“talking book” or “graphic diary.” When his visitors called and entered into conversation with him about mechanical matters, he made rapid sketches on the successive pages of the book, and entered the brief particulars and date of the conversation, together with the name and address of the visitor. So that a conversation, once begun, might again be referred to, and, when the visitor called, the graphic memoranda might be recalled without loss of time, and the consultation again proceeded. The pages of Mr. Field’s “talking books” were in many ways most interesting. They contained data that, in future years, supplied valuable evidence in respect to first suggestions of mechanical contrivances, and which sometimes were developed into very important results. I may add that Mr. Field kept these “talking books” on a shelf in front of his drawing table. The back of each volume was marked with the year to which the entries referred, and an index was appended to each. A general index book was also placed at the end of the goodly range of these graphic records of his professional life.
The completion of the working drawings of the Lambeth pumping engines occupied me until August 1831. I had then arrived at my twenty-third year. I had no intention of proceeding further as an assistant or a journeyman. I intended to begin business for my self. Of course I could only begin in a very small way. I informed Mr. Field of my intention, and he was gratified with my decision. Not only so; but he kindly permitted me to obtain castings of one of the best turning-lathes in the workshops. I knew th at when I had fitted it up it would become the parent of a vast progeny of descendants–not only in the direct line, but in planing machines, screw-cutting lathes, and many other minor tools.
At the end of the month, after taking a grateful farewell of Mr. Field and his partners, I set sail for Leith with my stock of castings, and reached Edinburgh in due time. In order to proceed with the construction of my machine tools, I rented a small piece of land at Old Broughton. It was at the rear of my worthy friend George Douglass’s small foundry, and was only about five minutes’ walk from my father’s house. I erected a temporary workshop 24 feet long by 16 feet wide.
I removed thither my father’s foot-lathe, to which I had previously added an excellent slide-rest of my own making. I also added a “slow motion,” which enabled me to turn cast-iron and cast-steel portions of my great Maudslay lathe. I soon had the latter complete and in action. Its first child was a planing machine capable of executing surfaces in the most perfect style–of 3 feet long by 1 foot 8 inches wide. Armed with these two most important and generally useful tools, and by some special additions, such as boring machines and drilling machines, I soon had a progeny of legitimate descendants crowded about my little workshop, so that I often did not know which way to turn.
[Image] My temporary workshop at Edinburgh
I had one labourer to drive the wheel which gave motion to my big lathe; but I was very much in want of some one else to help me. One day a young hearty fellow called upon me. He had come from the Shotts Iron Company’s Works in Edinburgh. Having heard of what I was about, he offered his services. When he told me that he had been bred as a millwright, and that he could handle the plane and the saw as well as the chisel and the file, I closed with him at once. He was to have fifteen shillings a week. I liked the young man very much–he was so hearty and cheerful. His name was Archibald Torry, or ” Archie,” as he was generally called during the twenty years that he remained in my service I obtained another assistant in the person of a young man whose father wished him to get an insight into practical engineering. I was offered a premium of #50 for twelve months’ experience in my workshop. I arranged to take the young man, and to initiate him in the general principles and practice of engineering. The #50 premium was a very useful help to me, especially as I had engaged the millwright. It enabled me to pay Torry’s wages during the time that he remained with me in Edinburgh. I found it necessary, however, to take in some work in the regular way of business, in order to supply me with the means of completing my proper supply of tools.
The chief of these extraneous and, I may say, disturbing jobs, was that of constructing a rotary steam-engine. Mr. Robert Steen had contrived and patented an engine of this sort. He was a dangerously enthusiastic man, and entertained the most visionary ideas as to steam power. He was of opinion that his own contrivance was more compact and simple, and possessed of more capability of producing power from the consumption of a given quantity of fuel, than the best steam-engines then in use. I warned him of his error; but nothing but an actual proof would satisfy him. He urgently requested me to execute his order.He made me a liberal and tempting offer of weekly payments for my work during the progress of his engine. He only required that I should give his invention the benefit of my careful workmanship. He considered that this would be sufficient to substantiate all his enthusiastic expectations. I was thus seduced to accept his order.
I made the requisite drawings, and proceeded with the work. At the same time my own machine tools were in progress, though at a retarded pace. The weekly payments we’re regularly made, and I was kept in a sort of financial ease. After three months the rotary engine was finished to the inventor’s complete satisfaction. But when the power it gave out was compared with that of a good ordinary steam-engine, the verdict as to consumption of fuel was against the new rotary engine. Nevertheless, the enthusiastic projector, “tho’ vanquished he would argue still,” insisted that the merits of his contrivance would sooner or later cause it to be a most formidable rival to the crank steam-engines. As he was pleased with its performances, I had no reason to be dissatisfied. I had done my part in the matter, and Mr. Steen had done his. His punctual weekly payments had assisted me in the completion of my tools; and after a few months more labour I had everything ready for starting business on my own account.
My choice lay between Liverpool and Manchester. I had seen both of these cities while on my visit to Lancashire to witness the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway. I now proceeded to visit them again. I was fortified with valuable introductions to leading men in both places. I was received by them with great kindness and hospitality. I have heard a great deal about the ingratitude and selfishness of the world. It may have been my good fortune, but I have never experienced either of those unfeeling conditions. On the whole I have found a great deal of unselfish kindness among my fellow-beings. They have often turned out of their way to do me a service; and I can never be too grateful for the unwearied kindness, civility, and generosity of the friends I met with during my stay in Lancashire.
It was a question which would be the best place to settle in– Liverpool or Manchester. I had seen striking evidences of the natural aptitude of Lancashire workmen for every sort of mechanical employment, and had observed their unsparing energy while at work. I compared them with the workmen whom I had seen in London, and found them superior. They were men of greater energy of character; their minds were more capacious; their ingenuity was more inventive. I felt assured that in either Liverpool or Manchester–the centres of commercial and manipulative energy–I could settle down with my limited capital and tools, and in course of time contrive to get on, helped by energy, self-reliance, and determination. I also found that the demand for machine-making tools was considerable, and that their production would soon become an important department of business. It might be carried on with little expenditure of capital, as the risks were small and the returns were quick. I resolved to cultivate that moderate and safe class of mechanical business, at all events at the outset.
I first went to Liverpool. I presented my letter of introduction to Mr. Roscoe, head of the Mersey Steel and Iron Company. He received me with great kindness, and gave me much good advice. I called upon Edward Berry, engineer, and also upon William Fawcett, who had received me with so much kindness on my former visit. I cannot omit mentioning also the friendly reception which I received from Dr. Sillar. He had been a medical student at Edinburgh, and had during that time met with some kindness from my father. He expressed his remembrance of it with grateful effusion; and added his personal introduction, with that of my letters, to some of the leading men in Liverpool. I may mention that Dr. Sillar was the son of Burns’s “Brother Poet” Davie, to whom the well-known “Epistle” was addressed.
Among the other well-known men to whom I was introduced at Liverpool was John Cragg, an intelligent and enterprising ironfounder. He was an extensive manufacturer of the large sugar-boiling pans used in the West Indies. He had also given his attention to the introduction of iron into buildings of different sorts. Being a man of artistic taste he had even introduced cast-iron into Gothic architecture. In order to exhibit, in an impressive form, the uses of his favourite metal, he erected at his own cost a very elegant church in the northern part of Liverpool.*
[footnote…
So far as I can recollect, the name of the church was St. James’s. It exhibited a very early introduction of iron as an important element in architectural construction. Iron was afterwards largely introduced into mills, mill gearing, and buildings generally. …]
Cast-iron was introduced, not only in the material parts of the structure, but into the Gothic columns and Gothic tracery of the windows, as well as into the lofty and elegant spire. Iron was also employed in the external ornamental details, where delicate yet effective decoration was desirable. The famous architect, Edward Blore, was the designer of the church; and the whole details of the building–of which cast-iron formed the principal material– were executed to his entire satisfaction* [footnote…
So far as I can recollect, the name of the church was St. James’s. It exhibited a very early introduction of iron as an important element in architectural construction. Iron was afterwards largely introduced into mills, mill gearing, and buildings generally. …]
My introduction to Mr. Cragg led to an acquaintance, and then to a friendship. When the ice was broken which was very soon–he told me that he was desirous of retiring from the more active part of his business. Whether he liked my looks or not I do not know; but, quite unexpectedly, he made me a very tempting offer to enter his works as his successor. He had already amassed a fortune, and I might do the same. I could only thank him most sincerely for his kindness. But, on carefully thinking the matter over, I declined the proposal. My principal reason was, that the special nature of his foundry work did not quite harmonise with my desire to follow the more strictly mechanical part of the iron business. Besides, I thought I had a brighter prospect of success before me; though I knew that I had many difficulties to contend against. Did I throw away my chances in declining the liberal proposal of Mr. Cragg? The reader will be able to judge from the following pages. But to the last* [footnote…
Mr. Cragg died in 1853, aged 84.
…] I continued a most friendly intercourse with my intended patron, while he on his part took an almost paternal interest in my progress.
After my visit to Liverpool I passed on to Manchester. I was fortunate in having introductions to some of the leading men there,–to John Kennedy, William Fairbairn, the Grant Brothers, and lastly, to that most admirable man, Benjamin Hick, engineer, Bolton. To narrate in detail all the instances of warm and hospitable kindnesses which I received from men in Lancashire, even from the outset of my career there, would fill a volume.
I first went to see my friend Edward Tootal, who had given me so kind a reception in 1830. I was again cordially received; he now promised to befriend me, which he did most effectually. I next visited John Chippendale, of the firm of Thomson, Chippendale, and Company, calico printers. I had met him at a friend’s house in London, where he had offered, if I ever visited Manchester, to introduce me to some of the best men there. I accordingly called upon him at his counting-house. It happened to be Tuesday, the market day, when all the heads of manufacturing establishments in and round Manchester met together at the Exchange between 12 and 1; and thus all were brought to a focus in a very convenient manner.
Mr. Chippendale first introduced me to Mr. John Kennedy, one of the most distinguished men in Manchester. I had a special letter of introduction to him from Buchanan of Catrine, and his partner Smith of Deanstone. I explained to him the object of my visit to Manchester, and he cordially entered into my views. He left his occupation at the time, and went with me to see a place which he thought might be suitable for my workshop. The building was new at hand–in Dale Street, Piccadilly. It had been used as a cotton mill, but was abandoned by the owner in favour of more suitable and extensive premises. It was now let out in flats for manufacturing purposes. Power was supplied to each flat from a shaft connected with a large mill up the street, the owner of which had power to spare. The flat shown to me was 130 feet long by 27 feet wide, and the rent was only #50 a year. I thought the premises very suitable, but I took a night to sleep over it. I thanked Mr. Kennedy very much for his kindness, and for the trouble which he had taken on behalf of an unknown stranger.
On this memorable day I had another introduction, through the kindness of Mr. Chippendale, which proved of great service to me. It was to the Messrs. Grant, the famous “Brothers Cheeryble” of Dickens. I was taken to their counting-house in Cannon Street, where I was introduced to Daniel Grant. Although business was at its full height, he gave me a cordial reception. But, to save time, he invited me to come after the Exchange was over and take “tiffin” with him at his hospitable mansion in Mosely Street.
There, he said, I should meet some of the most enterprising men in Lancashire. I was most happy, of course, to avail myself of his invitation. I went thither accordingly, and the first thing that Daniel did was to present me in the most cordial manner to “his noble brother William,” as he always affectionately called him. William was the head of the firm, and he, too, gave me a warm and hearty welcome. He asked me to sit beside him at the head of the table.
During dinner–for indeed it was such, being the survival of the old-fashioned one o’clock dinner of a departing age–William entered into conversation with me. He took occasion to inquire into the object of my visit to Manchester. I told him, as briefly as I could, that I intended to begin the business of a mechanical engineer on a very moderate scale, and that I had been looking out for premises wherein to commence operations. He seemed interested, and asked more questions. I related to him my little history, and told him of my desires, hopes, and aspirations. What was my age? “Twenty-six.” “That is a very young age at which to begin business on your own account” “Yes; but I have plenty of work in me, and I am very economical.” Then he pressed his questions home. “But what is your capital?” I told him that my capital in cash was #63. “What!” he said, “that will do very little for you when Saturday nights come round.” “That’s true,” I answered; “but as there will be only myself and Archy Torry to provide for, I think I can manage to get along very well until profitable work comes in.”
He whispered to me, “Keep your heart up!” With such views, he said, I was sure to do well. And if, he added, on any Saturday night I wanted money to pay wages or other expenses, I would find a credit for #500 at 3 per cent at his office in Cannon Street, “and no security.” These were his very words. What could have been more generous? I could only whisper my earnest thanks for his warm-hearted kindness. He gave me a kindly squeeze of the hand in return, which set me in a glow of gladness. He also gave me a sort of wink that I shall never forget–a most knowing wink. In looking at me he seemed to turn his eye round and brought his eyebrows down upon it in a sudden and extraordinary manner. I thought it was a mere confirmation of his kind advice to “keep my heart up!” It was not until two years after that I found, from a mutual friend, that the eye in question was made of glass! Sometimes the glass eye got slightly out of its place, and Mr. Grant had to force it in again by this odd contortion of his eyebrows, which I had translated into all manner of kind intentions. As soon as the party broke up I went to Wren and Bennett, the agents for the flat of the old mill which I had seen in Dale Street. I inspected it again, and found that it was in all respects suitable for my purpose. I may mention in passing that the flat below mine was in the occupation of a glass-cutter, whose glass-cutting lathes and grindstones were supplied with power from the same upright shaft that was to serve me in the same manner on the flat above, Encouraged by the support of William Grant, I immediately entered into a contract for the premises as a yearly tenant. Nothing could have been more happily arranged for my entering into business as a mechanical engineer and machine tool maker. The situation of the premises was excellent, being in the heart of Manchester There was a powerful crab crane, or hoisting apparatus, in the upper story, and the main chains came down in front of the wide door of my workshop, so that heavy castings or cases of machinery might be lifted up or let down with the utmost case and convenience. At the same time I was relieved from looking after the moving power and its natural accompaniment of trouble and expense in the way of fuel and attendance.
[Image] My factory flat at Manchester
When I had settled the contract for taking the place, I wrote down to Edinburgh by that night’s post to tell my father of the happy results of my visit to Manchester, and also to inform my right hand man, Archy Torry, that I should soon be with him. He was to prepare for packing up my lathes, planing machines, drilling machines, and other smaller tools, not forgetting my father’s foot lathe, of which I had made such effective use.*
[footnote…
I have still this foot-lathe in full and perfect and almost daily action. I continue to work with it now, after sixty-three years of almost constant use. It is a lathe that I duly prize and venerate, not only because it was my father’s, but also because it was, in practical fact, the progenitor, more or less directly, of all the mechanical productions of my long and active life.
…]
I soon followed up my letter. I was in Edinburgh in a few days’ time, and had all my tools packed up. In the course of about ten days I returned to Manchester, and was followed by Archy Torry and the ponderous cases of machinery and engineer’s tools. They were all duly delivered, hoisted to my flat, and put in their proper places. I was then ready for work.
The very first order I received was from my friend Edward Tootal. It was a new metallic piston for the small steam-engine that gave motion to his silk-winding machinery. It was necessary that it should be done over night, in order that his factory should be at work as usual in the morning.
My faithful Archy and I set to work accordingly. We removed the old defective piston, and replaced it by a new and improved one, made according to my own ideas of how so important a part of a steam-engine should be constructed. We conveyed it to Mr. Tootal’s factory over night, and by five o’clock in the morning gave it a preliminary trial to see that everything was in order. The “hands” came in at six, and the machine was set to work. It was no doubt a very small order, but the piston was executed perfectly and satisfactorily. The result of its easier action, through reduced friction, was soon observable in the smaller consumption of coal. Mr. Tootal and his brother were highly pleased at my prompt and careful attention to their little order, and it was the forerunner of better things to come.
Orders soon came in. My planing machine was soon fully occupied. When not engaged in executing other work it was employed in planing the flat cast-iron inking tables for printing machines. These were made in considerable numbers by Messrs. Wren and Bennett (my landlords) under the personal superintendence of Ebenezer Cowper, brother of the inventor, who, in conjunction with Mr. Applegath, was the first to produce a really effective newspaper printing machine. I had many small subsidiary jobs sent to me to execute. They not only served to keep my machine tools properly employed, but tended in the most effective way to make my work known to some of the best firms in Manchester, who in course of time became my employers.
In order to keep pace with the influx of work I had to take on fresh hands. I established a smithy down in the cellar flat of the old mill in Dale Street, so that all forge work in iron and steel might be promptly and economically produced on the premises. There was a small iron foundry belonging to a Mr. Heath, about three minutes walk from my workshop, where I had all my castings of iron and brass done with promptness, and of excellent quality. Mr. Heath very much wanted a more powerful steam-engine to drive his cupola blowing fan. I had made a steam-engine in Edinburgh and brought it with me. There it lay in my workshop, where it remained unused, for I was sufficiently supplied with power from the rotating shaft. Mr. Heath offered to buy it. The engine was accordingly removed to his iron foundry, and I received my full quota of value in castings.
Week by week my orders grew, and the flat of the old mill soon assumed a very busy aspect. By occasionally adding to the number of my lathes, drilling machines, and other engineers’ tools, I attracted the attention of employers. When seen in action they not only facilitated and economised the production of my own work, but became my best advertisements. Each new tool that I constructed had some feature of novelty about it. I always endeavoured after greater simplicity and perfectness of workmanship. I was punctual in all my engagements. The business proved safe and profitable. The returns were quick. Sometimes one-third of the money was paid in advance on receipt of the order, and the balance was paid on delivery at my own premises. All risk of bad debts was avoided. Thus I was enabled to carry on my business with a very moderate amount of capital.
My crowded workshop and the active scene it presented, together with the satisfaction my work gave to my employers, induced several persons to offer to enter into partnership with me. Sometimes it was on their own account, or for a son or relation for whom they desired an opening. But I fought shy of such proposals. It was a very riskful affair to admit as partners young men whose character for ability might be very doubtful. I was therefore satisfied to go on as before. Besides, I had the kind and disinterested offer of the Brothers Grant, which was always available, though, indeed, I did not need to make use of it. I had also the good fortune to be honoured by the friendship of Edward Lloyd, the head of the firm of Jones, Lloyd, and Co. I had some moderate financial transactions with the bank. Mr. Lloyd had, no doubt, heard something of my industry and economy. I never asked him for any accommodation; but on one occasion he invited me into his parlour, not to sweat me, but to give me some most kindly hints and advice as to the conduct of my financial affairs. He volunteered an offer which I could not but feel proud of. He said that I should have a credit of #1000 at my service, at the usual bank rate. He added, “As soon as you can, lay by a little capital of your own, and baste it with its own gravy!” A receipt which I have carefully followed through life, and I am thankful to say with satisfactory results.
Before I conclude this chapter, let me add something more about my kind friends the Brothers Grant. It is well that their history should be remembered, as the men who personally knew them will soon be all dead. The three brothers, William, Daniel, and John Grant, were the sons of a herdsman or cattle-dealer, whose occupation consisted in driving cattle from the far north of Scotland to the rich pastures of Cheshire and Lancashire. The father was generally accompanied by his three sons, who marched barefoot, as was the custom of the north country lads in those days. Being shrewd fellows, they observed with interest the thriving looks and well-fed condition of the Lancashire folks. They were attracted by the print works and cotton mills which lay by the Irwell, as it crept along in its bright and rural valley towards Manchester. When passing the works of Sir Robert Peel at Nuttal, near Bury, they admired the beauty of the situation. The thought possessed them that they would like to obtain some employment in the neighbourhood. They went together in search of a situation. It is said that when they reached the crown of the hill near Walmsley, from which a beautiful prospect is to be seen, they were in doubt as to the line of road which they should pursue. To decide their course, a stick was put up, and they agreed to follow the direction in which it should fall. The stick fell in the direction of Ramsbottom, then a little village in the bottom of the valley, on the river Irwell. There they went, and found employment.
They were thrifty, economical, and hard-working; and they soon saved money. Their savings became capital, and they invested it in a little print work. Their capital grew, and they went on investing it in print works and cotton mills.
They became great capitalists and manufacturers; and by their industry, ability, and integrity, were regarded as among the best men in Lancashire. As a memorial of the event which enabled them to take up their happy home at Ramsbottom, they caused to be erected at the top of Walmsley Hill a lofty tower, overlooking the valley, as a kind of public thank-offering for the prosperity and success which they had achieved in their new home. Their well-directed diligence made the valley teem with industry, activity, health, joy, and opulence. They never forgot the working class from which they had sprung, and as their labours had contributed to their wealth, they spared no expense in providing for the moral, intellectual, and physical interests of their work-people. Whenever a worthy object was to be achieved, the Brothers Grant were always ready with their hearty and substantial help. They contributed to found schools, churches, and public buildings, and many a deserving man did they aid with their magnanimous bounty.
I may also mention that they never forgot their first impression of the splendid position of the first Sir Robert Peel’s works at Nuttal. In course of time Sir Robert had, by his skill and enterprise, acquired a large fortune, and desired to retire from business. By this time the Grant Brothers had succeeded so well that they were enabled to purchase the whole of his works and property in the neighbourhood. They proceeded to introduce every improvement in the way of machinery and calico printing, and thus greatly added to the quality of their productions. Their name became associated with everything that was admirable. They abounded in hospitality and generosity. In the course of many long years of industry, enterprise, and benevolence, they earned the goodwill of thousands, the gratitude of many, and the respect of all who knew them. I was only one of many who had cause to remember them with gratefulness. How could I acknowledge their kindness? There was one way; it was a very small way, but I will relate it. Soon after my introduction to the Grants, and before I had brought my tools to Manchester, William invited me to join a gathering of his friends at Ramsbottom. The church built at his cost had just been finished, and it was to be opened with great eclat on the following Sunday. He asked me to be his guest, and I accepted his invitation with pleasure. As it was a very fine day at the end of May, I walked out to Ramsbottom, and enjoyed the scenery of the district. Here was the scene of the Grant Brothers’ industry and prosperity. I met many enterprising and intelligent men, to whom William Grant introduced me. I was greatly pleased with the ceremonies connected with the opening of the church.
On the Monday morning William Grant, having seen some specimens of my father’s artistic skill as a landscape painter, requested me to convey to him his desire that he should paint two pictures–one of Castle Grant, the residence of the chief of the Clan Grant, and the other of Elgin Cathedral. These places were intimately associated with his early recollections, The brothers had been born in the village adjoining Castle Grant; and Elgin Cathedral was one of the principal old buildings of the north. My father replied, saying that he would be delighted to execute the pictures for a gentleman who had given me so kindly a reception, but that he had no authentic data–no drawings, no engravings–from which to paint them; and that he was now too old to visit the places. I therefore resolved to do what I could to help him to paint the pictures.
As it was necessary that I should go to London before returning to Edinburgh to pack up my machine tools there, I went thither, and after doing my business, I embarked for Dundee by the usual steamer. I made my way from there, via Perth and Dunkeld, to Inverness, and from thence I proceeded to Elgin. I made most careful drawings of the remains of that noble cathedral. I endeavoured to include all that was most beautiful in the building and its surrounding scenery. I then went on to Castle Grant, through a picturesque and romantic country. I found the castle amidst its deep forests of pine, larch, elm, and chestnut. The building consists of a high quadrangular pile of many stories, projecting backwards at each end, and pierced with windows of all shapes and sizes. I did my best to carry away a graphic sketch of the old castle and its surroundings: and then, with my stock of drawings, I prepared to return to Inverness on foot. The scenery was grand and beautiful. The weather was fine, although after mid-day it became very hot. A thunder storm was evidently approaching. The sun was obscured by a thunder-cloud; the sky flashed with lightning, and the rain began to pour down. I was then high up on a wild looking moor, covered with heather and vast boulders.
[Image] An extemporised shower-bath
There was no shelter to be had, for not a house was in sight. I did not so much mind for my clothes, but I feared very much for my sketches. Taking advantage of the solitude, I stripped myself, put my sketches under my clothes, and thrust them into a hollow underneath a huge boulder. I sat myself down on the top of it, and there I had a magnificent shower-bath of warm rain. I never enjoyed a bath under such romantic circumstances. The thunder-clouds soon passed over my head, and the sun broke out again cheerily. When the rain had ceased I took out my clothes and drawings from the hollow, and found them perfectly dry. I set out again on my long walk to Inverness; and reached it just in time to catch the Caledonian Canal steamer. While passing down Loch Ness I visited the romantic Fail of Foyers; then through Loch Lochy, past Ben Nevis to Loch Linnhe, Oban, and the Kyles of Bute, to Glasgow, and from thence to Edinburgh.
I had the pleasure of placing in my father’s hands the sketches I had made. He was greatly delighted with them. They enabled him to set to work with his usual zeal, and in the course of a short time he was able to execute, con amore, the commission of the Brothers Grant. So soon as I had completed my sketches I wrote to Daniel Grant and informed him of the result of my journey. He afterwards expressed himself most warmly as to my prompt zeal in obtaining for him authentic pictures of places so dear to the brothers, and so much associated with their earliest and most cherished recollections.
I have already referred to the Brothers Cowper. They were among my most attached friends at Manchester. Many of my most pleasant associations are connected with them. Edward Cowper was one of the most successful mechanics in bringing the printing machine to a state of practical utility. He was afterwards connected with Mr. Applegath of London, the mechanical engineer of the Times newspaper* [footnote…
Mr. Koeig’s machines, first used at the Times office, were patented in 1814. They were too complicated and expensive, and the inking was too imperfect for general adoption. They were superseded by Mr. Edward Cowper’s machine, which he invented and patented in 1816. He afterwards added the inking roller and table to the common press. The effect of Mr. Cowper’s invention was to improve the quality and speed of printing, and to render literature accessible to millions of readers.
…]
he invented for the proprietors a machine that threw off from 4500 to 5000 impressions in the hour.
In course of time the Brothers Cowper removed the manufacture of their printing machines from London ,to Manchester. There they found skilled and energetic workmen, ready to carry their plans into effect. They secured excellent premises, supplied with the best modern machine tools, in the buildings of Wren and Bennett, about two minutes’ walk from my workshop, which I rented from the same landlords.
I had much friendly intercourse with the Cowpers, especially with Ebenezer the younger brother, who took up his residence at Manchester for the purpose of specially superintending the manufacture of printing machines. These were soon in large demand, not only for the printing of books but of newspapers. One of the first booksellers who availed himself of the benefits of the machine was Mr. Charles Knight, who projected the Penny Magazine of 1832, and sold it to the extent of about 180,000 copies weekly. It was also adopted by the Messrs. Chambers of Edinburgh, and the proprietors of the Magasin Pittoresque of Paris. The Universities of Oxford and Cambridge also used Cowper’s machine in printing vast numbers of bibles and prayer-books, thereby reducing their price to one-third of the former cost. There was scarcely a newspaper of any importance in the country that was not printed with a Cowper’s machine.
As I possessed some self-acting tools that were specially suited to execute some of the most refined and important parts of the printing machine, the Messrs. Cowper transferred their execution to me. This was a great advantage to both. They were relieved of the technical workmanship; while I kept my men and machine tools fully employed at times when they might otherwise have been standing idle. Besides, I derived another advantage from my connection with the Brothers Cowper, by having frequent orders to supply my small steam-engines, which were found to be so suitable for giving motion to the printing machines. At first the machines were turned by hand, and very exhausting work it was; but the small steam-engine soon relieved the labourer from his heavy work.
Edward frequently visited Manchester to arrange with his brother as to the increasing manufacture of the printing machines, and also to introduce such improvements in the minor details as the experience and special requirements of the printing trade suggested. It was on these occasions that I had the happy opportunity of becoming intimately acquainted with him; and this resulted in a firm friendship which continued until the close of his admirable life. The clear and masterly way in which, by some happy special faculty, he could catch up the essential principles and details of any mechanical combination, however novel the subject might be, was remarkable; and the quaint and humorous manner in which he treated all such subjects, in no small degree caused his shrewd and intelligent remarks to take a lasting hold of the memory.
On many occasions Edward Cowper gave Friday evening lectures on technical subjects at the Royal Institution, London. Next to Faraday, no one held the attention of a delighted audience in so charming a manner as he did. Like Faraday, he possessed the power of clearly unveiling his subject, and stripping it of all its complicated perplexities. His illustrations were simple, clear, and understandable. Technical words were avoided as much as possible. He threw the ordinary run of lecturers far into the shade. Intelligent boys and girls could understand him. Next to Faraday, no one filled the theatre of the Institution with such eager and crowded audiences as he did. His choice of subjects, as well as his masterly treatment, always rendered his lectures instructive and attractive. He was one of the most kind-hearted of men, and the cheerful way in which he laid aside his ordinary business to give instruction and pleasure to others endeared him to a very wide circle of devoted friends.
CHAPTER 11. Bridgewater Foundry–Partnership.
My business went on prosperously. I had plenty of orders, and did my best to execute them satisfactorily. Shortly after the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway there was a largely increased demand for machine-making tools. The success of that line led to the construction of other lines, concentrating in Manchester; and every branch of manufacture shared in the prosperity of the time.
There was a great demand for skilled, and even for unskilled labour. The demand was greater than the supply. Employers were subjected to exorbitant demands for increased rates of wages. The workmen struck, and their wages were raised. But the results were not always satisfactory. Except in the cases of the old skilled hands, the work was executed more carelessly than before. The workmen attended less regularly; and sometimes, when they ought to have been at work on Monday mornings, they did not appear until Wednesday. Their higher wages had been of no use to them, but the reverse. Their time had been spent for the most part in two days’ extra drinking.
The irregularity and carelessness of the workmen naturally proved very annoying to the employers. But it gave an increased stimulus to the demand for self-acting machine tools by which the untrustworthy efforts of hand labour might be avoided. The machines never got drunk; their hands never shook from excess; they were never absent from work; they did not strike for wages; they were unfailing in their accuracy and regularity, while producing the most delicate or ponderous portions of mechanical structures.
It so happened that the demand for machine tools, consequent upon the increasing difficulties with the workmen, took place at the time that I began business in Manchester, and I had my fair share of the increased demand. Most of my own machine tools were self-acting–planing machines, slide lathes, drilling, boring, slotting machines, and so on. When set up in my workshop they distinguished themselves by their respective merits and efficiency. They were, in fact, their own best advertisements. The consequence was that orders for similar machines poured in upon me, and the floor of my flat became completely loaded with the work in hand.
The tenant below me, it will be remembered, was a glass-cutter. He observed, with alarm, the bits of plaster from the roof coming down among his cut glasses and decanters. He thought that the rafters overhead were giving way, and that the whole of my machinery and engines would come tumbling down upon him some day and involve him in ruin. He probably exaggerated the danger; still there was some cause for fear.
When the massive castings on my floor were moved about from one part to another, the floor quivered and trembled under the pressure. The glass-cutter complained to the landlord, and the landlord expostulated with me. I did all that I could to equalise the pressure, and prevent vibration as much as possible. But at length, in spite of all my care, an accident occurred which compelled me to take measures to remove my machinery to other premises. As this removal was followed by consequences of much importance to myself, I must endeavour to state the circumstances under which it occurred.
My kind friend, John Kennedy, continued to take the greatest interest in my welfare. He called in upon me occasionally. He admired the quality of my work, and the beauty of my self-acting machinery. More than that, he recommended me to his friends. It was through his influence that I obtained an order for a high-pressure steam-engine of twenty horse-power to drive the machinery connected with a distillery at Londonderry, in Ireland. I was afraid at first that I could not undertake the job. The size of the engine was somewhat above the height of my flat, and it would probably occupy too much space in my already overcrowded workshop. At the same time I was most anxious not to let such an order pass me. I wished to please my friend Mr. Kennedy; besides, the execution of the engine might lead to further business.
At length, after consideration, I undertook to execute the order. Instead of constructing the engine perpendicularly, I constructed it lying upon its side. There was a little extra difficulty, but I managed to complete it in the best style. It had next to be taken to pieces for the purpose of being conveyed to Londonderry. It was then that the accident happened. My men had the misfortune to allow the end of the engine beam to crash through the floor! There was a terrible scattering of lath and plaster and dust. The glass-cutter was in a dreadful state. He rushed forthwith to the landlord, and called upon him to come at once and judge for himself!
Mr. Wren did come, and did judge for himself. He looked in at the glass shop, and saw the damage that had been done amongst the tumblers and decanters. There was the hole in the roof, through which the end of the engine beam had come and scattered the lath and plaster. The landlord then came to me. The whole flat was filled with machinery, including the steam-engine on its side, now being taken to pieces for the purpose of shipment to Ireland. Mr. Wren, in the kindest manner, begged me to remove from the premises as soon as I could, otherwise the whole building might be brought to the ground with the weight of my machinery. “Besides,” he argued, “you must have more convenient premises for your rapidly extending business.” It was quite true. I must leave the place and establish myself elsewhere.
The reader may remember that while on my journey on foot from Liverpool to Manchester in 1830, I had rested myself for a little on the parapet of the bridge overlooking the canal near Patricroft, and gazed longingly upon a plot of land situated along the canal side. On the afternoon of the day on which the engine beam crashed through the glass-cutter’s roof, I went out again to look at that favourite piece of land. There it was, unoccupied, just as I had seen it some years before. I went to it and took note of its dimensions. It consisted of about six acres. It was covered with turf, and as flat and neat as a bowling-green. It was bounded on one side by the Bridgewater Canal, edged by a neat stone margin 1050 feet long, on another side by the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, while on a third side it was bounded by a good road, accessible from all sides. The plot was splendidly situated. I wondered that it had not been secured before. It was evidently waiting for me!
I did not allow the grass to grow beneath my feet. That very night I ascertained that the proprietor of this most beautiful plot was squire Trafford, one of the largest landed proprietors in the district. Next morning I proceeded to Trafford Hall for the purpose of interviewing the Squire. He received me most cordially. After I had stated my object in calling upon him, he said he would be exceedingly pleased to have me for one of his tenants. He gave me a letter of introduction to his agent, Mr. Thomas Lee, of Princes Street, Manchester, with whom I was to arrange as to the terms. I was offered a lease of the six acre plot for 999 years, at an annual rent of 1 3/4d per square yard. This proposal was most favourable, as I obtained the advantage of a fee-simple purchase without having to sink capital in the land. All that I had to provide for was the annual rent.
My next step in this important affair was to submit the proposal to the judgment of my excellent friend Edward Lloyd, the banker. He advised me to close the matter as soon as possible, for he considered the terms most favourable. He personally took me to his solicitors, Dennison, Humphreys, and Cunliffe, and introduced me to them. Mr. Humphreys took the matter in hand. We went together to Mr.Lee, and within a few days the lease was signed and I was put into possession of the land upon which the Bridgewater Foundry was afterwards erected.* [footnote…
I called the place the Bridgewater Foundry as an appropriate and humble tribute to the memory of the first great canal maker in Britain the noble Duke of Bridgewater. My ground was on the first mile of the Bridgewater Canal which the Duke had constructed under the superintendence of Brindley, so that it might well be considered, in an Engineering sense, “classic ground.” …]
I may mention briefly the advantages of the site. The Bridgewater Canal, which lay along one side of the foundry communicated with every waterway and port in England whilst the railway alongside enabled a communication to be kept up by rail with every part of the country. The Worsley coal-boats came alongside the wharf, and a cheap and abundant supply of fuel was thus insured. The railway station was near at hand, and afforded every opportunity for travelling to and from the works, while I was at the same time placed within twenty minutes of Manchester.
Another important point has to be mentioned. A fine bed of brick-clay lay below the surface of the ground, which supplied the material for bricks. Thus the entire works may be truly said to have “risen out of the ground;” for the whole of the buildings rested upon the land from which the clay below was dug and burned into bricks. Then, below the clay lay a bed of New Red Sandstone rock, which yielded a solid foundation for any superstructure, however lofty or ponderous.
As soon as the preliminary arrangements for the lease of the six acre plot had been made, I proceeded to make working drawings of a temporary timber workshop; as I was anxious to unload the floor of my flat in Dale Street, and to get as much of my machinery as possible speedily removed to Patricroft. For the purpose of providing the temporary accommodation, I went to Liverpool and purchased a number of logs of New Brunswick pine. The logs were cut up into planks, battens, and roof-timbers, and were delivered in a few days at the canal wharf in front of my plot. The building of the workshops rapidly proceeded. By the aid of some handy active carpenters, superintended by my energetic foreman, Archy Torry, several convenient well-lighted workshops were soon ready for the reception of my machinery. I had a four horsepower engine, which I had made at Edinburgh, ready to be placed in position, together with the boiler. This was the first power I employed in starting my new works.
I must return for a moment to the twenty horse-power engine, which had been the proximate cause of my removal from Dale Street. It was taken to pieces, packed, and sent off to Londonderry. When I was informed that it was erected and ready for work I proceeded to Ireland to see it begin it’s operations.
I may briefly say that the engine gave every satisfaction, and I believe that it continues working to this day. I had the pleasure of bringing back with me an order for a condensing engine of forty horse-power, required by Mr. John Munn for giving motion to his new flax mill, then under construction. I mention this order because the engine was the first important piece of work executed at the Bridgewater Foundry.
This was my first visit to Ireland. Being so near the Giant’s Causeway, I took the opportunity, on my way homewards, of visiting that object of high geologic interest, together with the magnificent basaltic promontory of Fairhead. I spent a day in clambering up the terrible-looking crags. In a stratum of red hematite clay, underneath a solid basaltic crag of some sixty feet or more in thickness, I found the charred branches of trees–the remains of some forest that had, at some inconceivably remote period, been destroyed by a vast out-belching flow of molten lava from a deep-seated volcanic store underneath.
I returned to Patricroft, and found the wooden workshops nearly finished. The machine tools were, for the most part, fixed and ready for use. In August 1836 the Bridgewater foundry was in complete and efficient action. The engine ordered at Londonderry was at once put in hand, and the concern was fairly started in its long career of prosperity. The wooden workshops had been erected upon the grass. But the sward soon disappeared. The hum of the driving belts, the whirl of the machinery, the sound of the hammer upon the anvil, gave the place an air of busy activity. As work increased, workmen increased. The workshops were enlarged. Wood gave place to brick. Cottages for the accommodation of the work-people sprang up in the neighbourhood; and what had once been quiet grassy fields became the centre of a busy population.
[Image] Bridgewater Foundry. From a sketch by Alexander Nasmyth.
It was a source of vast enjoyment to me, while engaged in the anxious business connected with the establishment of the foundry, to be surrounded with so many objects of rural beauty. The site of the works being on the west side of Manchester, we had the benefit of breathing pure air during the greater part of the year. The scenery round about was very attractive. Exercise was a source of health to the mind as well as the body. As it was necessary that I should reside as near as possible to the works, I had plenty of opportunities for enjoying the rural scenery of the neighbourhood. I had the good fortune to become the tenant of a small cottage in the ancient village of Barton, in Cheshire, at the very moderate rental of #15 a year. The cottage was situated on the banks of the river Irwell, and was only about six minutes’ walk from the works at Patricroft. It suited my moderate domestic arrangements admirably.
The village was surrounded by apple orchards and gardens, and situated in the midst of tranquil rural scenery. It was a great treat to me, after a long and busy day at the foundry, especially in summer time, to take my leisure walks through the green lanes, and pass the many picturesque old farmhouses and cottages which at that time presented subjects of the most tempting kind for the pencil. Such quiet summer evening strolls afforded me the opportunity for tranquil thought. Each day’s transactions furnished abundant subjects for consideration. It was a happy period in my life. I was hopeful for the future, as everything had so far prospered with me.
When I had got comfortably settled in my cosy little cottage, my dear sister Margaret came from Edinburgh to take charge of my domestic arrangements. By her bright and cheerful disposition she made the cottage a very happy home. Although I had neither the means nor the disposition to see much company, I frequently had visits from some of my kind friends in Manchester. I valued them all the more for my sister’s sake, inasmuch as she had come from a bright household in Edinburgh, full of cheerfulness, part of which she transferred to my cottage.
At the same time, it becomes me to say a word or two about the great kindness which I received from my friends and well-wishers at Manchester and the neighbourhood. Amongst these were the three brothers Grant, Benjamin Hick of Bolton, Edward Lloyd the banker, John Kennedy, and William Fairbairn. I had not much leisure during the week days, but occasionally on Sunday afternoons my sister and myself enjoyed their cordial hospitality. In this way I was brought into friendly intercourse with the most intelligent and cultivated persons in Lancashire. The remembrance of the delightful evenings I spent in their society will ever continue one of the most cherished recollections of my early days in Manchester.
I may mention that one of the principal advantages of the site of my works was its connection with the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, as well as with the Bridgewater Canal. There was a stone-edged roadway along the latter, where the canal barges might receive and deliver traffic in the most convenient manner. As the wharfage boundary was the property of the trustees of the Bridgewater Canal, it was necessary to agree with them as to the rates to be charged for the requisite accommodation. Their agent deferred naming the rent until I had finally settled with Squire Trafford as to the lease of his land, and then, after he supposed he had got me into a cleft stick, he proposed so extravagant a rate that I refused to use the wharf upon his terms.
It happened, fortunately for me, that this agent had involved himself in a Chancery suit with the trustees, which eventually led to his retirement. The property then merged into the hands of Lord Francis Egerton, heir to the Bridgewater Estates. The canal was placed under the management of that excellent gentleman, James Loch, M.P. Lord Francis Egerton, on his next visit to Worsley Hall, called upon me at the foundry. He expressed his great pleasure at having us as his near neighbours, and as likely to prove such excellent customers of the canal trustees. Because of this latter circumstance, he offered me the use of the wharf free of rent. This was quite in accordance with his generous disposition in all matters. But as I desired the agreement to be put in a regular business-like form, I arranged with Mr. Loch to pay 5s. per annum as a formal acknowledgment, and an agreement to this effect was accordingly drawn up and signed by both parties.
Lord Francis Egerton was soon after created Earl of Ellesmere. He became one of the most constant visitors at the foundry, in which he always took a lively interest. He delighted to go through the workshops, and enjoy the sight of the active machinery and the work in progress. When he had any specially intelligent visitors at Worsley Hall, which was frequently the case, he was sure to bring them down to the foundry in his beautiful private barge, and lead them through the various departments of the establishment. One of his favourite sights was the pouring out of the molten iron into the moulds for the larger class of castings; when some twelve or sixteen tons, by the aid of my screw safety ladle, were decanted with as much neatness and exactness as the pouring out of a glass of wine from a decanter. When this work was performed towards dark, Lord Ellesmere’s poetic fancy and artistic eye enabled him to enjoy the sight exceedingly.* [footnote…
I had the happiness to receive the kindest and most hospitable attention from Lord Ellesmere and his family. His death, which occurred in 1857, at the early age of fifty-seven, deprived me of one of my warmest friends. The Countess of Ellesmere continued the friendship until her death, which occurred several years later. The same kindly feelings still exist in the children of the lamented pair, all of whom evince the admirable qualities which so peculiarly distinguished their parents, and made them universally beloved by all classes, rich and poor.
…]
I must here say a few words as to my Screw Safety Ladle. I had observed the great danger occasioned to workmen by the method of emptying the molten iron into the casting moulds. The white-hot fluid was run from the melting furnace into a large ladle with one or two cross handles and levers, worked by a dozen or fifteen men. The ladle contained many tons of molten iron, and was transferred by a crane to the moulds. To do this required the greatest caution and steadiness. If a stumble took place, and the ladle was in the slightest degree upset, there was a splash of hot metal on the floor, which, in the recoil, flew against the men’s clothes, set them on fire, or occasioned frightful scalds and burns.
[Image] Old foundry ladle
To prevent these accidents I invented my Safety Foundry Ladle. I applied a screw wheel, keyed to the trunnion of the ladle, which was acted on by an endless screw attached to the sling of the ladle; and by this means one man could move the largest ladle on its axis, and pour out its molten contents with the most perfect ease and safety. Not only was all risk of accident thus removed, but the perfection of the casting was secured by the steady continuous flow of the white-hot metal into the mould. The nervous anxiety and confusion that usually attended the pouring of the metal required for the larger class of castings was thus entirely avoided.
[Image] Safety foundry ladle
At the same time I introduced another improvement in connection with these foundry ladles which, although of minor importance, has in no small degree contributed to the perfection of large castings. This consisted in hanging “the skimmer” to the edge of the ladle, so as to keep back the scorae that invariably float on the surface of the melted metal. This was formerly done by hand, and many accidents were the consequence. But now the clear flow of pure metal into the moulds was secured, while the scoriae were mechanically held back. All that the attendant has to do is to regulate the inclination of the Skimmer so as to keep its lower edge sufficiently under the surface of the outflowing metal. The preceding illustrations will enable the reader to understand these simple but important technical improvements.
These inventions were made in 1838. I might have patented them, but preferred to make them over to the public. I sent drawings and descriptions of the Safety Foundry Ladle to all the principal founders both at home and abroad; and I was soon after much gratified by their cordial expression of its practical value. The ladle is now universally adopted. The Society of Arts of Scotland, to whom I sent drawings and descriptions, did me the honour to present me with their large silver medal in acknowledgment of the invention.
In order to carry on my business with effectiveness it was necessary that I should have some special personal assistance. I could carry on the whole “mechanical” department as regards organisation, designing, and construction; but there was the “financial” business to be attended to,–the counting-house, the correspondence, and the arrangement of money affairs. I wanted some help with respect to these outer matters.
When I proceeded to take my plot of land at Patricroft some of my friends thought it a very bold stroke, especially for a young man who had been only about three years in business. Nevertheless, there were others who watched my progress with special interest, and were willing to join in my adventure–though adventure it was not. They were ready to take a financial interest in my affairs. They did me the compliment of thinking me a good investment, by offering to place their capital in my concern as sleeping partners. But I was already beyond the “sleeping partner” state of affairs. Whoever joined me must work as energetically as I did, and must give the faculties of his mind to the prosperity of the concern. I communicated the offers I had received to my highly judicious friend Edward Lloyd. He was always willing to advise me, though I took care never to encroach upon his kindness. He concurred with my views, and advised me to fight shy of sleeping partners. I therefore continued to look out for a working partner. In the end I was fortunate. My friend, Mr. Thomas Jeavons, of Liverpool, having been informed of my desire, made inquiries, and found the man likely to suit me. He furnished him with a letter of introduction to me, which he presented one day at the works.
The young man became my worthy partner, Holbrook Gaskell. He had served his time with Yates and Cox, iron merchants, of Liverpool. Having obtained considerable experience in the commercial details of that business, and being possessed of a moderate amount of capital, he was desirous of joining me, and embarking his fortune with mine. He was to take charge of the counting-house department, and conduct such portion of the correspondence as did not require any special technical knowledge of mechanical engineering. The latter must necessarily remain in my hands, because I found that the “off-hand” sketches which I introduced in my letters as explanatory of mechanical designs and suggestions were much more intelligible than any amount of written words.
I was much pleased with the frank and friendly manner of Mr. Gaskell, and I believe that the feeling between us was mutual. With the usual straight forwardness that prevails in Lancashire, the articles of partnership were at once drawn up and signed, and the firm of Nasmyth and Gaskell began. We continued working together with hearty zeal for a period of sixteen successive years; and I believe Mr. Gaskell had no reason to regret his connection with the Bridgewater Foundry.
The reason of Mr. Gaskell leaving the concern was the state of his health. After his long partnership with me, he was attacked by a serious illness, when his medical adviser earnestly recommended him to retire from all business affairs. This was the cause of his reluctant retirement. In course of time the alarming symptoms departed, and he recovered his former health. He then embarked in an extensive soda manufactory, in conjunction with one of our pupils, whose taste for chemistry was more attractive to him than engine-making. A prosperous business was established, and at the time I write these lines Mr. Gaskell continues a hale and healthy man, the possessor of a large fortune, accumulated by the skilful manner in which he has conducted his extensive affairs.
CHAPTER 12. Free Trade in Ability–The Strike–Death of my Father
I had no difficulty in obtaining abundance of skilled workmen in South Lancashire and Cheshire. I was in the neighbourhood of Manchester, which forms the centre of a population gifted with mechanical instinct. From an early period the finest sort of mechanical work has been turned out in that part of England. Much of the talent is inherited. It descends from father to son, and develops itself from generation to generation. I may mention one curious circumstance connected with the pedigree of Manchester: that much of the mechanical excellence of its workmen descends from the Norman smiths and armourers introduced into the neighbourhood at the Norman Conquest by Hugo de Lupus, the chief armourer of William the Conqueror, after the battle of Hastings, in 1066.
I was first informed of this circumstance by William Stubbs of Warrington, then maker of the celebrated “Lancashire files.” The “P. S.,” or Peter Stubbs’s files, were so vastly superior to other files, both in the superiority of the steel and in the perfection of the cutting, which long retained its efficiency, that every workman gloried in the possession and use of such durable tools. Being naturally interested in everything connected with tools and mechanics, I was exceedingly anxious to visit the factory where these admirable files were made. I obtained an introduction to William Stubbs, then head of the firm, and was received by him with much cordiality when I asked him if I might be favoured with a sight of his factory, he replied that he had no factory, as such; and that all he had to do in supplying his large warehouse was to serve out the requisite quantities of pure cast steel as rods and bars to the workmen; and that they, on their part, forged the metal into files of every description at their own cottage workshops, principally situated in the neighbouring counties of Cheshire and Lancashire.
This information surprised as well as pleased me. Mr. Stubbs proceeded to give me an account of the origin of this peculiar system of cottage manufacture in his neighbourhood. It appears that Hugo de Lupus, William the Conqueror’s Master of Arms, the first Earl of Chester, settled in North Cheshire shortly after the Conquest. He occupied Halton Castle, and his workmen resided in Warrington and the adjacent villages of Appleton, Widnes, Prescot, and Cuerdley. There they produced coats of steel, mail armour, and steel and iron weapons, under the direct superintendence of their chief.
The manufacture thus founded continued for many centuries. Although the use of armour was discontinued, the workers in steel and iron still continued famous. The skill that had formerly been employed in forging chain armour and war instruments was devoted to more peaceful purposes. The cottage workmen made the best of files and steel tools of other kinds. Their talents became hereditary, and the manufacture of wire in all its forms is almost peculiar to Warrington and the neighbourhood. Mr. Stubbs also informed me that most of the workmen’s peculiar names for tools and implements were traceable to old Norman-French words. He also stated that at Prescot a peculiar class of workmen has long been established, celebrated for their great skill in clock and watchmaking; and that, in his opinion, they were the direct descendants of a swarm of workmen from Hugo de Lupus’s original Norman hive of refined metal-workers, dating from the time of the Conquest. To return to my narrative. In the midst of such a habitually industrious population, it will be obvious that there was no difficulty in finding a sufficient supply of able workmen. It was for the most part the most steady, respectable, and well-conducted classes of mechanics who sought my employment–not only for the good wages they received, but for the sake of their own health and that of their families; for it will be remembered that the foundry and the workmen’s dwellings were surrounded by the fresh, free, open country. In the course of a few years the locality became a thriving colony of skilled mechanics. In order to add to the accommodation of the increasing numbers, an additional portion of land, amounting to eight acres, was leased from Squire Trafford on the same terms as before. On this land suitable houses and cottages for the foremen and workmen were erected. At the same time substantial brick workshops were built in accordance with my original general plan, to meet the requirements of our rapidly expanding business, until at length a large and commodious factory was erected, as shown in the annexed engraving.
[Image] Bridgewater Foundry Patricroft. From a painting by Alexander Nasmyth.
The village of Worsley, the headquarters of the Bridgewater Canal, supplied us with a valuable set of workmen. They were, in the first place, labourers; but, like all Lancashire men, they were naturally possessed of a quick aptitude for mechanical occupations connected with machinery. Our chief employment of these so-called labourers was in transporting heavy castings and parts of machinery from one place to another. To do this properly required great care and judgment, in order that the parts might not be disturbed, and that the mechanics might proceed towards their completion without any unnecessary delay. None but those who have had practical acquaintance with the importance of having skilful labourers to perform these apparently humble, but in reality very important functions, can form an adequate idea of the value of such services.
All the requisite qualities we required were found in the Worsley labourers. They had been accustomed to the heaviest class of work in connection with the Bridgewater Canal. They had been thoroughly trained in the handling of all manner of ponderous objects. They performed their work with energy and willingness. It was quite a treat to me to look on and observe their rapid and skilful operations in lifting and transporting ponderous portions of machinery, in which a vast amount of costly work had been embodied. After the machines or engines had been finished, it was the business of the same workmen to remove them from the workshops to the railway-siding alongside the foundry, or to the boats at the canal wharf. In all these matters the Worsley men could be thoroughly depended upon.
Where they showed the possession, in any special degree, of a true mechanical faculty, I was enabled to select from the working labourers the most effective men to take charge of the largest and most powerful machine tools–such as planing machines, lathes, and boring machines. The ease and rapidity with which they caught up all the technical arts and manipulations connected with the effective working of these machines was extraordinary. The results were entirely satisfactory to myself, as well as to the men themselves, by the substantial rise in their wages which followed their advancement to higher grades of labour. Thus I had no difficulty in manning my machine tools by drawing my recruits from this zealous and energetic class of Worsley labourers. It is by this “selection of the fittest” that the true source of the prosperity of every large manufacturing establishment depends. I believe that Free Trade in Ability has a much closer relation to national prosperity than even Free Trade in Commodities.
But here I came into collision with another class of workmen–those who are of opinion that employers should select for promotion, not those who are the fittest and most skilful, but those who have served a seven years’ apprenticeship and are members of a Trades’ Union. It seemed to me that this interference with the free selection and promotion of the fittest was at variance with free choice of the best men, and that it was calculated, if carried out, to strike at the root of the chief source of our prosperity. If every workman of the same class went in the same rut, and were paid the same uniform rate of wages, irrespective of his natural or acquired ability, such a system would destroy the emulative spirit which forms the chief basis of manipulative efficiency and practical skill, and on which, in my opinion, the prosperity of our manufacturing establishments mainly depends. But before I proceed to refer to the strike of Unionists, which for a time threatened to destroy, or at all events to impede the spirit of enterprise and the free choice of skilful workmen, in which I desired to conduct the Bridgewater Foundry, I desire to say a few words about those excellent helpers, the foremen engineers, who zealously helped me in my undertaking from beginning to end.
I must place my most worthy, zealous, and faithful Archy Torry at the top of the list. He rose from being my only workman when I first started in Manchester, to be my chief general foreman. The energy and devotion which he brought to bear upon my interests set a high example to all in my employment. Although he was in some respects deficient in his knowledge of the higher principles of engineering and mechanical construction, I was always ready to supply that defect. His hearty zeal and cheerful temper, and his energetic movement when among the men, had a sympathetic influence upon all about him. His voice had the same sort of influence upon them as the drum and fife on a soldier’s march: it quickened their movements. We were often called in by our neighbour manufacturers to repair a breakdown of their engines. That was always a sad disaster, as all hands were idle until the repair was effected. Archy was in his glory on such occasions. By his ready zeal and energy he soon got over the difficulty, repaired the engines, and set the people to work again. He became quite famous in these cases of extreme urgency. He never spared himself, and his example had an excellent effect upon every workman under him.
Another of my favourite workshop lieutenants was James Hutton. He had been leading foreman to my worthy friend George Douglass, of Old Broughton, Edinburgh. He was fully ten years my senior, and when working at Douglass’s I looked up to him as a man of authority. I had obtained from him many a valuable wrinkle in mechanical and technical construction. After I left Edinburgh he had emigrated to the United States for the purpose of bettering his condition. But he promised me that if disappointed in his hopes of settling there, he should be glad to come into my service if I was ever in a position to give him employment. Shortly after my removal to Patricroft, and when everything had been got into full working order, I received a letter from him in which he said that he was anxious to return to England, and asking if there was any vacancy in our establishment that he might be employed to fill up. It so happened that the foremanship of turners was then vacant. I informed Hutton of the post; and on his return to England he was duly enrolled in our staff.
The situation was a very important one, and Hutton filled it admirably. He was a sound practical man, and thoroughly knew every department of engineering mechanism. As I had provided small separate rooms or offices for every department of the establishment for the use of the foremen, where they kept their memoranda and special tools, I had often the pleasure of conferring with Hutton as to some point of interest, or when I wished to pass my ideas and designs through the ordeal of his judgment, in order that I might find out any lurking defect in some proposed mechanical arrangement. Before he gave an opinion, Hutton always took a pinch of snuff to stimulate his intellect, or rather to give him a little time for consideration. He would turn the subject over in his mind. But I knew that I could trust his keenness of insight. He would give his verdict carefully, shrewdly, and truthfully. Hutton remained a faithful and valued servant in the concern for nearly thirty years, and died at a ripe old age. Notwithstanding his mechanical intelligence, Hutton was of too cautious a temperament to have acted as a general foreman or manager, otherwise he would have been elevated to that position. A man may be admirable in details, but be wanting in width, breadth, and largeness of temperament and intellect. The man who possesses the latter gifts becomes great in organisation; he soon ceases to be a “hand,” and becomes a “head,” and such men generally rise from the employed to be the employer.
Another of my excellent assistants was John Clerk. He had been for a long time in the service of Fairbairn and Lillie; but having had a serious difference with one of the foremen, he left their service with excellent recommendations. I soon after engaged him as foreman of the pattern-making department. He was a most able man in some of the more important branches of mechanical engineering. He had, besides, an excellent knowledge of building operations. I found him of great use in superintending the erection of the additional workshops which were required in proportion as our business extended. He made out full-sized chalk-line drawings from my original pencil sketches, on the large floor of the pattern store, and from these were formed the working drawings for the new buildings. He had a wonderful power of rapidity and clearness in apprehending new subjects, and the way in which he depicted them in large drawings was quite masterly. John Clerk and I spent many an hour on our knees together on the pattern store floor, and the result of our deliberations usually was some substantial addition to the workshops of the foundry, or some extra large and powerful machine tool. This worthy man left our service to become a partner in an engineering concern in Ireland; and though he richly deserved his promotion, he left us to our very great regret.
The last of our foremen to whom I shall refer was worthy Thomas Crewdson. He entered our service as a smith, in which pursuit he displayed great skill. We soon noted the high order of his natural ability; promoted him from the ranks, and made him foreman of the smith’s and forge-work department. In this he displayed every quality of excellence, not only in seeing to the turning out of the forge work in the highest state of perfection, but in managing the men under his charge with such kind discretion as to maintain the most perfect harmony in the workshops. This is always a matter of great importance –that the foreman should inspire the workmen with his own spirit, and keep up their harmony and activity to the most productive point. Crewdson was so systematic in his use of time that we found that he was able also to undertake the foremanship of the boiler-making department, in addition to that of the smith work; and to this he was afterwards appointed, with highly satisfactory results to all concerned.
So strongly and clearly impressed is my mind with the recollection of the valuable assistance which I received during my engineering life from those vicegerents of practical management at Patricroft, that I feel that I cannot proceed further in my narrative without thus placing the merits of these worthy men upon record. It was a source of great good fortune to me to be associated with them, and I consider them to have been among the most important elements in the prosperity of the Bridgewater Foundry. There were many others, in comparatively humble positions, whom I have also reason to remember with gratitude. In all well-conducted concerns the law of “selection of the fittest” sooner or later comes into happy action, when a loyal and attached set of men work together harmoniously for their own advantage as well as for that of their employers.
It was not, however, without some difficulty that we were allowed to carry out our views as to Free Trade in Ability. As the buildings were increased, more men were taken on–from Manchester, Bolton, Liverpool, as well as from more distant places. We were soon made to feel that our idea of promoting workmen according to their merits, and advancing them to improved positions and higher wages in proportion to their skill, ability, industry, and natural intelligence, was quite contrary to the views of many of our new employees. They took advantage of a large access of orders for machinery, which they knew had come into the foundry, to wait upon us suddenly, and to lay down their Trade Union law for our observance.
The men who waited upon us were deputed by the Engineer Mechanics’ Trades’ Union to inform us that there were men in our employment who were not, as they termed it, “legally entitled to the trade;” that is, they had never served a regular seven years’ apprenticeship. “These men,” said the delegates, “are filling up the places, and keeping out of work, the legal hands.” We were accordingly requested to discharge the workmen whom we had promoted, in order to make room for members of the Trades’ Union.
To have complied with this request would have altered the whole principles and practice on which we desired to conduct our business. I wished, and my partner agreed with me, to stimulate men to steadfast and skilful work by the hope of promotion. It was thus that I had taken several of the Worsley men from the rank of labourers, and raised them to the class mechanics with correspondingly higher wages. We were perfectly satisfied with the conduct of these workmen, and with the productive results of their labour. We thought it fair to them as well as to ourselves to resist the order to discharge them, and we consequently firmly refused to submit to the dictation of the Unionists.
The delegates left us with a distinct intimation that if we continued to retain the illegal men in our employment they would call out the Union men, and strike until “the grievance ” was redressed. The Unionists, no doubt, fixed upon the right time to place their case before us. We wanted more workmen to execute the advantageous orders which had come in; and they thought that the strike would put an entire stop to our operations. On engaging the workmen we had never up to this time concerned ourselves with the question of whether they belonged to the Trades’ Union or not. The only proof we required of a man was Ability. If, after a week’s experience, he proved himself an efficient workman, we engaged him.
The strike took place. All the Union men were “called out,” and left the works. Many of them expressed their great regret at leaving us, as they were perfectly satisfied with their employment as well as with their remuneration. But they were nevertheless compelled to obey the mandate of the Council. The result was that more than half of our men left us. Those who remained were very zealous. Nothing could exceed their activity and workfulness. We appealed to our employers. They were most considerate in not pressing us for the speedy execution of the work we had in hand. We made applications in the neighbourhood for other mechanics in lieu of those who had left us. But the men on strike, under orders from the Union, established pickets round the works, who were only too efficient in preventing those desirous of obtaining employment from getting access to the foundry.
Our position for a time seemed to be hopeless. We could not find workmen enough to fill our shops or to execute our orders. What were we to do under the circumstances? We could not find mechanics in the neighbourhood; but might they not, be found elsewhere? Why not bring them from a distance? We determined to try. Advertisements were inserted in the Scotch newspapers, announcing our want of mechanics, smiths, and foundrymen. We appointed an agent in Edinburgh, to whom applications were to be made. We were soon in receipt of the welcome intelligence that numbers of the best class of mechanics had applied, and that our agent’s principal difficulty consisted in making the proper selection from amongst them.
A selection was, however, made of over sixty men, who appeared in every respect likely to suit us. With true Scotch caution they deputed two of their number to visit our works and satisfy themselves as to the real state of the case. We had great pleasure in receiving these two clear-headed cautious pioneers. We showed them over the workshops, and pointed out the habitations in the neighbourhood with their attractive surroundings. The men returned to their constituents, and gave such a glowing account of their mission that we had no difficulty in obtaining the men we required. Indeed, we might easily have obtained three times the number of efficient mechanics. Sixty-four of the most likely men were eventually selected, men in the zenith of their physical powers. We made arrangements for their conveyance to Glasgow, from whence they started for Liverpool by steamer. They landed in a body at the latter port, many of them accompanied by their wives and children, and eight-day clocks! A special train was engaged for the conveyance of the whole–men, women, and children, bag and baggage–from Liverpool to Patricroft, where suitable accommodation had been provided for them.
The arrival of so powerful a body of men made a great sensation in the neighbourhood. The men were strong, respectable looking, and well dressed. The pickets were “dumfoundered.” They were brushed to one side by the fresh arrivals. They felt that their game was up, and they suddenly departed. The men were taken over the workshops, with which they appeared quite delighted. They were told to be ready to start next morning at six, after which they departed to their lodgings. The morning arrived and the gallant sixty-four were all present. After allotting to each his special work, they gave three hearty cheers, and dispersed throughout the workshops.
We had no reason to regret the results which were effected through the strike ordered by the Trades’ Union. The new men worked with a will. They were energetic, zealous, and skilful. They soon gave evidence of their general handiness and efficiency in all the departments of work in which they were engaged. We were thus enabled to carry out our practice of Free Trade in Ability in our own way, and we were no longer interfered with in our promotion of workmen who served us best. In short, we had scotched the strike; we conquered the Union in their wily attempt to get us under their withering control; and the Bridgewater Foundry resumed its wonted activity in every department.
It was afterwards a great source of happiness to me to walk through the various workshops and observe the cheerful and intelligent countenances of the new men, and to note the energetic skill with which they used their tools in the advancement of their work. General handiness is one of the many valuable results that issues from the practice of handling the variety of materials which are more or less employed in mechanical structures. At the time that I refer to, the skilful workmen employed in the engineering establishments of Scotland (which were then comparatively small in size) were accustomed to use all manner of mechanical tools. They could handle with equally good effect the saw, the plane, the file, and the chisel; and, as occasion required, they could exhibit their skill at the smith’s forge with the hammer and the anvil. This was the kind of workmen with which I had reinforced the foundry. The men had been bred to various branches of mechanics. Some had been blacksmiths, others carpenters, stone masons, brass or iron founders; but all of them were handy men. They merely adopted the occupation of machine and steam-engine makers because it offered a wider field for the exercise of their skill and energy.
I may here be allowed to remark that we owe the greatest advances in mechanical invention to Free Trade in Ability. If we look carefully into the narratives of the lives of the most remarkable engineers, we shall find that they owed very little to the seven years’ rut in which they were trained. They owed everything to innate industry, energy, skill, and opportunity. Thus, Brindley advanced from the position of a millwright to that of a canal engineer; Smeaton and Watt, from being mathematical instrument makers, advanced to higher positions,–the one to be the inventor of the modern lighthouse, the other to be the inventor of the condensing steam-engine. Some of the most celebrated mechanical and civil engineers–such as Rennie, Cubitt, and Fairbairn–were originally millwrights. All these men were many-handed. They had many sides to their intellect. They were resourceful men. They afford the best illustrations of the result of Free Trade in Ability.
The persistent aim at an indolent equality which Union men aim at, is one of the greatest hindrances to industrial progress. When the Union Delegates called upon me to insist that none but men who had served seven years’ apprenticeship should be employed in the works, I told them that I preferred employing a man who had acquired the requisite mechanical skill in two years rather than another who was so stupid as to require seven years’ teaching. The delegates regarded this statement as preposterous and heretical. In fact, it was utter high treason. But in the long run we carried our point.
It is true, we had some indenture-bound apprentices. These were pupils who paid premiums. In certain cases we could not very well refuse to take them. Some of them caused a great deal of annoyance and disturbance. They were irregular in their attendance, consequently they could not be depended upon for the regular operations of the foundry. They were careless in their work, and set a bad example to the others. We endeavoured to check this disturbing element by stipulating that the premium should be payable in six months’ portions, and that each party should be free to terminate the connection at the end of each succeeding six months. By this system we secured more care and regularity on the part of the pupil apprentices; as, while it checked inattention and irregularity, it offered a direct and substantial encouragement to zeal and industry.
But the arrangement which we greatly preferred was to employ intelligent well-conducted young lads, the sons of labourers or mechanics, and advance them by degrees according to their merits. They took charge of the smaller machine tools, by which the minor details of the machines in progress were brought into exact form without having recourse to the untrustworthy and costly process of chipping and filing. A spirit of emulation was excited amongst the lads. They vied with each other in executing their work with precision. Those who excelled were paid an extra weekly wage. In course of time they took pride, not only in the quantity but in the quality of their work; and in the long run they became skilful mechanics. We were always most prompt to recognise their progress in a substantial manner. There was the most perfect freedom between employer and employed. Every one of these lads was at liberty to leave at the end of each day’s work. This arrangement acted as an ever-present check upon master and apprentice. The only bond of union between us was mutual interest. The best of the lads remained in our service because they knew our work and were pleased with the surroundings; while we on our part were always desirous of retaining the men we had trained, because we knew we could depend upon them. Nothing could have been more satisfactory than the manner in which this system worked.
In May 1835 I had the great happiness of receiving a visit from my dear father. I was then in Dale Street, Manchester, where my floor was overloaded with the work in progress. My father continued to take a great interest in mechanical undertakings, and he was pleased with the prosperity which had followed my settlement in this great manufacturing centre. He could still see his own lathe, driven by steam power, in full operation for the benefit of his son. His fame as an artist was well known in Manchester, for many of his works were possessed by the best men of the town. I had the pleasure of introducing him to the Brothers Grant, John Kennedy, Edward Lloyd, George Murray, James Frazer, William Fairbairn, and Hugh and Joseph Birley, all of whom gave him a most cordial welcome, and invited him to enjoy their hospitality.
[Image] Alexander Nasmyth. After a cameo by Samuel Joseph
In 1838 he visited me again. I had removed to Patricroft, and the Bridgewater Foundry was in full operation. My father was then in his eightieth year. He was still full of life and intellect. He was vastly delighted in witnessing the rapid progress which I had made since his first visit. He took his daily walk through the workshops, where many processes were going on which greatly interested him. He was sufficiently acquainted with the technical details of mechanical work to enjoy the sight, especially when self-acting tools were employed. It was a great source of pleasure to him to have “a crack” with the most intelligent foremen and mechanics. These, on their part, treated him with the most kind and respectful attention. The Scotch workmen regarded him with special veneration. They knew that he had been an intimate friend of Robert Burns, their own best-beloved poet, whose verses shed a charm upon their homes, and were recited by the fireside, in the fields, or at the workman’s bench.
They also knew that he had painted the only authentic portrait of their national bard. This fact invested my father with additional interest in their eyes. Their respect for him culminated in a rather extraordinary demonstration. On the last day of his visit the leading Scotch workmen procured “on the sly” an arm-chair, which they fastened to two strong bearing poles. When my father left the works at the bell-ringing at mid-day, he was approached by the workmen, and respectfully requested to “take the chair.” He refused; but it was of no use. He was led to the chair, and took it. He was then raised and carried in triumph to my house. He was carefully set down at the little garden-gate, where the men affectionately took leave of him, and ended their cordial good wishes for his safe return home with three hearty cheers. I need scarcely say that my father was greatly affected by this kind demonstration on the part of the workmen.
His life was fast drawing to a close. He had borne the heat and burden of the day; and was about to be taken home like a shock of corn in full season. After a long and happy life, blessed and cheered by a most affectionate wife, he laid down his brushes and went to rest. In his later years he rejoiced in the prosperity of his children, which was all the more agreeable as it was the result of the example of industry and perseverance which he had ever set before them. My father untiringly continued his professional occupations until 1840, when he had attained the age of eighty-two. His later works may be found wanting in that degree of minute finish which characterised his earlier productions; but in regard to their quality there was no falling off, even to the last picture which he painted. The delicate finish was amply compensated by the increase in general breadth and effectiveness, so that his later works were even more esteemed by his brother-artists. The last picture he painted was finished eight days before his death. It was a small work. The subject was a landscape with an autumnal evening effect. There was a picturesque cottage in the middle distance, a rustic bridge over a brook in the foreground, and an old labouring man, followed by his dog, wearily passing over it on his way towards his home. From the chimney of his cottage a thin streak of blue smoke passed upward through the tranquil evening air. All these incidents suggested the idea, which no doubt he desired to convey, of the tranquil conclusion of his own long and active life, which was then, too evidently, drawing to a close. The shades of evening had come on when he could no longer see to work, and he was obliged to lay down his pencil. My mother was at work with her needle close by him; and when he had finished he asked her what he should call the picture. Not being ready with an answer, he leant back in his chair, feeling rather faint, and said, “Well, I think I had better call it Going Home.” And so it was called.
Next morning his strength had so failed him that he could not get up. He remained there for eight days, and then he painlessly and tranquilly passed away. While on his deathbed he expressed the desire that his remains should be placed beside those of a favourite son who had died in early youth. “Let me lie,” he said, “beside my dear Alick.” His desire was gratified. He was buried beside his son in St. Cuthbert’s churchyard, under the grandest portion of the great basaltic rock on which Edinburgh Castle stands. His grave is marked by a fine Runic Cross, admirably sculptured by Rhind of Edinburgh.
[Image] Monument to Alexander Nasmyth
One of the kindest letters my mother received after her great loss was one from Sir David Wilkie. It was dated 18th April 1840. “I hasten,” he said, “to assure you of my most sincere condolence on your severe affliction, feeling that I can sympathise in the privation you suffer from losing one who was my earliest professional friend, whose art I at all times admired, and whose society and conversation was perhaps the most agreeable that I ever met with. ” He was the founder of the Landscape Painting School of Scotland, and by his taste and talent has for many years taken a lead in the patriotic aim of enriching his native land with the representations of her romantic scenery; and, as the friend and contemporary of Ramsay, of Gavin Hamilton, and the Runcimans, may be said to have been the last remaining link that unites the present with the early dawn of the Scottish School of Art.” I may add that my mother died six years later, in 1846, at the same age as my father, namely eighty-two.
CHAPTER 13. My Marriage–The Steam Hammer
Before I proceed to narrate the later events of my industrial life, it is necessary to mention, incidentally, an important subject. As it has been the source of my greatest happiness in life, I cannot avoid referring to it.
I may first mention that my earnest and unremitting pursuit of all subjects and occupations, such as I conceived were essential to the acquirement of a sound practical knowledge of my profession, rendered me averse to mixing much in general society. I had accordingly few opportunities of enjoying the society of young ladies. Nevertheless, occasions now and then occurred when bright beings passed before me like meteors. They left impressions on my memory, which in no small degree increased the earnestness of my exertions to press forward in my endeavours to establish myself in business, and thereby acquire the means of forming a Home of my own.
Many circumstances, however, conspired to delay the ardently longed for condition of my means, such as should induce me to solicit some dear one to complete my existence by her sweet companionship, and enter with me into the most sacred of all the partnerships of life. In course of time I was rewarded with that success which, for the most part, ensues upon all honourable and unremitting business efforts. This cheered me on; although there were still many causes for anxiety, which made me feel that I must not yet solicit some dear heart to forsake the comforts of an affluent home to share with me what I knew must for some years to come be an anxious and trying struggle for comfort and comparative independence. I had reached my thirtieth year before I could venture to think that I had securely entered upon such a course of prosperity as would justify me in taking this the most important step in life.
It may be a trite but not the less true remark that some of the most important events originate in apparently chance occurrences and circumstances, which lead up to results that materially influence and even determine the subsequent course of our lives. I had occasion to make a business journey to Sheffield on the 2d of March 1838, and also to attend to some affairs of a similar character at York. As soon as I had completed my engagement at Sheffield, I had to wait for more than two dreary hours in momentary expectation of the arrival of the coach that was to take me on to York. The coach had been delayed by a deep fall of snow, and was consequently late. When it arrived, I found that there was only one outside place vacant; so I mounted to my seat. It was a very dreary afternoon, and the snow was constantly falling.
As we approached Barnsley I observed, in the remaining murky light of the evening, the blaze of some ironwork furnaces near at hand. On inquiring whose works they were, I was informed that they belonged to Earl Fitzwilliam, and that they were under the management of a Mr. Hartop. The mention of this name, coupled with the sight of the ironworks, brought to my recollection a kind invitation which Mr. Hartop had given me while visiting my workshop in Manchester to order some machine tools, that it I ever happened to be in his neighbourhood, he would be most happy to show me anything that was interesting about the ironworks and colliery machinery under his management.
I at once decided to terminate my dreary ride on the top of the coach. I descended, and with my small valise in hand I trudged over some trackless snow-covered fields, and made my way by the shortest cut towards the blazing iron furnaces. On reaching them I was informed that Mr. Hartop had just gone to his house, which was about a mile distant. I accordingly made my way thither the best that I could through the deep snow. I met with a cordial welcome, and with the hospitable request that I should take up my quarters there for the night, and have a round of the ironworks and the machinery on the following day. I cheerfully acceded to the kind invitation. I was then introduced to his wife and daughter in a cosy room, where I spent a most pleasant evening. As Mr. Hartop was an enthusiast in all matters relating to mechanism and mechanical engineering subjects generally, we found plenty to converse about; while his wife and daughter, at their needlework, listened to our discussions with earnest and intelligent attention.
On the following day I was taken a round of the ironworks, and inspected their machinery, as well as that of the collieries, in the details of which Mr. Hartop had introduced many common-sense and most effective improvements. All of these interested me, and gave me much pleasure. In the evening we resumed our “cracks” on many subjects of mutual interest. The daughter joined in our conversation with the most intelligent remarks; for, although only in her twenty-first year, she had evidently made good use of her time, aided by her clear natural faculties of shrewd observation. Mr. Hartop having met with some serious reverse of fortune, owing to the very unsatisfactory conduct of a partner, had in a manner to begin business life again on his own account; and although he had to reduce his domestic establishment considerably in consequence, there was in all its arrangements a degree of neatness and perfect systematic order, combined with many evidences of elegant taste and good sense which pervaded the whole, that enhanced in no small degree the attractiveness of the household. The chief of these, however, was to me their daughter Anne! I soon perceived in her, most happily and attractively combined, all the conditions that I could hope for and desire to meet with in the dear partner of my existence.
As I had soon to proceed on my journey, I took the opportunity of telling her what I felt and thought, and so ardently desired in regard to our future intercourse. What little I did say was to this great purpose; and, so far as I could judge, all that I said was received in the best spirit that I could desire. I then communicated my hopes and wishes to the parents. I explained to them my circumstances, which happily were then beginning to assume an encouraging prospect, and realising, in a substantial form, a return for the earnest exertions that I had made towards establishing a home of my own. They expressed their concurrence in the kindest manner; and it was arranged that if business continued to progress as favourably as I hoped, our union should take place in about two years from that time.
Everything went on hopefully and prosperously. The two years that intervened looked very long in some respects, and very short in others; for I was always fully occupied, and labour shortens time. At length the two years came to an end. My betrothed and myself continued of the same mind. The happy “chance” event of our meeting on the evening of the 2d of March 1838 culminated in our marriage at the village church of Wentworth on the 16th of June 1840–a day of happy memory! From that day to this the course of our united hearts and lives has continued to run on with steady uninterrupted harmony and mutual happiness. Forty-two years of our married life finds us the same affectionate and devoted “cronies” that we were at the beginning; and there is every prospect that, under God’s blessing, we shall continue to be so to the end.
I was present at the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, on the 15th of September 1830. Every one knows the success of the undertaking. Railways became the rage. They were projected in every possible direction. They were first made between all the large towns, after which branches were constructed to place the whole country in connection with the main lines. Coaches were driven off the road, and everything appeared to be thrown into a state of confusion. People wondered greatly at the new conditions of travelling; and they flocked from all quarters to see the railway at work.
When the line was opened from Edinburgh to Glasgow, a shepherd and his wife came from beyond the Pentlands to see the train pass. On it came, and flashed out of sight in a minute. “How wonderful are the works o’ man!” exclaimed the shepherd. “But what’s a’ the hurry for?”, rejoined his wife. Still more marvellous, however, was the first adventure by train of an old woman from Newtyle to Dundee. In those days the train was let down part of the railway by a rope. The woman was on her way down hill, with a basket of eggs by her side. Suddenly the rope broke, and the train dashed into the Dundee Station, scattering the carriages, and throwing out the old woman and her basket of broken eggs. A porter ran to her help, when, gathering herself together, she exclaimed, “Odd sake, sirs, d’ye aye whummil* [footnote…
Whummil, to turn upside down.–Jamieson’s Scottish Dictionary. …]
us oot this way?” She thought it was only the ordinary way of delivering railway passengers.
Ropes, however, were merely exceptional methods of working railway trains. Eventually locomotives were invariably adopted. When railways were extended in so many directions, more and more locomotives were required to work them.
When George Stephenson was engaged in building his first locomotive at Killingworth, he was greatly hampered, not only by the want of handy mechanics, but by the want of efficient tools. But he did the best that he could. His genius overcame difficulties. It was immensely to his credit that he should have so successfully completed his engines for the Stockton and Darlington, and afterwards for the Liverpool and Manchester Railway.
Only a few years had passed, and self-acting tools were now enabled to complete, with precision and uniformity, machines that before had been deemed almost impracticable.
In proportion to the rapid extension of railways the demand for locomotives became very great. As our machine tools were peculiarly adapted for turning out a large amount of first-class work, we directed our attention to this class of business. In the course of about ten years after the opening of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway, we executed considerable orders for locomotives for the London and Southampton, the Manchester and Leeds, and the Gloucester railway companies.
The Great Western Railway Company invited us to tender for twenty of their very ponderous engines. They proposed a very tempting condition of the contract. It was, that if, after a month’s trial of the locomotives, their working proved satisfactory, a premium of #100 was to be added to the price of each engine and tender. The locomotives were made and delivered; they ran the stipulated number of test miles between London and Bristol in a perfectly satisfactory manner; and we not only received the premium, but, what was much more encouraging, we received a special letter from the Board of Directors, stating their entire satisfaction with the performance of our engines, and desiring us to refer other contractors to them with respect to the excellence of our workmanship. This testimonial was altogether spontaneous, and proved extremely valuable in other quarters.
I may mention that, in order to effect the prompt and perfect execution of this order, I contrived several special machine tools, which assisted us most materially. These tools for the most part rendered us more independent of mere manual strength and dexterity, while at the same time they increased the accuracy and perfection of the work. They afterwards assisted us in the means of perfecting the production of other classes of work. At the same time they had the important effect of diminishing the cost of production, as was made sufficiently apparent by the balance-sheet prepared at the end of each year. My connection with the Great Western Company shortly led to a most important event in connection with my own personal history. It appears that their famous steam-ship the Great Western had been very successful in her voyages between Bristol and New York; so much so, indeed, that the directors of the Company ordered the construction of another vessel of much greater magnitude–the Great Britain. Mr. Francis Humphries, their engineer, came to Patricroft to consult with me as to the machine tools, of unusual size and power, which were required for the construction of the immense engines of the proposed ship, which were to be made on the vertical trunk principle. Very complete works were erected at Bristol for the accommodation of the requisite machinery. The tools were made according to Mr. Humphries’ order; they were delivered and fitted to his entire approval, and the construction of the gigantic engines was soon in full progress.
An unexpected difficulty, however, was encountered with respect to the enormous wrought-iron intermediate paddleshaft. It was required to be of a size and diameter the like of which had never been forged. Mr. Humphries applied to the largest forges throughout the country for tenders of the price at which they would execute this important part of the work, but to his surprise and dismay he found that not one of them could undertake so large a forging. In this dilemma he wrote a letter to me, which I received on the 24th of November 1839, informing me of the unlooked-for difficulty. “I find,” he said, “that there is not a forge hammer in England or Scotland powerful enough to forge the intermediate paddle-shaft of the engines for the Great Britain! What am I to do? Do you think I might dare to use cast-iron?
This letter immediately set me a-thinking. How was it that the existing hammers were incapable of forging a wrought-iron shaft of thirty inches diameter? Simply because of their want of compass, of range and fall, as well as of their want of power of blow. A few moment’s rapid thought satisfied me that it was by our rigidly adhering to the old traditional form of a smith’s hand hammer– of which the forge and tilt hammer, although driven by water or steam power, were merely enlarged modifications–that the difficulty had arisen; as, whenever the largest forge hammer was tilted up to its full height, its range was so small that when a piece of work of considerable size was placed on the anvil, the hammer became “gagged;” so that, when the forging required the most powerful blow, it received next to no blow at all, as the clear space for the fall of the hammer was almost entirely occupied by the work on the anvil.
The obvious remedy was to contrive some method by which a ponderous block of iron should be lifted to a sufficient height above the object on which it was desired to strike a blow, and then to let the block full down upon the forging, guiding it in its descent by such simple means as should give the required precision in the percussive action of the falling mass following up this idea, I got out my “Scheme Book,” on the pages of which I generally thought out, with the aid of pen and pencil, such mechanical adaptations as I had conceived in my mind, and was thereby enabled to render them visible. I then rapidly sketched out my Steam Hammer, having it all clearly before me in my mind’s eye. In little more than half an hour after receiving Mr. Humphries’ letter narrating his unlooked-for difficulty, I had the whole contrivance in all its executant details, before me in a page of my Scheme Book, a reduced photographed copy of which I append to this description. The date of this first drawing was the 24th November, 1839.
[Image] First drawing of steam hammer, 24th Nov. 1839
My Steam Hammer as thus first sketched, consisted of, first, a massive anvil on which to rest the work; second, a block of iron constituting the hammer or blow-giving portion; and, third, an inverted steam cylinder to whose piston-rod the hammer-block was attached. All that was then required to produce a most effective hammer was simply to admit steam of sufficient pressure into the cylinder, so as to act on the under-side of the piston, and thus to raise the hammer-block attached to the end of the piston rod. By a very simple arrangement of a slide valve, under the control of all attendant, the steam was allowed to escape and thus permit the massive block of iron rapidly to descend by its own gravity upon the work then upon the anvil.
Thus, by the more or less rapid manner in which the attendant allowed the steam to enter or escape from the cylinder, any required number or any intensity of blows could be delivered. Their succession might be modified in an instant. The hammer might be arrested and suspended according to the requirements of the work. The workman might thus, as it were, think in blows. He might deal them out on to the ponderous glowing mass, and mould or knead it into the desired form as if it were a lump of clay; or pat it with gentle taps according to his will, or at the desire of the forgeman.
Rude and rapidly sketched out as it was, this, my first delineation of the steam hammer, will be found to comprise all the essential elements of the invention. Every detail of the drawing retains to this day the form and arrangement which I gave to it forty-three years ago. I believed that the steam hammer would prove practically successful; and I looked forward to its general employment in the forging of heavy masses of iron. It is no small gratification to me now, when I look over my rude and hasty first sketch, to find that I hit the mark so exactly, not only in the general structure but in the details; and that the invention as I then conceived it and put it into shape, still retains its form and arrangements intact in the thousands of steam hammers that are now doing good service in the mechanical arts throughout the civilised world.
But to return to my correspondence with the Great Western Steamship Company. I wrote at once to Mr. Humphries, and sent him a sketch of my proposed steam hammer. I told him that I felt assured he would now be able to overcome his difficulty, and that the paddle-shaft of the Great Britain might now be forged. Mr. Humphries was delighted with my design. He submitted it to Mr. Brunel, engineer-in-chief of the steamship: to Mr. Guppy, the managing director; and to other persons interested in the undertaking,–by all of whom it was heartily approved. I accordingly gave the Company permission to communicate my design to such forge proprietors as might feel disposed to erect the steam hammer, the only condition that I made being, that in the event of its being adopted I was to be allowed to supply it in accordance with my design.
But the paddle-shaft of the Great Britain was never forged. About that time the substitution of the Screw for the paddle-wheel as a means of propulsion was attracting much attention. The performances of the Archimedes, as arranged by Mr. Francis P. Smith, were so satisfactory that Mr. Brunel, after he had made an excursion in that vessel, recommended the directors to adopt the new propelling power. After much discussion, they yielded to his strongly-urged advice. The consequence was, that the great engines which Mr. Humphries had so elaborately designed, and which were far advanced in construction, were given up, to his inexpressible regret and mortification, as he had pinned his highest hopes as a practical engineer on the results of their performance. And, to crown his distress, he was ordered to produce fresh designs of engines specially suited for screw propulsion. Mr. Humphries was a man of the most sensitive and sanguine constitution of mind. The labour and the anxiety which he had already undergone, and perhaps the disappointment of his hopes, proved too much for him; and a brain fever carried him off after a few days’ illness. There was thus, for a time, an end of the steam hammer required for forging the paddle-shaft of the Great Britain.
Very bad times for the iron-trade, and for all mechanical undertakings, set in about this time. A wide-spread depression affected all conditions of industry Although I wrote to the heads of all the great firms, urging the importance of my invention, and forwarding designs of my steam hammer, I was unable to obtain a single order. It is true, they cordially approved of my plan, and were greatly struck by its simplicity, unity, and apparent power.*
[footnote…
Among the heads of firms who sent me cordial congratulations on my design, were Benjamin Hick, of the Soho Ironworks, Bolton, a man, whose judgment in all matters connected with engineering and mechanical construction was held in the very highest regard; Messrs. Rushton and Eckersley, Bolton Ironworks; Messrs. Howard and Ravenhill, Rotherhithe Ironworks, London; Messrs. Hawkes, Crashaw, and Company, Newcastle-upon-Tyne; George Thorneycroft, Wolverhampton; and others. …]
But the substance of their replies was, that they had not sufficient orders to keep the forge hammers they already possessed in work. They promised, however, that in the event of trade recovering from its depression, they would probably adopt the new power.
In the meantime my invention was taken up in an entirely new and unexpected quarter. I had for some years been supplying foreign customers with self-acting machine tools. The principals of continental manufacturing establishments were accustomed to make frequent visits to England for the purpose of purchasing various machine tools required for the production of the ponderous as well as the lighter parts of their machinery. We gave our foreign visitors every facility and opportunity for seeing our own tools at work, and they were often so much pleased that, when they came to order one special tool, they ended by ordering many,–the machine tools in full activity thus acting as their most effective advertisements. In like manner I freely opened my Scheme Book to any foreign visitors.* [footnote…
Some establishments in the same line of business were jealous of the visit of foreigners; but to our views, restriction in the communication of new ideas on mechanical subjects to foreigners of intelligence and enterprising spirit served no good purpose, as the foreign engineer was certain to obtain all the information he was in quest of from the drawings in the Patent Office, or from the admirable engravings contained in the engineering publications of the day. It was better to derive the advantage of supplying them with the machines they were in quest of, than to wait until the demand was supplied by foreigners themselves.
…]
There I let them see the mechanical thoughts that were passing through my mind, reduced to pen and ink drawings. I did not hesitate to advocate the advantage of my steam hammer over every other method of forging heavy masses of iron; and I pointed out the drawing in my Scheme Book in confirmation of my views. The book was kept in the office to be handy for such occasions; and in many cases it was the means of suggesting ideas of machine tools to our customers, and thus led to orders which might not have been obtained without this effective