The silk manufacture, though originating in the secretion of a tiny caterpillar, is perhaps equally extraordinary. Hundreds of thousands of pounds weight of this slender thread, no thicker than the filaments spun by a spider, give employment to millions of workers throughout the world. Silk, and the many textures wrought from this beautiful material, had long been known in the East; but the period cannot be fixed when man first divested the chrysalis of its dwelling, and discovered that the little yellow ball which adhered to the leaf of the mulberry tree, could be evolved into a slender filament, from which tissues of endless variety and beauty could be made. The Chinese were doubtless among the first who used the thread spun by the silkworm for the purposes of clothing. The manufacture went westward from China to India and Persia, and from thence to Europe. Alexander the Great brought home with him a store of rich silks from Persia Aristotle and Pliny give descriptions of the industrious little worm and its productions. Virgil is the first of the Roman writers who alludes to the production of silk in China; and the terms he employs show how little was then known about the article. It was introduced at Rome about the time of Julius Caesar, who displayed a profusion of silks in some of his magnificent theatrical spectacles. Silk was so valuable that it was then sold for an equal weight of gold. Indeed, a law was passed that no man should disgrace himself by wearing a silken garment. The Emperor Heliogabalus despised the law, and wore a dress composed wholly of silk. The example thus set was followed by wealthy citizens. A demand for silk from the East soon became general.
It was not until about the middle of the sixth century that two Persian monks, who had long resided in China, and made themselves acquainted with the mode of rearing the silkworm, succeeded in carrying the eggs of the insect to Constantinople. Under their direction they were hatched and fed. A sufficient number of butterflies were saved to propagate the race, and mulberry trees were planted to afford nourishment to the rising generations of caterpillars. Thus the industry was propagated. It spread into the Italian peninsula; and eventually manufactures of silk velvet, damask, and satin became established in Venice, Milan, Florence, Lucca, and other places.
Indeed, for several centuries the manufacture of silk in Europe was for the most part confined to Italy. The rearing of silkworms was of great importance in Modena, and yielded a considerable revenue to the State. The silk produced there was esteemed the best in Lombardy. Until the beginning of the sixteenth century, Bologna was the only city which possessed proper "throwing" mills, or the machinery requisite for twisting and preparing silken fibres for the weaver. Thousands of people were employed at Florence and Genoa about the same time in the silk manufacture. And at Venice it was held in such high esteem, that the business of a silk factory was considered a noble employment.[1]
It was long before the use of silk became general in England. "Silk," said an old writer, "does not immediately come hither from the Worm that spins and makes it, but passes many a Climate, travels many a Desert, employs many a Hand, loads many a Camel, and freights many a Ship before it arrives here; and when at last it comes, it is in return for other manufactures, or in exchange for our money."[2] It is said that the first pair of silk stockings was brought into England from Spain, and presented to Henry VIII. He had before worn hose of cloth. In the third year of Queen Elizabeth's reign, her tiring woman, Mrs. Montagu, presented her with a pair of black silk stockings as a New Year's gift; whereupon her Majesty asked if she could have any more, in which case she would wear no more cloth stockings. When James VI. of Scotland received the ambassadors sent to congratulate him upon his accession to the throne of Great Britain, he asked one of his lords to lend him his pair of silken hose, that he "might not appear a scrub before strangers." From these circumstances it will be observed how rare the wearing of silk was in England.
Shortly after becoming king, James I. endeavoured to establish the silk manufacture in England, as had already been successfully done in France. He gave every encouragement to the breeding of silkworms. He sent circular letters to all the counties of England, strongly recommending the inhabitants to plant mulberry trees. The trees were planted in many places, but the leaves did not ripen in sufficient time for the sustenance of the silkworms.
The same attempt was made at Inneshannon, near Bandon, in Ireland, by the Hugnenot refugees, but proved abortive. The climate proved too cold or damp for the rearing of silkworms with advantage. All that remains is "The Mulberry Field," which still retains its name. Nevertheless the Huguenots successfully established the silk manufacture at London and Dublin, obtaining the spun silk from abroad.
Down to the beginning of last century, the Italians were the principal producers of organzine or thrown silk; and for a long time they succeeded in keeping their art a secret. Although the silk manufacture, as we have seen, was introduced into this country by the Huguenot artizans, the price of thrown silk was so great that it interfered very considerably with its progress. Organzine was principally made within the dominions of Savoy, by means of a large and curious engine, the like of which did not exist elsewhere. The Italians, by the most severe laws, long preserved the mystery of the invention. The punishment prescribed by one of their laws to be inflicted upon anyone who discovered the secret, or attempted to carry it out of the Sardinian dominions, was death, with the forfeiture of all the goods the delinquent possessed; and the culprit was "to be afterwards painted on the outside of the prison walls, hanging to the gallows by one foot, with an inscription denoting the name and crime of the person, there to be continued for a perpetual mark of infamy."[3]
Nevertheless, a bold and ingenious man was found ready to brave all this danger in the endeavour to discover the secret. It may be remembered with what courage and determination the founder of the Foley family introduced the manufacture of nails into England. He went into the Danemora mine district, near Upsala in Sweden, fiddling his way among the miners; and after making two voyages, he at last wrested from them the secret of making nails, and introduced the new industry into the Staffordshire district.[4] The courage of John Lombe, who introduced the thrown-silk industry into England, was equally notable. He was a native of Norwich. Playfair, in his 'Family Antiquity' (vii. 312), says his name "may have been taken from the French Lolme, or de Lolme," as there were many persons of French and Flemish origin settled at Norwich towards the close of the sixteenth century; but there is no further information as to his special origin.
John Lombe's father, Henry Lombe, was a worsted weaver, and was twice married. By his first wife he had two sons, Thomas and Henry; and by his second, he had also two sons, Benjamin and John. At his death in 1695, he left his two brothers his "supervisors," or trustees, and directed them to educate his children in due time to some useful trade. Thomas, the eldest son, went to London. He was apprenticed to a trade, and succeeded in business, as we find him Sheriff of London and Middlesex in 1727, when in his forty-second year. He was also knighted in the same year, most probably on the accession of George II. to the throne.
John, the youngest son of the family, and half-brother of Thomas, was put an apprentice to a trade. In 1702, we find him at Derby, working as a mechanic with one Mr. Crotchet. This unfortunate gentleman started a small silk-mill at Derby, with the object of participating in the profits derived from the manufacture.