Gloves, Past and Present

by Willard M. Smith

In the vernacular of the trade, these skins are referred to as white-heads, black-heads and red-heads. They are thus classified in reference to the color of the hair on the heads of the animals, the bodies being black and white, red and white, or all white. However, as the head colors denote a type of skin with more or less well defined characteristics, these designations are more scientific than would appear. For glove leather the black-heads rank first in quality, the white-heads second, and the red-heads third. The black-head type, which comes principally from the African districts mentioned, is more distinctly a hair skin than the other two types, and has a tighter, firmer texture. With the white-heads, which are chiefly Arabian skins, the hair is of a more woolly character and the fibre of the skin is looser. This last is also true of the red-heads, in which these elements are even more pronounced. Certain other kinds of sheep skins—notably those found in the district between Cairo and Khartum, known as “Sudans”—have been adapted for the manufacture of mocha leather. These yield a much larger spread, coarser fibre skin than the mocha hair sheep; but when tanned by the mocha process, sudans sufficiently resemble the mocha to be sold for that article—except to the expert.

No other glove leather passes through so many different processes in tanning and dressing as does the mocha. This is chiefly due to the fact that the skins, at their source, are handled by the natives in a crude sort of way, and under the crusted, sun-dried surface there are often many defects which do not show until the skin is subjected to the tanning process. Mocha skins invariably are scratched, scarred and imperfect on the grain surface; for this reason the grain is removed. At the same time, as much of the grain strength as possible must be preserved while eliminating the imperfections.

This method, which is called “friezing,” distinguishes the mocha from the suede glove. Though in appearance, when finished, they are very similar, mocha and suede actually are extremely different in character. In the friezed mocha, the outer or wearing surface of the glove, which receives the finish, is on the grain and not on the flesh side of the leather. Friezing merely removes the grain to take the finish, thus leaving much of the strength of the outer skin—while in suede or other “undressed” finishes, this strength is entirely lacking.

The name suede is derived purely from the sueding process, and not from the kind of leather used. Skins with perfect grain usually are finished on the grain surface side and are called glacé. But many with imperfect grain are finished on the flesh side of the skin, by the sueding process. Suede, then, is exactly the reverse of mocha, in that what was the inside of the skin becomes the outside of the glove. Suede leather, obviously, is inferior in strength, if not in appearance, to the same types of skins dressed on the grain side. It has by no means the durability of mocha—though a high-grade suede strikingly resembles mocha.

Although “chamois” is not chamois, it is by no means a sham. And that the “doeskin” is most likely a eweskin is nothing to its discredit. The chamois of commerce is not the skin of the Switzerland animal known by that name, nor is the doeskin of to-day the skin of the one-time antelope. Both are sheep skins, or parts of sheep skins, tanned and dressed as chamois and doeskins. Collectors and dealers in sheep skins at their source, in some districts find it necessary, or advantageous, to split the skins edgewise, making two thinner skins. The upper part, with the grain surface, is termed a “skiver,” and the lower section a “flesher.” It is from these flesher sheepskins that the leathers commercially known as chamois and doeskin are produced.

The tanning processes of chamois are many, the most common being the oil tannage, alum and chrome. The finest selections of fleshers, split from sheepskins of the Scotch mountains, and from France, Spain and Turkey, are oil tanned and are used for the production of the washable chamois glove. Another, and comparatively recent, tannage of fleshers, is the formaldehyde process which supplies the leather commercially known as doeskin. Properly tanned for that purpose, these leathers will wash perfectly under the prescribed rules for washing. Trade in these gloves, however, has suffered from intense competition which has forced a cheap, quicker tannage, and one which will preserve the largest possible spread to the skin. And sometimes the washing quality has been sacrificed to secure a finer “face” to the leather. Tannages even are used which render the leather not washable but actually impervious to water—simply for the sake of the pleasing appearance of the skin when new. These things, coupled with the wearer’s careless disregard of proper methods of washing, have cast some measure of discredit upon what are really meritorious gloves.

But, as regards the really reputable chamois glove of to-day! In the first place, how absurd to the initiated is the question, so often asked by the customer, “Is this genuine chamois?” Think of it! An animal grown in the Swiss Alps, and, like the American buffalo, now almost extinct, is supposed by many people to produce chamois gloves for the whole, civilized world! As we have seen, “genuine chamois” is sheep or lamb skin, tanned by a simple process similar to that used on the real chamois, many, many years ago. Sheep skins give the best results; but lamb skins are used to a limited extent. The latter make finer gloves, but not so durable, as these skins scarcely can stand the hard usage this leather requires in preparation.

The entire tanning process of chamois leather calls for absolutely nothing but fish oil. No dye, no acid, no alkali goes into this leather, and thus its washing qualities are unquestioned. After the skins have remained in the vats in this oil a sufficient length of time—a month or more, as is determined by experts—they are wrung out and hung up in drying rooms, without ventilation, and a few fagots of wood kept burning. When thoroughly dry they have what is known as the “natural” or yellow color, and no two tannings come out alike in shade. When a cream color, or white, is desired, another process follows. An expert goes through the skins, selecting those that have body and strength enough to stand the severe washing they are to get. These skins are put into vats or tubs of clear water and washed “French fashion”—which means, beaten with a club—and are then wrung out again and laid on the grass in the sun to bleach.

If cream color is wanted, a day or two on the grass in the sun will suffice. But if white is desired—and it mostly is preferred—a week or ten days is required for this bleaching, depending, of course, on the weather. Good, sunshiny weather means good, white chamois leather; while a long spell of dull, cloudy weather means a poor shade of white, with plenty of white chalk rubbed into the skins to make them appear whiter. Irrespective of the sun, they will all get some chalk, however. It is interesting to note that these skins are supposed to imbibe a great deal of nourishment from the grass as they lie exposed to the sunlight. White chamois gloves, which have been put away for some time in boxes, will begin to turn back to a dull yellow; but if placed in the light, in a store or in a window, they will turn white again.

After the yellowing or bleaching process, the chamois skins—natural, cream or white—have only to go to the doler to be ready for the cutter’s knife. At the best, this glove is rather rough looking, but it is simple and artistic, and especially in keeping with the travelling or sport costume. Also, at the end of the journey, or after the out-of-door game, such a glove may be washed as easily and successfully as a pocket-handkerchief. So, its popularity is enduring.