Beyond The Tracks – How Railroading Impacted American Workwear Pt. 1

Wabash, Overalls, and blouses, oh my. We take a deep dive into American railroading workwear in this two-part article.

Zach Liollio |  December 8

A single, short shriek of the whistle pierces the air. Even from your position at the end of the train, the sound echoes into the hills and rings in your ears — it’s a call to action. “Take this with you, greenhorn, You’ll need it.” The conductor stoops down behind the car’s blazing cast iron stove and hands you a length of hickory wood about as long as an axe handle.Your job is to clamber over each successive railroad car and apply the brakes. Every half-turn of a cast iron wheel, connected by a long stem to the mechanism below, further applies the brake shoes.

The wooden brake club now in your grip is for added leverage on the especially obstinate brake wheels, which happens to be all of them.  You’re a railroad brakeman after all, somewhere on the spectrum between man and machine. Air brakes are a novelty at this time in history, and stopping a speeding train requires several sets of human hands.The cutting wind feels frigid even on the mildest of days as you walk atop a boxcar. Your denim jacket is buttoned as tight as the fit of your quilted wool cap to keep the cold away. As you bend down to turn the final brake wheel, the sensation of a rubber ball slamming into the back of your shoulders nearly knocks your cap off! The tell-tales!Ropes with knots dangle above the tracks to warn brakemen that a tunnel is approaching. Ducking down to avoid the stone portal, you become enveloped by black exhaust smoke as the train passes through a mountain. Your indigo cotton coverings turn to the color of graphite as cinders are brushed away.

This 1890 engraving of railroad brakeman, by H. W. Peckwell, is given an ironic title. Image via Wikipedia.

Rail travel was a rugged adventure in its infancy and coming of age. Like all great technological revolutions, it held the public’s interest and made many heroes and villains alike. As industry and advertising changed the American landscape, railroading’s impact on modern workwear was nothing short of immense.

The dirty rigors of the job, which were drastically different from the agricultural origins that many people were familiar with, created a mode of dress all its own. While many of the fabrics and garments existed before the transportation boom of the late 19th century, railroad workers popularized certain fashions among the general public (where their association with the former became indelible).Work-suits of blue denim bib overalls, Wabash stripe chore coats, and cloth “engineer” caps had reached the pinnacle of popular imagery by the early 1900s.

“The Fast Mail” (1871) recreates a passing train as it snags a bag of mail on the fly. The blue-clad engineer is vaguely suggested, by a single black line, to be wearing a short work jacket. The boy on the left wears a “roundabout” jacket, which was one influence on the modern Levi Strauss equivalent. Image via The Library of Congress.

An Instrument of War and Peace

In 1861, William C. Russell sketched an ironclad “railroad battery” that was built to protect workers during the American Civil War. Image via Wikipedia.

Railroads not only changed fashion, but they changed the physical American landscape forever. Some historians define the completion of the Transcontinental Railroad in 1869 as the 

19th-century equivalent of the moon landing

. This massive undertaking came roughly forty years after the first commercially viable railroads sprang up. Inspiration had been imported from the United Kingdom where steam locomotion was rapidly replacing horse-drawn trams.

On both continents, the early days were marked by danger and massive financial risk. Workers brought the dreams of these tycoons to life. Many of these laborers came from across the globe and sought economic and social mobility. It was thus in North America, where vast natural resources remained unexplored, that “robber barons” ran free and financed a veritable iron blanket woven from rails.

The single greatest expansion of early railroads wasn’t purely economic but spurred by deadly warfare. The American Civil War (1861-1865) underscored the importance of industry and logistics on the modern battlefield. The Union faction, made predominantly of states in the northern U.S.,  sought to capitalize on an early lead in equipment and track construction.At the war’s start, they controlled 70% of the existing rail network. A “railroad war” took shape. Armored trains and daring raids behind enemy lines foreshadowed tactics to come in the next century as transportation won the Union a bloody victory. The American Civil War even gave rise to the first train robbers; hardened veterans of the conflict who would later become folk heroes and villains simultaneously.Despite the bloodletting occurring in the pastoral hills outside of the nation’s capital, The Pacific Railway Act of 1862 was signed and set the stage for a postwar boom. This act had its roots in a prewar proposal, which became a political crux even before Union and Confederate forces took the battlefield. War veterans, African Americans, and newly arrived immigrants would bring the Transcontinental Railroad to fruition after years of planning and construction.Like a surgical suture, the route closed the open wound left by civil war. However, a new period of conflict was just beginning. Labor, outlaws, Native Americans, and even rival railroad enterprises would come to clash over this burgeoning industry and capture the popular imagination for years to come. In the cases of competing companies, it sometimes devolved into instances of corporate armed conflict.As the construction boom continued in the U.S., the Canadian Pacific Railway was completed in 1885 to span the wilderness and compel western settlement. Fortunes were made-and-lost in endless repetition, but the spirit of this wild era endured into the 20th century.

Published in 1879, “The Colossus of (Rail) Roads” is a political cartoon that lampoons the power held by tycoons like William Henry Vanderbilt (center) during The Gilded Age. Image via Wikipedia.

“Be On Time, Or We’re Leaving the Rails”

Railroad technology benefited from innovation in other industrial fields and vice-versa. Expansion emphasized mass production, especially when it came to equipping a growing workforce. Steel and petroleum were emerging markets that were now accessible thanks to the ability to move vast quantities of these products — both the raw materials required and the finished goods.Greater demand was made for heavier trains and the need for upgraded tracks. A better track meant that higher speeds could be reached. The need for speed and an insatiable appetite for freight was then designed into larger locomotives and rolling stock (i.e. “railcars” or “wagons”), many of which were purpose-built based on their owners’ specific needs.

An illustration of the April 1900 wreck in which “Casey” Jones entered denim-clad lore. He ordered his fireman (the individual responsible for feeding the engine fuel) to bail out just before the impact. Jones was the only death. Image via Reddit.

Despite all of these advancements, the danger remained for workers 

and

 passengers. Safety appliances such as air brakes and automatic couplers wouldn’t become 

required by American law

 until 1900. Even after safety became a public concern, some railroaders were martyred for their blue-collar heroics while trying to adhere to the strict timetables imposed by their companies. Mail and passenger trains were always given top priority for scheduling while running late was a fireable offense.

One such folk hero, locomotive engineer 

“Casey”

Jones

, 

became immortalized in song

 after giving his life to prevent a deadly collision between his passenger train and a stalled freight. He was the only one to die in the thunderous crash. The song bearing his name has been recorded by numerous artists and continues to be a bluegrass and folk music staple. Meanwhile, “The Wreck of Old ’97” features engineer “Steve” Broady.

This hit ballad, based on a 1903 accident, is a graphic account of the number 97 mail train, which lost control of its brakes and careened from a trestle at high speed. Emerging at the dawn of the recording and 

 industries, this subgenre kept the drama of railroading fresh in the American imagination.

The Increasing Need for Workwear

A set of tintypes showcasing early railroad uniforms from the late 19th century. The badges seem to indicate that they work for the Long Island Railroad (L.I.R.R.). Image via Live Auctioneers.

It stands to reason then, that with demanding work, the clothing worn by railroaders would also be purpose-built. While specific jobs on the railroad required different dress, “trainmen” (the train crews), “shopmen” (craftsmen and mechanics), and the “section gangs” (track workers) were in the thick of the smoke, soot, and soil.

Workwear uniforms evolved with different companies ordering entire ensembles of matching fabrics and prints. By 1900, this level of uniformity for trainmen became common practice. For a detailed example of this, see “Wabash Stripe” section below.

A workwear uniform “suit” on the railroad, ca. 1910. Image via superfuture/Duke Mantee.

However, one common exception to trainmen was the passenger train conductor. They had an air of authority with the public and wore a wool suit with a badge which was superseded by formal uniforms later in the 19th century. There were also other positions where daily dress varied based on seniority and company policy. 

1830 to 1870

The 1850s. At left, the archetypical look of early railroad workers mimicked other laborers; an overshirt, featuring at least one external pocket, with his sleeves rolled-up revealing a flannel undershirt. Image via The Library of Congress

Prior to the American Civil War, work clothing came from a variety of sources. Cottage industries produced small batches of garments meant for local consumption. With railroading in its infancy, though quickly learning to crawl, its agents dressed as other blue-collar workers did in their time.

However, overalls were not symbolic of the industry yet. Low-rise overalls (pictured below) — a pattern that starkly contrasts today’s bib overalls — were evidently a popular choice to protect against grease and grime in a variety of trades.The cloth was inexpensive and typically bleached or left undyed. Union engineer troops, many of whom were engaged in railroad construction and repair during The Civil War, were prescribed overalls of, “…white or dark colored cotton or linen canvass[sic.]…” to be used while performing manual labor.As 1870 drew nearer, the length of overall bibs generally increased and the wearer’s shirt was more protected.

These unidentified tradesmen are showcasing some typical low-rise overalls of the mid-19th century. Image via South Union Mills.

Corduroy

 cloth swathed the droves of Irish immigrants that flocked to America during the mid-19th century. This stout cotton weave had already been a staple for centuries.

It was especially indicative of the working class in the United Kingdom, and its commonality among Irish farmers and railway workers was established before they even left Europe. Once on American shores, there was a modest market for corduroys.

Canvas and denim, which were more conducive to mass production, would soon jointly rule over America. However, the material lives on in song as this Fenian shanty recounts,

Like the stories of brave locomotive engineers, “Pat Works on the Railway/Railroad” has left an indelible mark on the American repertoire. 

Andrew J. Russell captured these workers in front of the paymaster’s car near Blue Creek, Utah Territory in 1869. Notice the dark overshirts, with white trimmed plackets, worn by several of them. Do you think they shop at the same store? Image via Utah State University Digital Exhibits.

Akin to corduroy in the U.K., red wool undershirts and overshirts represented the spirit of 

labor in American art

 during the period but with a sort of romantic twist. The intrepid miners who flocked to the California gold fields in the early 1850s purchased some bodacious specimens from opportunistic vendors.

These garments were thus an early stylistic fad for commercial workwear. Overshirts–with button plackets, patch pockets, and ornate trim–would help inspire the short work jackets of the following decades (along with the adolescent “roundabout” jacket). Like their full-button counterparts, this outerwear protected the underclothing from soiling but was worn like most shirts of the day; tucked into the trousers.

In colder weather, a coat or overcoat could be worn on top. While homespun examples exist, mass-produced versions of various colors and fabrics 

can be seen during the construction of the Transcontinental Railroad

 in the 1860s.

Images via Jim’s Love of History.

1870 to 1890

The Great Railroad Strike of 1877 was a highly publicized clash between railroad management and labor. Sketched here, the fifth man from the right is a typical railroader of the day. Note the short work jacket and cylinder cloth cap. Image via ThoughtCo.

The era after the American Civil War was marked by industrialized workwear in a form recognizable to modern fashion. Short jackets or “blouses” entered the wardrobe after moving from farm to mining camp.

A detail cropped from Thomas Wood’s painting “The Yankee Peddler” (1872). The seated farmer is wearing a precursor to Strauss’ mass produced jacket. Image via the Terra Foundation.

Other laborers, including those working on railways, adopted this style because it allowed freedom of motion while keeping their clothes clean. The story of 

Jacob Davis and Levi Strauss

 is well known, but one overlooked impact that they had on fashion was consistency.

Their product tapped a growing market of industrial and railroad workers who valued it for the same reasons as their mining counterparts in California and Nevada; they were readily available. With this, the pleated short jacket and matching, riveted 

“

waist overalls

“

 (read: jeans) became a mainstay for decades after 1873.

Image via Shit Denim on Tumblr

A surviving 1870s ‘commercial’ pleated jacket found by Michael Harris. Image via Loomstate.

Early commercial work jackets came in select fabrics with denim and canvas often appearing, though stripes and checks also exist in historical photos. Many vendors tried to enter the patented-workwear boom with a plethora of reinforcements. 

Patent and copyright infringements were rampant

 in the 19th century, and copycats also abounded.

Early work jackets on Idaho Miners, 1886, via Shit Denim on Tumblr

Thanks to commercialization, a railroader in San Francisco could now share the same look as one working in Omaha as trains took Strauss’ inventions to far-flung stores. 

Mechanic’s Caps

Driving the last spike on the Canadian Pacific Railway, 1885. An amalgam of bowlers, caps, and other headwear can be seen. Image via The Canadian Encyclopedia.

Headwear also began to take a different shape. With fur felt hats, variations of the domed “bowler” or “derby” grew overwhelmingly popular even in the wild, cowboy hat-sporting West.

In addition, wide-brimmed hats weren’t always practical indoors and in locomotive railway cabs. Instead, an old staple had to be revised. Cloth caps of various descriptions, sometimes called 

“mechanic’s caps”

 or 

“wheel caps”

 by modern scholars, were popular even before the American Civil War.

These ca. 1860s men are theorized to be either railroad workers or ship stokers, but there is no written record to confirm that. They all wear what appear to be cotton or linen sack coats (read: engineer’s coats) with mechanic’s caps. Image via International Military Antiques.

Their provenance among the mechanically inclined grew during the latter 19th century. New variations saw stout cylindrical crowns with brims that could be sharply angled. When they were adopted by the railroads as part of standardized uniforms, these caps took on legendary status as railroad memorabilia. The phrase “engineer’s hat” is often used to describe them, especially when made from blue-and-white striped fabrics.

A typical railroad uniform hat of ca. 1900. This one was made by Carhartt and appears to have a Wabash Stripe accent. On the right is a LaRose Hat Co. version. Images via Pinterest/Martin Whiten and LaRose Hat Co.

1890 to 1910

A section gang in Laurens County, South Carolina, ca. 1900-1910. Many African-Americans seized the opportunity to work on the railroad after The American Civil War. Despite the inherent job hazards, it represented economic and social mobility. Overalls are in full effect. Image via Pieces of Our Past.

The turn of the century was defined by novelty. Novel ideas, novel technology, and even novel fashion. The World’s Columbia Exposition of 1893, held in Chicago, was a tour-de-force of modernity and 

railroads were at the forefront

. A decade later, Stormy Kromer was no exception to this, with headwear built on the legacy of railroad caps… with inspiration from baseball.

On the left, a Stormy Kromer (or similar earband hat) dated ca. 1900 compared to the modern rendition on the right. Images via The Henry Ford and Stormy Kromer.

The distinct character of an emerging sport would impress an idea upon a locomotive engineer and semi-pro baseballer named George “Stormy” Kromer. 

As the story goes

, he had his wife sew an earband onto a standard baseball cap. This kept the fit snug and his ears warm, both of which are important on a speeding rail locomotive during the Winter. The enterprise was formed in 1903 and Stormy Kromer is still supplying wool caps to this day.

This catalog dates to 1919 and has listed the Kromer pattern as the “Railroader,” owing to its heritage. Image via Riveted.

Engineer/Chore Coat

The versatile engineer’s or chore coat was inspired by the cut of men’s suit coats of the day. It was the marriage of the practical short work jacket and contemporary everyday fashion. The length of these coats, along with some examples having notched collars, share strong similarities to their wool counterparts.

Three railroad workers wearing wool sack coats, circa 1883, via The Henry Ford.

The use of denim and canvas made it a protective piece of outerwear that wouldn’t encumber its wearer. Evidence of the interplay between everyday fashion and workwear also has military roots dating to The American Civil War. The inexpensive, simple, and once-civilian “sack coat” (pictured above) became the standard military coat for the Union Army, which also bolstered its commercial popularity. Workwear makers were then keen to put a railroad spin on it.

An unlined version, made from denim or another weave of cotton, was perfect for ensuring uniformity among train crews while staying practical for their job environment. In fact, chore coats in period advertising are sometimes just called “sack coats.” As a traditional symbol of the railroad, they’re appropriately labeled “engineer’s coats” by modern makers.

Mexican-American track workers form part of a section gang ca.1900. Like their American and Canadian counterparts, Mexican “traqueros” held positions of cultural importance. During the Mexican Revolution in the 1910s, railroaders played critical roles in a dangerous landscape. Image via Daily Herald.

Overalls were also subjected to the rigors of industrialization through endless tinkering and catalog marketing. Sophisticated graphic design helped immortalize some of the most sought-after defunct brands of today; 

Boss of the Road

, 

Finck’s

, and 

Stronghold

 just to name a select few of that particular generation.

A night watchman worked the freight yards and depots to prevent break-ins. This photo is likely early 20th century. Image via Tacoma History.

It was this iconic advertising that helped resurrect some brands. However, the term “

overalls

” in period print can sometimes be ambiguous, as the term was applied to a wide range of garments including the classic bib or “

apron

” overalls as well as modern “

jeans

.”

The term “

coveralls

” can likewise be confounding. In the first decade of the 20th century,

 “boiler suits”

 or 

“combination suits”

 were 

appearing in British trade journals

. It constituted a work jacket sewn to trousers in its simplest form–a bit of ingenuity that would inspire the concept of modern coveralls in the 1910s.

So, it’s a little easier to see why makers were excited to use illustrations and photos for their products. A picture is worth a thousand (synonymic) words. There would be no question as to what they were mailing you!

An ad from September 1900 espouses the chore coat’s international appeal to North American railroad engineers. Image via Pinterest/Kareltje Koevoet.

This turn-of-the-century image epitomized the American railroader of the early 20th century. Colder weather means flannel shirts and tucking work coats into overalls. Image via Shorpy.com

Wabash Stripe: A Branding Icon is Born

Wabash Stripe overalls, boiler suits, engineer’s coats, and shirts have become the quintessential pieces for modern makers and collectors. The name most closely associated with the off-white-dots-on-indigo-cotton is J. L. Stifel & Sons, identified by their trademark boot logo.Ironically, Stifel didn’t make garments. The German immigrant and his family churned out quality fabrics on an industrial scale, especially cotton calicos. Workwear makers took note and Stifel’s reputation grew throughout the ready-made market. 

This turn-of-the-century sampler included a distinctive fabric ordered for the Wabash Railroad, middle left. Image via vintageworkwear.com.

As for the “Wabash Stripe”? The Wabash Railroad was a juggernaut of the Midwest U.S. that existed from 1837 until 1964, with a connecting line to the Canadian province of Ontario. Meanwhile, the company of Hamilton Carhartt, today known only by its founder’s surname, was established in 1889 and was flourishing by the early 1900s.A surviving fabric sampler from the first decade of the 20th century has a swatch of Stifel fabric, sampled from uniforms made by Carhartt, for the Wabash Railroad. Stripes of small white hearts imposed on indigo blue initiated a legend among workwear connoisseurs. The association between the stippled cotton print and the railroad became inseparable. 

Some variations of the Wabash Stripe. Image via superfuture/Duke Mantee.

Coincidentally, train nerds will remember that the railroad’s slogan, “Heart of America,” also appeared in ads with hearts illustrated therein. However, the Stifel pattern consisting of miniature hearts was probably the product of some wild phonetics used in advertising; “Car-In-Heart” and opposed to Carhartt. This early campaign propelled the brand. Hearts can even be seen in the shape of the buttons on some of the coats that they produced! Whatever the exact reason for designing small hearts into the pattern, the unique printed fabric has been reincarnated through many variations in the last 120 years–definitely in the form of dots. 

Wabash Stripe caps and Carhartt hearts (note the coat buttons, center back). This picture purportedly shows railroad workers in Montana, ca. 1900. Image via Chris LaRose.

The Freewheelers interpretation of the engineer’s coat is identical to some of the patterns above. Image via Redcast Heritage. 

Modern Makers

Freewheelers

The Freewheelers “Wigwag” Indigo Wabash Work Jacket is an ode to one of the finest pieces of outerwear ever produced in blue-and-white; the engineer’s coat. Fit-wise, it’s more contemporary with a slimmer silhouette.The use of the aforementioned historic is a bit cheeky considering it’s a modernized pattern and not strictly a reproduction. However, there is no denying that research was done to bring the subtle details to life, such as the chest pocket stitching that harkens back to 1900.

Available for $332 from Corlection. 

LaRose Hat Co.

Chris LaRose of LaRose Hat Co. is a one-man powerhouse for resurrecting turn-of-the-century workwear. The attention to detail and research that he invests into his line of engineer hats has even attracted the business of multiple historic, operating railroads! Recent projects have expanded into chore coats and sack coats with likewise meticulous detail. Chris’ focus is individualized custom orders as each cap is sewn one at a time, though for corporate clients he has produced small batches. Several engineer hat variations are listed on his website and it’s up to the buyer to select the fabric and thread such as this exemplary Wabash example.

Available to order on a custom basis from LaRose Hat Co. 

Levi’s

Overalls for the era discussed in this article are exceedingly difficult to find, but the LVC Lot 66 Bib Overall provides a tantalizing taste of an early 20th-century pattern, with the narrow “scale pocket” being one of its most definitive features.Something to be said about LVC is that they have a clothing archive from which patterns and manufacturing insights can be gleaned for maintaining the fidelity of their premium production runs. In the author’s experience, quality and detail are decent with their historical pieces. Levi’s “been there, done that” with denim, overalls, and many other pieces of workwear.

Available for $350 from Seams Boutique.

The Rite Stuff

The Bulldog Wabash Work Shirt was inspired by a 1920s postcard, but would not be out of place even 20 years prior; the chinstrap idea has roots in that previous pivotal era. The front placket pull-over style and single chest pocket are also hallmarks of a time before full-button workshirts reigned. Wabash cotton fabric of 5.7 ounces makes a handsome shirting-weight weave.

Available for $251 from Redcast Heritage ($225.90 for Heddels+ members) 

Two Cats Brand (TCB)

Minus the 1918-patented removable buttons, the TCB Cathcartt Chore Coat is a strong contender for workwear inspired by early Carhartt. This denim staple will compliment your stripes whether they’re Wabash or hickory.As with the Freewheelers coat, the use of original branding on a modern garment could be seen as heavy-handed (though the name was slightly changed). However, it should be noted that TCB draws on ideas from a wide range of decades — from the late 19th century through the postwar years — and the brand is known for its playful branding.

Available for $242 ($217.80 for Heddels+ members) from Redcast Heritage. 

Gallery

Daguerreotypist Thomas Easterly struck this 1855-dated image in Missouri. In the foreground, a seated boy gazes upon the future in the form of a shiny new locomotive. The coat he’s wearing is a precursor to the “blouse,” or short work jacket, that saw huge demand in the following decades. This particular garment was dubbed a “roundabout” and was specifically made for adolescents at play. Image via Daniel Seurer Photography.

This “occupational portrait” is purported to show 1850s-era railroad men. Note the overshirt with the rolled sleeves on the right. The man on the left may be wearing some form of a light work jacket or blouse, but it’s difficult to say. Image via Pinterest/Phil Graf.

Men pointing to damage from artillery fire, 1862. This locomotive was operated by the U.S. Military Railroad during the American Civil War. The figure standing in the cab (center of photo) may be sporting an early work jacket, but there isn’t enough of the garment visible to properly identify it. Image via Archives.gov.

A workman on the Transcontinental Railroad poses at the entrance of a tunnel that is under construction, 1869. He sports an overshirt with a trimmed placket. Rather than wool, it appears that this example is made from striped cotton “hickory fabric.” Image via Makin’ Tracks/Lynne Rhodes Mayer/Ken Vose.

At the left, a worker is dressed in matching overalls and an engineer’s coat while standing atop an overturned locomotive, ca. 1900. Image via eBay/motka.

This circa 1905 press photo shows a staged melee between two hobos. The lower man appears to be wearing an engineer’s coat of some description with patch pockets visible. The man standing on top of the two cars, wielding a brake club, holds a cap not too dissimilar from a modern baseball cap. Note the chalk hobo graffiti scrawled on the two boxcars–even a 120-years-ago, rolling stock was a magnet for artists and vandals. Image via Shorpy.com.

An unidentified section gang on a handcar, ca. 1900-1910. Image via Fine Art America.

A striking shop scene on what is likely the Reading Railroad, ca. 1910. Every known shade of sepia can be seen here owning to the variety of colors, fabrics, and grime. Image via Pinterest/Ancestry.com.

This Sears, Roebuck and Co. ad from 1896 showcases “overalls” with some simple but effective illustrations. Print advertising was officially king, and reached more people than ever before. As described above, it should be noted that the term “overalls” from this period can refer to what modern makers call “jeans.” Image via witness2fashion.

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