Early Days of Glassmaking; Brookfield introduced coal

THE EARLY DAYS OF GLASSMAKING.

How Bottles Were Made in the Old Days.

Miniature Pots and Crude Methods of

Melting Glass. - A Description

of Old Time Molds.

By John R. Downer.

Furnaces, fuels, molds and methods of working green glass have their epochs, generally speaking. The little old 7-pot furnace contained pots that were crucibles, 20x20 inches, outside measure, of about a long hundred batch capacity, producing hardly enough glass to keep one many busy, one of those long days blowing larger sizes of ware. The size of the pot increased gradually until one had almost the capacity of the former entire furnace.

Rosin, in certain factories, was the only fuel for melting; others wood and rosin were used together and only in localities where first class "scheider" wood was abundant did they run on wood exclusively. That word "scheider," usually spelled and pronounced "shider," was evidently introduced by the Stangers and is in Germany the adjective applied to split wood. The best "scheider" wood in Jersey was high grade yellow pine cut in two foot lengths, seasoned and lastly dried in "arches" or ovens in the factory yard. The "scheider" was fed into the furnace through at four-inch eye in the stopper of the furnace and when powdered rosin augmented the flame it was tossed through the same aperture in spoonfuls of three or four ounces each.

Coal was introduced experimentally, by James Brookfield in the early 50's at his Honesdale factories atnd [sic] and Jerseymen hearing of it followed, notably Samuel A. Whitney of Glassboro and the Bodine brothers, John F., William H. and J. Alfred, of Williamstown. Coal and railroads came to the South Jersey factories almost together.

Concerning molds the first departure from off-hand work seems to have been to clay molds which were but round holes in the centers of heavy disks of pot clay. The modern molds of either apple tree or of "brazzly" pine also had their useful day. Full sets of clay molds survived to 1860 as an important part of a bottle factory's equipment. Metal molds entered the trade on a large scale about 1850, iron for heavier bottles and brass molds for fancy perfumery ware. The iron molds were light when worked by one man, but increased to the present massive weight through the necessities of the shop system of blowing. Startling as it may seem in these days of shops, big days' work and large earnings in the glass trade, the truth is that in early times the blower's skill was of a much higher grade than now, for devices introduced the past 60 years have really lessened individual handicraft hurrying the trade from man to machine.

The iron mold preceding the clay increased the output and lowered the list and the scheme of putting two men blowing with one finishing at the glory hole practically doubled the number of bottles per man. When Yankee quarts were made off-hand, drawn between two sticks nailed to the foot bench, finished by shears and shoved up in the bottom the good workman turned out 30 to 35 dozen a day, each bottle nearly perfect in weight, shape, height and capacity. Quart hock wines were made in clay molds, 32 dozen per day.

In clay molds 1-oz. vials were turned out 65-75 dozen a day; 4-oz., 60-65; 8-oz., 50-55. Peter Fox turned out 80 dozen of 1-oz. vials daily, but Daniel Evans and Al Monroe, the fastest workmen in the 50's, turned out respectively 105 and 100 dozen 1-oz. vials, the biggest day's work up to that date "ever made this side of the mountains."

Small ware was finished on the blowpipe, turned, stuck up and cracked off, as the old-time terms describe the operations. Larger ware was molded, stuck in a hot "punty" for finishing, and among the blowers many tools, half a century ago, was a sharp wooden sword which dipped in water and drawn around the end of the hot battle shredded it from the pipe after molding.

A blower in an ordinary green glass factory used from five to seven pipes, according to his speed, in order to always have one pipe so cool that the "millings" would snap off quickly when shoved in over the pot. These together with ring iron, shears, sword, and board strapped to his leg, made quite a kit. Old timers in the trade, such as "Uncle Bill" Trout, might give an interesting exhibition by rigging up and working in the old way.

The hours, too, were longer then than now, ten to ten and one-half, according to the time of year, for the blowers. The boys in those tedious times had the real thing in factory slavery. First, up and at the factory at 5 o'clock in the morning to get the ware out of fire ovens, made the day or even two or three days previous. Then clean out the ashes, pick up the broken glass and build a "pig pen" of "scheiders" in the center of the oven, which when burned down to coals he spreads over the bottom to heat up. Next he gets in "scheiders" from the yard to keep the oven fire, fed by himself.

When the blowers arrived at 8 o'clock the day's regular work of tending began. He shoved in the pipe, gathered "first glass," little more than a "milling," and handed it to the blower, who completed the gather. The boy gathered first glass again, on another pipe, twirling it on the chair arm until the blower finished the previous bottle and handed it over to be carried in. If larger ware the boy cracked it off at the oven and laid it up with a fork, returning to the foot bench to repeat the same movements.

If punties were used he had to keep them hot also, and for all this he got the princely salary of $4 per month from the company and $1 per month from the blower. If he tended on two blowers making smaller ware he got $8 per month, and if on three, $12 per month.

John R. Joseph, my informant, who now owns a big farm near Williamstown, says the first ten dollars of his very own he earned by gathering "first glass" ten months for George Jewitt, later manager for Moore Bros., Clayton. The other $10, earned that first year of his tending, went to his father. Boys began working in the factory when eight years old and their hours from 5 a.m. to 8 p.m., with one and one-half to two hours intermission, made them a long, long day. Quite a strong contrast to the hours the factory boys work in the present age.