 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Triangle Trade
Initially, Britain's involvement in the cotton market was part of what was then the much more important trade with the Spice Islands (now part of Indonesia). In the 15th and 16th centuries, this was largely carried on by Islamic and, later, Portuguese merchants, who acted as middlemen between Europe, India, and the Spice Islands, providing India with European silver for Indian cotton, the Islands with cotton for pepper and spices, and Europe with pepper and spices for silver. By the early 17th century, however, the balance of power on the seas had shifted, and the Europeans -- notably the Dutch, English and French -- had wrested it away from the Portuguese and established their respective East India Companies, which from then on jostled each other for dominance in the profitable triangle trade.
British merchants' previous efforts to set up direct trade with the Spice Islands had been unsuccessful, as the woolens which were Britain's prime commodity could not compete with the light cottons favored by the population of that hot climate. To obtain spices, the British East India Company continued the triangle trade of English silver for Indian cotton for Island Spices, until the aggressive Dutch East India Company forced them out of Bantam and the Spice Islands in 1682. This left the British East India Company with India, and cotton. What followed was a model of creative marketing.* (2)
The Indian Craze
"Je me suis fait faire cette indienne-ci," declares Moliere's Bourgeois Gentleman in 1670: "I've had this Indian thing made up for me.... My tailor tells me that people of quality go about like this in the morning." In France they were called "Indiennes", "perses", or "toiles" -- in England, "chintz", "calicoe", "gingham", and "muslin", and not only people of quality were wearing them. While at first the handsomely-printed cotton fabrics were imported for use as bed-hangings and upholstery, it was not long before their merits as clothing material were discovered, and they were showing up in the wardrobes of working men and women in both France and England. (1) Samuel Pepys gave some account of his own purchases along this line:
July 1st. This morning I went up and down into the city, to buy several things, as I have lately done, for my house. Among other things, a fair chest of drawers for my own chamber, and an Indian gown for myself. The first cost me 33s, the other 34s. (5)
Later on, he purchases his wife "a chintz, that is, a painted Indian callico, for to line her new study" (6), and a few months later rejects a dubiously-bestowed "very noble parti-coloured Indian gowne for my wife...I guess this gowne may be worth about £12 or £15". (7)
The rising popularity of Indian cottons in Europe (as well as other Indian textiles, like silk) inevitably took trade away from the established market, especially in French and English woolens. Wool and linen had up to this point occupied the utilitarian niche for the working classes in the form of worsteds, stuffs, and fustians. Suddenly, the market was awash with an inexpensive, comfortable, durable, and beautiful alternative, colorfast and easy to clean. Some wearers of Indian cotton claimed that the colors even became brighter after washing. (8) Surviving samples of calicos and chintz from this period and earlier show that the quality of many of the imported cottons was very high, both in fabric and in print. The mordants and dyes used resulted in colors that have remained brilliant even after 300 years or more. (9)(10) That the influx of Indian cotton was creating a genuine economic panic in England is shown by the flurry of pamphlets that cropped up toward the turn of the 17th century, including one in 1699 which declared that "...twenty years ago, calico...was never seen as a fashionable adornment. But nowadays most men and women would not consider themselves dressed if they did not wear garments made of calico. Men now wear calico shirts, ties, sleeve protectors, gowns and handkerchiefs, while women favor calico hair ornaments, nightdresses, head scarves, aprons, gowns and underwear. Indian stockings are now all the rage among both the sexes. Unless parliament passes a law prohibiting it...it will be difficult to restrain this craze..."(2)
French Prohibition
The French government was the first to clamp down on the situation. Spurred by the well-organized protests of the weavers, who justifiably feared the collapse of their industry, Louis XIV began instituting a series of prohibitions in the 1680s against the import and use of toiles. Colbert, Louis' chief minister, happened to be the son of a wool merchant, which leads one to speculate about how far personal bias may have influenced economic policy in this case. (11) The prohibitions were continued under Louis XV and improved upon with the addition of huge fines for being caught wearing Indian goods. Fledgling efforts to produce French cottons were squelched for the same reasons. In this repressive environment, smuggling flourished. Significantly, Louis XV could not even prevent his own mistress, Mme. de Pompadour, from stocking her house with toiles (12); and as it became clear that the popularity of cottons could not be suppressed, France at last lifted the ban in 1759, and set about establishing its own cotton factories.
British Innovation
The enthusiasm for Indian cloth had taken deep root in England. Despite outcry from workers in the existing British textile industry, it was not until the 1700s that Parliament finally stirred itself to act against the import of Indian cotton. This was done chiefly to protect the woolen, linen and silk industries. But unlike the French laws, the English ban made certain exceptions: muslin was exempt, as was raw cotton; Indian cloth could be exported by the British East India Company to other markets, including British colonies; and every effort would be made to encourage a British cotton industry to produce fabric equal to or surpassing the quality of the forbidden Indian imports. (3)(4)
In the wake of the 1720 prohibitions, supply dried up, but demand was as strong as ever, and the fledgling cotton manufacturers of England rushed to fill it. The British East India Company had cultivated public taste for Indian goods by customizing the supply -- giving popular designs to the Indian manufacturers, who ably reproduced them in their delicate and sophisticated medium. It was a difficult act to follow, but the potential profit from capturing this market made it worth the effort. Manchester, a textile manufacturing center since medieval times, now became the site of cotton as well as wool and linen production. The first results were relatively crude, and many were actually blends of cotton with linen, or sometimes wool or silk. A large proportion of these early cottons were woven checks, (13) though as printing methods improved, the patterns became more varied; still, it wasn't until the 1740s that the print quality of English chintz was near to being on a par with Indian chintz. (3)
These early efforts may have been sub-standard, but were still bought and used by the British public. Calico gowns and aprons, handkerchiefs, ruffs and caps show up repeatedly in the inventories of servants and tradespeople. Richardson's Pamela, a servant about to return to her humbler origins, purchases "a good sad-colored stuff" for a gown, and makes facings and robings for it with "a pretty bit of printed callico". Her nightgown, "rather too good", is also calico. (14) While a large percentage of these items are women's wear, by the 1750s cotton shirts are beginning to appear in the lists with linen for men's wear, as well as cotton corduroy and velverets. Beverly Lemire states, "the largest portion of the cotton materials produced in Britain was the stuff of work-a-day clothing and Sunday bests. The laboring people, artisans, tradesmen and all those who aspired to gentility 'carried off' the bulk of British cottons in the late eighteenth century." (13) For upper- and middle-class consumers like Barbara Johnson, cottons were one clothing option among several that included silks, fine stuffs, and printed linens; but for the large working classes, cotton became a staple, especially as the industry advanced into the 1770s and '80s. Once Richard Arkwright's water frame (1769), James Hargreaves' "Spinning Jenny" (1770), and Samuel Crompton's spinning mule (1779) came on the scene, British cotton manufacturers were able to produce fine muslin thread, which at last made possible the production of Indian-quality muslin material. (3)
One en fourreau gown from this period is in the Museum of London collection (c. 1775, Accession #35.59), a fine example of cotton's durability. The material is a cotton/silk blend, chiefly white cotton, the exception being a cherry-red double-pinwale silk stripe running along the warp. It is embroidered with small polychrome flowers of silk floss, and looks remarkably unaffected by the passage of 225 years. ** The weft thread, all white, creates a pronounced horizontal grain in the fabric. The gown is simply-cut, with no more ornament than pleating and gauze ruffles at the elbows, and two cloth-covered buttons at the back for looping up the skirt. (15)
A second, probably later gown in the same collection (c. 1775-85, Accession #53.146/1-2) must have belonged to a woman of means. Elaborately embroidered with chain-stitched green silk vines and polychrome flowers, it is made from fine white Indian-cotton gauze, and was worn with a quilted petticoat. (This particular gown appeared in the 2000-01 exhibition Coton al la Mode at Le Musee Galliera in Paris, which featured many other examples of 18th-century cotton clothing.) Though the cut is similar to the other gown, the fine quality of the fabric gives it a drape suggestive of the muslin gowns of the Federalist period. At the elbow are cuffs trimmed with ruffled cream silk ribbon. The whole effect is sheer and delicate -- a step into a new age of dress. (15)
In 1774, Parliament granted British citizens the right to wear clothing made of 100% cotton. By then, there was a good chance that that clothing would be British-made cotton.
*This is very simplified account of the triangle trade. For a more detailed account, read Kawakatsu Heita's fine articles in the Journal of Japanese Trade and Industry, online at www.jef.or.jp.
**An agreement signed at the museum prevents me from including photos of these gowns. If I get permission, they will be in the second part of this article.
(1) Davenport, Millia: The Book of Costume, Crown Publishers, 1948. p. 530.
(2) Heita, Kawakatsu: "Japanese Civilization, Part 5: Maritime Asia and Europe", Journal of Japanese Trade and Industry, Nov/Dec 2002. (Kawakatsu Heita is a professor of economic history at the International Research Center for Japanese Studies in Kyoto.)
(3) Heita, Kawakatsu: "Japanese Civilization, Part 6: Maritime Asia and the Industrial Revolution ", Journal of Japanese Trade and Industry, Jan/Feb 2003.
(4) Baumgarten, Linda: What Clothes Reveal. Colonial Williamsburg Foundation, 2002. p. 79.
(5) Pepys, Samuel: Diary of Samuel Pepys, 1 July 1661.
(8) Bronson, Bennet: "An Industrial Miracle in a Golden Age: The 17th-Century Cloth Exports of India," 1982. (Dr. Bennet Bronson is Curator of Asian Archaeology and Ethnology at the Field Museum in Chicago.)
(9) Davenport, Millia: The Book of Costume. Crown Publishers, 1948. p. 535: #1405, #1406. (At the time of the book's publication, the dressing gown, c. 1700, and wall hanging were both in the collection of the Metropolitan Museum of Art.)
(10) The Kelsey Museum of Archaeology, University of Michigan. (Samples referred to are from the 1993 exhibition, "From Riches to Rags: Indian Block-Printed Textiles Traded to Egypt" (Curators, R. Barnes and T. K. Thomas), and date from around the 13th and early 14th centuries. These are remnants of cottons produced in India and discovered at the Red Sea port of Quseir al-Qadim, a trading center under the Mamluks of Egypt. Although the fibers are disintegrating, the colors have remained surprisingly intense.)
(11) Mitford, Nancy: The Sun King. Harper & Row, Publishers, 1966.
(12) Davenport, Millia: The Book of Costume. Crown Publishers, 1948. p. 696.
(13) Lemire, Beverly: "A Good Stock of Cloaths': The Changing Market for Cotton Clothing in Britain, 1750-1800". Textile History, 22 (2), 311-328, 1991.
(14) Richardson, Samuel: Pamela, or Virtue Rewarded, volume I, 1741. Letters 20 & 29
(15) Study done by Sona Hairabedian at the Museum of London, April 2002
(The second part of this article will deal with the cotton trade as it applied to the American colonies, how it was affected by the Revolutionary War, meanings of the word "cotton", and the sort of cotton that would have been available to Americans during the 18th century, especially 1760-1785.)
© 2008 Gene Tozzi, First Ulster County Militia, Inc
