For the raw materials were everywhere at hand. On the slopes of the mountains, enclosing like the tiers of a vast amphitheatre the city seemingly chosen by Nature to become the mis-en-scène of the glove drama, millions of wild goats fed. Already the tanners and tawers had tested the admirable quality of their skins, and those of the females in particular were found to be of the fine, soft variety, peculiarly free from flaws, so admirably adapted to the making of gloves. For the process of tawing the skins, moreover, the waters of the Isère, because of their singular purity, were incomparable. And in the city itself—its population now greatly increased by prosperity and peace—lived scores of skilled artisans and their sons, well fitted for the careful cutting and shaping of gloves; while the women, equipped with three-cornered needles, quickly became adepts in sewing gloves by hand. Other occupations, which now received special impetus in mediæval Grenoble, were the weaving of hemp textiles—for hemp was the most prolific crop of the alluvial river valleys—paper-making, and the manufacture of playing-cards; about 1630, the fruit of the vineyards on the mountain slopes, was turned into wine for exportation, and beautiful pottery and tiles were made of the rich clay deposits of the Drac. But of all these crafts, the one taking first rank from the very start, and the one which quickly identified itself with the town, was gloves. In the municipal acts, glovers often appear after 1606. In 1619 Claude Honoré, a master glover, was elected consul. And in 1664 a certain skilled workman, Jean Charpel, an artist in his line, proclaims himself glover to the king. “One sees the glovers,” observes a noted traveller of those times, “filling all the streets after 1610, and especially the _rues_ Saint-Laurent, Perrière, Très-Cloître, and the suburb, together with the curriers, tanners and tawers, and the combers of hemp.”