The Jute Industry: From Seed to Finished Cloth by Peter Kilgour
The Jute Industry: From Seed to Finished Cloth by Peter Kilgour
The five main fibres used for ordinary textile purposes are cotton, flax, jute, silk and wool; in this group jute has been considered in general as being of the least value, not only in regard to price, but also in regard to utility. It is only under phenomenal conditions which arise from a great upheaval such as that which took place during the world's great war from 1914 onwards that, from a commercial point of view, the extreme importance of the jute fibre and its products are fully realized.
Millions of sand bags were made from the year 1914 to the year 1918 solely for military purposes, while huge quantities of jute cloth were utilized as the covering material for food stuffs of various kinds, thus liberating the other textile fibres and cloth for equally important purposes. It is on record that in one short period of fourteen days, 150,000,000 sand-bags were collected, packed and despatched from Dundee to be used as protective elements in various ways and seats of conflict.
A glance into the records of the textile industries will reveal the fact that the jute fibre was practically unknown in these islands a hundred years ago. Unsuccessful attempts were certainly made to import the fibre into Great Britain in the latter part of the 18th century, and it has been used in India for centuries in the making of cord, twine and coarse fabrics, because the fibre is indigenous to that country. And since all the manufacturing methods there, for a considerable time were manual ones, the industry--if such it could be called--moved along slowly, providing employment only for the needs of a small section of the community on the Eastern shores.
The first small imports of jute fibre were due to the instigation of Dr. Roxburgh and the East India Company, but it was only after repeated requests that any attempt was made to utilize the samples of jute for practical experiments The fibre was so unlike any of the existing staples that those interested in textiles were not anxious to experiment with it, but ultimately they were persuaded to do so; these persistent requests for trials, and the interest which was finally aroused, formed the nucleus of the existing important jute industry.
Apart from the above-mentioned efforts, the introduction of the jute fibre into Great Britain was delayed until 1822, when the first small consignment reached Dundee--now the Western home of the jute industry. This quantity was imported into this country with the special object of having it treated by mechanical means, much in the same way as flax fibre was being treated. At this period Dundee was a comparatively important textile centre in regard to the spinning and weaving of flax and hemp; it was, in consequence, only natural that the longer, but otherwise apparently similar and coarser, jute fibre should be submitted to the machinery in vogue for the preparation and spinning of flax and hemp. When we say similar, we mean in general appearance; it is now well-known that there is a considerable difference between jute fibre and those of hemp and flax, and hence the modifications in preparation which had ultimately to be introduced to enable the jute fibre to be successfully treated. These modifications shall be discussed at a later stage.
It might be stated that while only 368 cwt. of jute fibre was reported as being shipped from Calcutta to this country in 1828, the imports gradually increased as time passed on. The yarns which were made from the fibre were heavier or thicker than those in demand for the usual types of cloth, and it was desirable that other types of cloth should be introduced so that these yarns could be utilized. About the year 1838, representatives of the Dutch Government placed comparatively large orders with the manufacturers for jute bags to be used for carrying the crop of coffee beans from their West Indian possessions. The subsequent rapid growth of the industry, and the demand for newer types of cloth, are perhaps due more to the above fortunate experiment than to any other circumstance.
By the year or season 1850-51, the British imports of jute fibre had increased to over 28,000 tons, and they reached 46,000 tons in the season 1860-61. Attention meanwhile had been directed to the possibility of manufacturing jute goods by machinery in India--the seat of the cultivation and growth of the fibre. At least such a probability was anticipated, for in the year 1858 a small consignment of machinery was despatched to Calcutta, and an attempt made to produce the gunny bags which were typical of the Indian native industry.
The great difference between the more or less unorganized hand labour and the essential organization of modern mills and factories soon became apparent, for in the first place it was difficult to induce the natives to remain inside the works during the period of training, and equally difficult to keep the trained operatives constantly employed. Monetary affairs induced them to leave the mills and factories for their more usual mode of living in the country.
In the face of these difficulties, however, the industry grew in India as well as in Dundee. For several years before the war, the quantity of raw jute fibre brought to Dundee and other British ports amounted to 200,000 tons. During the same period preceding the war, nearly 1,000,000 tons were exported to various countries, while the Indian annual consumption--due jointly to the home industry and the mills in the vicinity of Calcutta--reached the same huge total of one million tons.
The growth of the jute industry in several parts of the world, and consequently its gradually increasing importance in regard to the production of yarns and cloth for various purposes, enables it to be ranked as one of the important industries in the textile group, and one which may perhaps attain a much more important position in the near future amongst our national manufacturing processes. As a matter of fact, at the present time, huge extensions are contemplated and actually taking place in India.
* * *
Five years of devotion ended when Brynn was left at the altar, watching Richard rush to his true love. Knowing she could never thaw his cold heart, Brynn walked away, ready to start over. After a night of drinking, she woke beside the last man she should ever cross-Nolan, her brother's arch-enemy. As she tried to escape, he caught her, murmuring, "You kissed me all night. Leaving isn't an option." The world saw Nolan as cold and distant, but with Brynn, he indulged her every desire. He even bought her a whole village and held her close, his voice low, deep, and endlessly tempting, his robe falling open to reveal his toned abs. "Want to feel it?"
I was once the heiress to the Solomon empire, but after it crumbled, I became the "charity case" ward of the wealthy Hyde family. For years, I lived in their shadows, clinging to the promise that Anson Hyde would always be my protector. That promise shattered when Anson walked into the ballroom with Claudine Chapman on his arm. Claudine was the girl who had spent years making my life a living hell, and now Anson was announcing their engagement to the world. The humiliation was instant. Guests sneered at my cheap dress, and a waiter intentionally sloshed champagne over me, knowing I was a nobody. Anson didn't even look my way; he was too busy whispering possessively to his new fiancée. I was a ghost in my own home, watching my protector celebrate with my tormentor. The betrayal burned. I realized I wasn't a ward; I was a pawn Anson had kept on a shelf until he found a better trade. I had no money, no allies, and a legal trust fund that Anson controlled with a flick of his wrist. Fleeing to the library, I stumbled into Dallas Koch—a titan of industry and my best friend’s father. He was a wall of cold, absolute power that even the Hydes feared. "Marry me," I blurted out, desperate to find a shield Anson couldn't climb. Dallas didn't laugh. He pulled out a marriage agreement and a heavy fountain pen. "Sign," he commanded, his voice a low rumble. "But if you walk out that door with me, you never go back." I signed my name, trading my life for the only man dangerous enough to keep me safe.
Elena, once a pampered heiress, suddenly lost everything when the real daughter framed her, her fiancé ridiculed her, and her adoptive parents threw her out. They all wanted to see her fall. But Elena unveiled her true identity: the heiress of a massive fortune, famed hacker, top jewelry designer, secret author, and gifted doctor. Horrified by her glorious comeback, her adoptive parents demanded half her newfound wealth. Elena exposed their cruelty and refused. Her ex pleaded for a second chance, but she scoffed, "Do you think you deserve it?" Then a powerful magnate gently proposed, "Marry me?"
My husband, the Outfit’s most feared Consigliere, stood up and buttoned his suit jacket. He had just convinced a jury that Sofia Moretti was innocent. But we both knew the truth: Sofia had poisoned my mother over a spilled martini on her Valentino dress. Instead of comforting me, Dante looked at me with cold, dead eyes. "If you make a scene," he whispered, gripping my arm until it bruised, "I will bury you in a psychiatric ward so deep even God won't find you." To protect the Family alliance, he sacrificed his wife. When I tried to fight back, he drugged me at a gala. He let a private investigator take photos of me, naked and unconscious, just to have leverage to keep me silent. He paraded Sofia around our penthouse, letting her wear my dead mother’s shawl while I was banished to the staff quarters. He thought he had broken me. He thought I was just a nurse’s daughter he could manage. But he made a fatal error. He didn't read the "committal forms" I handed him to sign. They were divorce papers, transferring his assets to me. And the night of the yacht party, while he toasted to his victory with my mother's killer, I left my wedding ring on the deck. I didn't jump to die. I jumped to be reborn. And when I resurfaced, I made sure Dante Russo burned for every sin.
I gave him three years of silent devotion behind a mask I never wanted to wear. I made a wager for our bond-he paid me off like a mistress. "Chloe's back," Zane said coldly. "It's over." I laughed, poured wine on his face, and walked away from the only love I'd ever known. "What now?" my best friend asked. I smiled. "The real me returns." But fate wasn't finished yet. That same night, Caesar Conrad-the Alpha every wolf feared-opened his car door and whispered, "Get in." Our gazes collided. The bond awakened. No games. No pretending. Just raw, unstoppable power. "Don't regret this," he warned, lips brushing mine. But I didn't. Because the mate I'd been chasing never saw me. And the one who did? He's ready to burn the world for me.
The rain assaulted the glass, mirroring the storm inside me. For three years, I, Vivian Sterling, played the perfect wife to Julian Kensington, draining my life. The antique clock ticked, a reminder of time lost. Then, I found it: a blonde hair on Julian's suit, reeking of Midnight Rose, and a text, ""Candy: You left your cufflinks on my nightstand. I'm already missing you."" My world shattered, revealing his betrayal. This was just the beginning. I exposed Julian's fraud and his family's violent plots, surviving assassination. But their malice stole my past. Then Alexander Vance, my protector, uncovered a terrifying truth: my birth mother was alive, held captive by a shadowy order. My life was a lie, built to shield me from my dangerous bloodline. I found strength and love with Alexander, the man who walked into fire for me. Yet, as I prepared to rescue my mother, a new life stirred within me, a secret threatening to complicate the impending war.
© 2018-now CHANGDU (HK) TECHNOLOGY LIMITED
6/F MANULIFE PLACE 348 KWUN TONG ROAD KL
TOP
GOOGLE PLAY