 | VII.
WHAT CAN BE GOT IN AMERICA. House and home papers |  |
7. VII.
WHAT CAN BE GOT IN AMERICA.
WHILE I was preparing my article for the “Atlantic,”
our friend Bob Stephens burst in upon
us, in some considerable heat, with a newspaper in his
hand.
“Well, girls, your time is come now! You women
have been preaching heroism and sacrifice to us, —
`so splendid to go forth and suffer and die for our
country,' — and now comes the test of feminine patriotism.”
“Why, what 's the matter now?” said Jenny, running
eagerly to look over his shoulder at the paper.
“No more foreign goods,” said he, waving it aloft,
— “no more gold shipped to Europe for silks, laces,
jewels, kid gloves, and what-not. Here it is, — great
movement, headed by senators' and generals' wives,
Mrs. General Butler, Mrs. John P. Hale, Mrs. Henry
Wilson, and so on, a long string of them, to buy no
more imported articles during the war.”
“But I don't see how it can be done,” said Jenny.
“Why,” said I, “do you suppose that `nothing to
wear' is made in America?”
“But, dear Mr. Crowfield,” said Miss Featherstone,
a nice girl, who was just then one of our family-circle,
“there is not, positively, much that is really fit to
use or wear made in America, — is there now? Just
think; how is Marianne to furnish her house here
without French papers and English carpets? — those
American papers are so very ordinary, and as to
American carpets, everybody knows their colors don't
hold; and then, as to dress, a lady must have gloves,
you know, — and everybody knows no such things are
made in America as gloves.”
“I think,” I said, “that I have heard of certain
fair ladies wishing that they were men, that they
might show with what alacrity they would sacrifice
everything on the altar of their country: life and limb
would be nothing; they would glory in wounds and
bruises, they would enjoy losing a right arm, they
would n't mind limping about on a lame leg the rest
of their lives, if they were John or Peter, if only they
might serve their dear country.”
“Yes,” said Bob, “that 's female patriotism! Girls
are always ready to jump off from precipices, or throw
themselves into abysses, but as to wearing an unfashionable
hat or thread gloves, that they can't do, —
not even for their dear country. No matter whether
there 's any money left to pay for the war or not, the
dear souls must have twenty yards of silk in a dress,
— it 's the fashion, you know.”
“Now, is n't he too bad?” said Marianne. “As if
we 'd ever been asked to make these sacrifices and
refused! I think I have seen women ready to give
up dress and fashion and everything else, for a good
cause.”
“For that matter,” said I, “the history of all wars
has shown women ready to sacrifice what is most
intimately feminine in times of peril to their country.
The women of Carthage not only gave up their jewels
in the siege of their city, but, in the last extremity,
cut off their hair for bow-strings. The women of
Hungary and Poland, in their country's need, sold
their jewels and plate and wore ornaments of iron and
lead. In the time of our own Revolution, our women
dressed in plain homespun and drank herb-tea, — and
certainly nothing is more feminine than a cup of tea.
And in this very struggle, the women of the Southern
States have cut up their carpets for blankets, have
borne the most humiliating retrenchments and privations
of all kinds without a murmur. So let us
exonerate the female sex of want of patriotism, at any
rate.”
“Certainly,” said my wife; “and if our Northern
women have not retrenched and made sacrifices, it
has been because it has not been impressed on them
that there is any particular call for it. Everything has
seemed to be so prosperous and plentiful in the Northern
come by, that it has really been difficult to realize that
a dreadful and destructive war was raging. Only occasionally,
after a great battle, when the lists of the
killed and wounded have been sent through the country,
have we felt that we were making a sacrifice. The
women who have spent such sums for laces and jewels
and silks have not had it set clearly before them why
they should not do so. The money has been placed
freely in their hands, and the temptation before their
eyes.”
“Yes,” said Jenny, “I am quite sure that there are
hundreds who have been buying foreign goods, who
would not do it, if they could see any connection
between their not doing it and the salvation of the
country; but when I go to buy a pair of gloves, I naturally
want the best pair I can find, the pair that will
last the longest and look the best, and these always
happen to be French gloves.”
“Then,” said Miss Featherstone, “I never could
clearly see why people should confine their patronage
and encouragement to works of their own country.
I 'm sure the poor manufacturers of England have
shown the very noblest spirit with relation to our
cause, and so have the silk-weavers and artisans of
France, — at least, so I have heard; why should we
not give them a fair share of encouragement, particularly
to make, have not the means to make?”
“Those are certainly sensible questions,” I replied,
“and ought to meet a fair answer, and I should say,
that, were our country in a fair ordinary state of prosperity,
there would be no reason why our wealth should
not flow out for the encouragement of well-directed
industry in any part of the world; from this point of
view we might look on the whole world as our country,
and cheerfully assist in developing its wealth and
resources. But our country is now in the situation of
a private family whose means are absorbed by an expensive
sickness, involving the life of its head; just
now it is all we can do to keep the family together,
all our means are swallowed up by our own domestic
wants, we have nothing to give for the encouragement
of other families, we must exist ourselves, we must
get through this crisis and hold our own, and that we
may do it all the family expenses must be kept within
ourselves as far as possible. If we drain off all the
gold of the country to send to Europe to encourage
her worthy artisans, we produce high prices and distress
among equally worthy ones at home, and we
lessen the amount of our resources for maintaining
the great struggle for national existence. The same
amount of money which we pay for foreign luxuries,
if passed into the hands of our own manufacturers
expenses of the war.”
“But, papa,” said Jenny, “I understood that a
great part of our Governmental income was derived
from the duties on foreign goods, and so I inferred
that the more foreign goods were imported the better
it would be.”
“Well, suppose,” said I, “that for every hundred
thousand dollars we send out of the country we pay
the Government ten thousand; that is about what our
gain as a nation would be; — we send our gold abroad
in a great stream, and give our Government a little
driblet.”
“Well, but,” said Miss Featherstone, “what can be
got in America? Hardly anything, I believe, except
common calicoes.”
“Begging your pardon, my dear lady,” said I,
“there is where you and multitudes of others are
greatly mistaken. Your partiality for foreign things
has kept you ignorant of what you have at home.
Now I am not blaming the love of foreign things; it
is not peculiar to us Americans; all nations have it.
It is a part of the poetry of our nature to love what
comes from afar, and reminds us of lands distant and
different from our own. The English belles seek after
French laces; the French beauty enumerates English
laces among her rarities; and the French dandy piques
great travellers, and few people travel, I fancy, with
more real enjoyment than we; our domestic establishments,
as compared with those of the Old World, are
less cumbrous and stately, and so our money is commonly
in hand as pocket-money, to be spent freely
and gayly in our tours abroad.
“We have such bright and pleasant times in every
country that we conceive a kindliness for its belongings.
To send to Paris for our dresses and our shoes
and our gloves may not be a mere bit of foppery, but
a reminder of the bright, pleasant hours we have spent
in that city of Boulevards and fountains. Hence it
comes, in a way not very blamable, that many people
have been so engrossed with what can be got from
abroad that they have neglected to inquire what can
be found at home; they have supposed, of course, that
to get a decent watch they must send to Geneva or to
London, — that to get thoroughly good carpets they
must have the English manufacture, — that a really
tasteful wall-paper could be found only in Paris, —
and that flannels and broadcloths could come only
from France, Great Britain, or Germany.”
“Well, is n't it so?” said Miss Featherstone. “I
certainly have always thought so; I never heard of
American watches, I 'm sure.”
“Then,” said I, “I 'm sure you can't have read an
watches, written by our friend George W. Curtis, in
the “Atlantic” for January of last year. I must refer
you to that to learn that we make in America watches
superior to those of Switzerland or England, bringing
into the service machinery and modes of workmanship
unequalled for delicacy and precision; as I said
before, you must get the article and read it, and if
some sunny day you could make a trip to Waltham,
and see the establishment, it would greatly assist your
comprehension.”
“Then, as to men's clothing,” said Bob, “I know
to my entire satisfaction that many of the most popular
cloths for men's wear are actually American fabrics
baptized with French and English names to make
them sell.”
“Which shows,” said I, “the use of a general community
movement to employ American goods. It will
change the fashion. The demand will create the supply.
When the leaders of fashion are inquiring for
American instead of French and English fabrics, they
will be surprised to find what nice American articles
there are. The work of our own hands will no more
be forced to skulk into the market under French and
English names, and we shall see, what is really true,
that an American gentleman need not look beyond
his own country for a wardrobe befitting him. I am
woollen goods from foreign lands, — that better hats
are made in America than in Europe, and better boots
and shoes; and I should be glad to send an American
gentleman to the World's Fair dressed from top to toe
in American manufactures, with an American watch
in his pocket, and see if he would suffer in comparison
with the gentlemen of any other country.”
“Then, as to house-furnishing,” began my wife,
“American carpets are getting to be every way equal
to the English.”
“Yes,” said I, “and what is more, the Brussels
carpets of England are woven on looms invented by
an American, and bought of him. Our countryman,
Bigelow, went to England to study carpet-weaving in
the English looms, — supposing that all arts were generously
open for the instruction of learners. He was
denied the opportunity of studying the machinery and
watching the processes by a short-sighted jealousy.
He immediately sat down with a yard of carpeting,
and, patiently unravelling it, thread by thread, combined
and calculated till he invented the machinery
on which the best carpets of the Old and New World
are woven. No pains which such ingenuity and energy
can render effective are spared to make our fabrics
equal those of the British market, and we need only
to be disabused of the old prejudice, and to keep up
our own resources. The fact is, every year improves
our fabrics. Our mechanics, our manufacturers, are
working with an energy, a zeal, and a skill that carry
things forward faster than anybody dreams of; and
nobody can predicate the character of American articles,
in any department, now, by their character even
five years ago.”
“Well, as to wall-papers,” said Miss Featherstone,
“there you must confess the French are and must be
unequalled.”
“I do not confess any such thing,” said I, hardily.
“I grant you that in that department of paper-hangings
which exhibits floral decoration the French designs
and execution are and must be for some time to come
far ahead of all the world, — their drawing of flowers,
vines, and foliage has the accuracy of botanical studies
and the grace of finished works of art, and we cannot
as yet pretend in America to do anything equal to it.
But for satin finish, and for a variety of exquisite tints
of plain colors, American papers equal any in the
world; our gilt papers even surpass in the heaviness
and polish of the gilding those of foreign countries;
and we have also gorgeous velvets. All I have to say
is, let people who are furnishing houses inquire for
articles of American manufacture, and they will be
surprised at what they will see. We need go no
the most dainty devices of cut-glass, crystal, ground
and engraved glass of every color and pattern, may be
had of American workmanship, every way equal to
the best European make, and for half the price. And
American painting on china is so well executed both
in Boston and New York, that deficiencies in the finest
French or English sets can be made up in a style not
distinguishable from the original, as one may easily
see by calling on our worthy next neighbor, Briggs, who
holds the opposite corner to our “Atlantic Monthly.”
No porcelain, it is true, is yet made in America,
these decorative arts being exercised on articles imported
from Europe. Our tables must, therefore, per
force, be largely indebted to foreign lands for years
to come. Exclusive of this item, however, I believe
it would require very little self-denial to paper, carpet,
and furnish a house entirely from the manufactures
of America. I cannot help saying one word here in
favor of the cabinet-makers of Boston. There is so
much severity of taste, such a style and manner about
the best made Boston furniture, as raises it really quite
into the region of the fine arts. Our artisans have
studied foreign models with judicious eyes, and so
transferred to our country the spirit of what is best
worth imitating, that one has no need to import furniture
from Europe.”
“Well,” said Miss Featherstone, “there is one
point you cannot make out, — gloves; certainly the
French have the monopoly of that article.”
“I am not going to ruin my cause by asserting too
much,” said I. “I have n't been with nicely dressed
women so many years not to speak with proper respect
of Alexander's gloves, — and I confess, honestly, that
to forego them must be a fair, square sacrifice to
patriotism. But then, on the other hand, it is nevertheless
true that gloves have long been made in
America and surreptitiously brought into market as
French. I have lately heard that very nice kid gloves
are made at Watertown and in Philadelphia. I have
only heard of them, and not seen. A loud demand
might bring forth an unexpected supply from these
and other sources. If the women of America were
bent on having gloves made in their own country, how
long would it be before apparatus and factories would
spring into being? Look at the hoop-skirt factories,
— women wanted hoop-skirts, — would have them or
die, — and forthwith factories arose, and hoop-skirts
became as the dust of the earth for abundance.”
“Yes,” said Miss Featherstone, “and, to say the
truth, the American hoop-skirts are the only ones fit
to wear. When we were living on the Champs Elysées,
I remember we searched high and low for something
like them, and finally had to send home to
America for some.”
“Well,” said I, “that shows what I said. Let
there be only a hearty call for an article, and it will
come. These spirits of the vasty deep are not so
very far off, after all, as we may imagine, and women's
unions and leagues will lead to inquiries and demands
which will as infallibly bring supplies as a vacuum will
create a draught of air.”
“But, at least, there are no ribbons made in America,”
said Miss Featherstone.
“Pardon, my lady, there is a ribbon-factory now in
operation in Boston, and ribbons of every color are
made in New York; there is also in the vicinity of
Boston a factory which makes Roman scarfs. This
shows that the faculty of weaving ribbons is not wanting
to us Americans, and a zealous patronage would
increase the supply.
“Then, as for a thousand and one little feminine
needs, I believe our manufacturers can supply them.
The Portsmouth Steam Company makes white spool-cotton
equal to any in England, and colored spool-cotton,
of every shade and variety, such as is not made
either in England or France. Pins are well made in
America; so are hooks and eyes, and a variety of
buttons. Straw bonnets of American manufacture are
also extensively in market, and quite as pretty ones as
the double-priced ones which are imported.
“As to silks and satins, I am not going to pretend
silk manufactories, like that of the Cheneys in Connecticut,
where very pretty foulard dress-silks are
made, together with sewing-silk enough to supply a
large demand. Enough has been done to show that
silks might be made in America; but at present, as
compared with Europe, we claim neither silks nor
thread laces among our manufactures.
“But what then? These are not necessaries of life.
Ladies can be very tastefully dressed in other fabrics
besides silks. There are many pretty American dress-goods
which the leaders of fashion might make fashionable;
and certainly no leader of fashion could wish
to dress for a nobler object than to aid her country in
deadly peril.
“It is not a life-pledge, not a total abstinence, that
is asked, — only a temporary expedient to meet a
stringent crisis. We only ask a preference for American
goods where they can be found. Surely, women
whose exertions in Sanitary Fairs have created an era
in the history of the world will not shrink from so
small a sacrifice for so obvious a good.
“Here is something in which every individual woman
can help. Every woman who goes into a shop
and asks for American goods renders an appreciable
aid to our cause. She expresses her opinion and her
patriotism; and her voice forms a part of that demand
country. We shall learn to know our own country.
We shall learn to respect our own powers, — and
every branch of useful labor will spring and flourish
under our well-directed efforts. We shall come out
of our great contest, not bedraggled, ragged, and
poverty-stricken, but developed, instructed, and rich.
Then will we gladly join with other nations in the
free interchange of manufactures, and gratify our eye
and taste with what is foreign, while we can in turn
send abroadour our own productions in equal ratio.”
“Upon my word,” said Miss Featherstone, “I
should think it was the Fourth of July, — but I yield
the point. I am convinced; and henceforth you will
see me among the most stringent of the leaguers.”
“Right!” said I.
And, fair lady-reader, let me hope you will say the
same. You can do something for your country, — it
lies right in your hand. Go to the shops, determined
on supplying your family and yourself with American
goods. Insist on having them; raise the question of
origin over every article shown to you. In the Revolutionary
times, some of the leading matrons of New
England gave parties where the ladies were dressed in
homespun and drank sage-tea. Fashion makes all
things beautiful, and you, my charming and accomplished
friend, can create beauty by creating fashion.
Not anything in the shawls themselves, for they often
look coarse and dingy and barbarous. It is the association
with style and fashion. Fair lady, give style
and fashion to the products of your own country, —
resolve that the money in your hand shall go to your
brave brothers, to your co-Americans, now straining
every nerve to uphold the nation, and cause it to
stand high in the earth. What are you without your
country? As Americans you can hope for no rank
but the rank of your native land, no badge of nobility
but her beautiful stars. It rests with this conflict to
decide whether those stars shall be badges of nobility
to you and your children in all lands. Women of
America, your country expects every woman to do her
duty!
| VII.
WHAT CAN BE GOT IN AMERICA. House and home papers | |