 1796 Mr. Rogers is found the proprietor of a retail hat store at the corner of South and Second streets. He was an enterprising man, and succeeded in building up a business of large proportions. He died in 1842, possessed of a fortune amounting to three hundred thousand dollars, a large accumulation for those days. In 1805 he built an extensive factory on Second street, near Tripolet's alley – now Post-Office avenue – and adjoining the old Lutheran Church, the spire of which then contained the Town Clock; these old landmarks are now all removed and the location occupied by the stately edifice of the Corn and Flour Exchange. The number of hands employed by Mr. Rogers at his factory and "front shop" was about one hundred, including apprentices. His "plank" shop comprised five batteries, aggregating thirty men; in the finishing shop he employed about twenty-five, and he had usually bound to him as many as fifteen apprentices. This would appear to be a large force for a hat-manufacturing concern of that early period, but it must be remembered that the manual labor bestowed upon one hat then was more than that on some thousands in the present day of labor-saving machinery.
That Mr. Rogers was a strict disciplinarian and an excellent business man is proven by the perfect control he exercised over the large number in his employ, whom he ruled with a firm hand yet with a wise judgment, and while rebuking any disobedience of orders, was feared, respected and loved for his strict sense of honor, justice and propriety.
He boarded under his own roof nearly all his apprentices to the trade; a few were privileged to lodge at home, while their board was supplied by their master, as one of the stipulations of their indenture; so Jacob Rogers' immediate family, which was not a small one, was greatly enlarged by the addition of fifteen to twenty wild, untamed "prentice" boys. What would have been the domestic condition of such a family without the ruling influence of a stern master only those can imagine who know the kind of material of which the journeyman hatter of those days was composed. He was a veritable tramp.
As a rule with Mr. Rogers, chastisement immediately followed misconduct; with him the present was the opportune time for punishment, and whether in the home, the shop, or on the street, any of the shop-boys were found doing wrong, correction was given in the then customary way – by flogging.
Mr. Rogers was a conscientious member of the Methodist Church, and maintained a high character for honesty and probity, and recognized as a fair man in all his dealings.
A good story is told to show how, though driving a keen bargain, he was careful not to misrepresent. In his store one day he was divulging to a friend some of the secrets of his business, showing how successfully a prime beaver-napped hat could be made with the slightest sprinkling of the valuable beaver fur, a trick just then discovered. Soon after a purchaser appeared inquiring for a beaver-napped hat. Mr. Rogers expatiated upon the marvelous beauty of the "tile," and his customer put the question: "Mr. Rogers, is this a genuine beaver hat?" "My dear sir," said Mr. Rogers, "I pledge my word that the best part of the material in that hat is pure beaver." The hat was bought and paid for and the customer departed, well satisfied with his purchase. At once Mr. Rogers was catechised by his friend, who had earnestly watched the trade, remarking: "Why, Mr. Rogers, did you not tell me that there was but a trifling amount of beaver in that hat you just sold, and you, a church member, so misrepresent to a customer?" "My friend," replied Mr. Rogers, "I made no misrepresentation, I told my customer the honest fact, that the best part of the material of which the hat was made was pure beaver, and so it was."
The journeyman hatter of Mr. Rogers' time was a character, migratory in his ways, his general habit being to work for a short time – a season or less in one place – then, from desire of change or lack of employment, to seek for pastures new. As railroad travel was not then thought of, and stage-coach conveyance a luxury at most times beyond the pecuniary means of the itinerant hatter, the journey was usually made on foot.
Application for work could not be made to the proprietor, but must necessarily go through the medium of an employee. Frequently an applicant in straitened circumstances who failed to be "shopped," appealed to his more fortunate fellow-workmen to relieve his destitute condition, who always made a ready and hearty response by providing for his immediate wants and starting him again on his pilgrimage with a light heart and a wish for good luck. This constant wandering habit frequently brought the hatter of those days to a condition of abject dependence, and supplied a large proportion of that vagrant class now denominated "tramps." It was often the boast of these hatter "tramps" that in the period of a year or two they would make the tour of the entire country from Portland, Maine, to Baltimore in the South, and Pittsburg, then "far west," "shopping" awhile in some town or village and then marching on in search of another chance.
In the "season" when labor was in demand good workmen did not apply in vain, but most hat factories were subject to dull times between seasons, necessitating a reduction in the number of hands. This general plan was productive of irregularity in the habits of the workman, allowing him to have no settled place of habitation. Baltimore, however, was an exception to the general rule, her factories providing constant employment for her workmen, thus encouraging a deeper interest in their vocation.
It is said that in business Mr. Rogers never knew what dull times were; he kept his hat factory in active operation all the year round. This prosperous condition of things had the tendency to make the Baltimore hatter somewhat of a permanent settler, thereby identifying him more closely with the interests and the growth of his own city, and causing him to become personally concerned in its success and prosperity; an experience quite different from that of his fellow-workmen elsewhere, who were constantly changing their habitation. Thus the Baltimore hatter was reared under conditions favorable to his improvement by serving his apprentice days under the influence of a conscientious master. The effect of this early training was manifest in his character as a good citizen ever after, often securing for him in the place of his birth positions of trust, and many of Baltimore's best citizens, and some of her noblest men, received their early training in the model hat-shops of their own city.
With the growing trade of the city, the business of hat-making kept steady pace. The prosperity of the South, and the constant development of the West, provided Baltimore with a wide outlet for her products. Through the business channels of this young and enterprising city flowed a large proportion of the products of the mills and factories of New England, assisting materially the business activity of the place, and it is quite likely that the interests of Baltimore and New England at that time being so connected is an explanation why so many New England people migrated to Baltimore in those days of her prosperity.
With characteristic energy and enterprise, Mr. Rogers extended his business, pushing forward into new fields as the settlement of the country advanced. Besides a large trade with the entire South, the wagon-trains, which were the expresses of those days, distributed his goods throughout the States of Ohio, Indiana, Kentucky and Tennessee, thus securing to him at that time the most extensive business in hat manufacture conducted by any one firm in the United States.
Fortune favored Mr. Rogers, and during his whole business career there was no interruption in the progress of this industry in Baltimore. Not until his death, or after the middle of the century, was there any noticeable decline.
The eventful business career and commendable private life of Mr. Rogers ended on the 10th of April, 1842, he falling suddenly in the old Light-street Methodist Church while attending divine service. The Baltimore Sun of April 11, 1842, mentioned his death as follows:
"The illness of Jacob Rogers, Esq., occurred in Light-street Church; he fell in a faint from which he died an hour after at his residence, No. 9 South street. He was well known and respected as one of the most worthy, industrious, and valuable of our citizens of Baltimore."
OLD METHODS
No. 9
JUST as the first half of the present century was expiring, an invention was made that at once revolutionized the whole system of hat-making. A machine was patented in the United States by H. A. Wells, in the year 1846, which successfully accomplished the work of making or forming a hat in a very short space of time, which heretofore had required the slow, tedious and skillful labor of the hands, thus so equally dividing the century that the first half may be practically considered as following the old method, and the latter half as using the new method.
So remarkable was this invention that its introduction quickly produced a change in the character of hats by greatly reducing their cost of manufacture, together with a change in the manner of conducting the hat business. To show up the old method of hat-making that existed prior to the use of the Wells machine is the purpose of this chapter, the greater part of the information here given having been gained from an article in "Sears' Guide to Knowledge," published in 1844.
Let us enter a Baltimore hat "shop" of fifty years ago and watch the making of a single hat. Fur and wool constitute the main ingredients of which hats have always been made, because possessing those qualities necessary for the process of "felting," the finer and better class of hats being made of the furs of such animals as the beaver, bear, marten, minx, hare and rabbit. The skins of these animals after being stripped from the body are called "pelts"; when the inner side has undergone a process of tanning the skins obtain the name of "furs" in a restricted sense, and the term is still more restricted when applied to the hairy coating cut from the skin.
The furs to which the old-time hatter gave preference were the beaver, the muskrat, the nutria, the hare and the rabbit, of which the first was by far the most valuable. These animals all have two kinds of hair on their skins, the innermost of which is short and fine as down, the outermost, thick, long and more sparing, the former being of much use, the latter of no value to the hatter. After receiving the "skins" or "pelts," which are greasy and dirty, they are first cleaned with soap and water, then carried to the "pulling-room," where women are employed in pulling out the coarse outer hairs from the skins, which is done by means of a knife acting against the thumb, the fingers and thumb being guarded by a short leather shield. The skins are then taken and the fur cut or "cropped" from them, which is done by men dexterously using a sharp knife, formed with a round blade, such as is used now-a-days in the kitchen as a "chopping knife." By keeping this knife constantly moving across the skin the fur is taken off or separated without injury to the skin, which is to be tanned for leather or consigned to the glue factory. The cutting of furs, however, had become before 1844 a business in some measure conducted by itself, and a machine had been invented to separate the fur from the skin, which, though it might be considered now a simple affair, was at that time looked upon as a wonder.
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 - This article was written in 1887, since when these two have passed on.] 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.
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.