The importance of having such Standard Planes caused him to have many of them placed on the benches beside his workmen, by means of which they might at once conveniently test their work. Three of each were made at a time, so that by the mutual rubbing of each on each the projecting surfaces were effaced. When the surfaces approached very near to the true plane, the still projecting minute points were carefully reduced by hard steel scrapers, until at last the standard plane surface was secured. When placed over each other they would float upon the thin stratum of air between them until dislodged by time and pressure. When they adhered closely to each other, they could only be separated by sliding each off each. This art of producing absolutely plane surfaces is, I believe, a very old mechanical "dodge." But, as employed by Maudslay's men, it greatly contributed to the improvement of the work turned out. It was used for the surfaces of slide valves, or wherever absolute true plane surfaces were essential to the attainment of the best results, not only in the machinery turned out, but in educating the taste of his men towards first-class workmanship.

Maudslay's love of accuracy also led him to distrust the verdicts given by the employment of the ordinary callipers and compasses in determining the absolute or relative dimensions of the refined mechanism which he delighted to construct with his own hands. So much depended upon the manner in which the ordinary measuring instruments were handled and applied that they sometimes failed to give the required verdict as to accuracy. In order, therefore, to get rid of all difficulties in this respect, he designed and constructed a very compact and handy instrument which he always had on his bench beside his vice. He could thus, in a most accurate and rapid manner, obtain the most reliable evidence as to the relative dimensions, in length, width, or diameter, of any work which he had in hand. In consequence of the absolute truth of the verdicts of the instrument, he considered it as a Court of Final Appeal, and humorously called it "The Lord Chancellor."

[Image] Maudslay's "Lord Chancellor"

This trustworthy "Companion of the Bench" consisted of a very substantial and inflexible bed or base of hard brass. At one end of it was a perfectly hardened steel surface plate, having an absolutely true flat or plane face, against which one end or side of the object to be measured was placed; whilst a similar absolutely true plane surface of hardened steel was advanced by means of a suitable fine thread screw, until the object to be measured was just delicately in contact with it. The object was, as it were, between the jaws of a vice, but without any squeeze—being just free, which could be easily ascertained by feeling. These two absolutely plane surfaces, between which the object lay, had their distances apart easily read off from the scale engraved on the bed of the instrument, in inches and tenth parts of an inch, while the disk-head or handle of the screw was divided on its edge rim into hundredth or thousandth parts, as these bore an exact metrical relation to the pitch of the screw that moved the parallel steel faces of the measuring vice (as I may term it) nearer or farther apart.

Not only absolute measure could be obtained by this means, but also the amount of minute differences could be ascertained with a degree of exactness that went quite beyond all the requirements of engineering mechanism; such, for instance, as the thousandth part of an inch! It might also have been divided so far as a millionth part of an inch, but these infinitesimal fractions have really nothing to do with the effective machinery* [footnote... I may mention another saying of Mr. Maudslay's. Besides his observation that "in going from London to Greenwich we must not go round by Inverness," he said, "We must not become too complicated with our machinery. Remember the get-at-ability of parts. If we go on as some mechanics are doing, we shall soon be boiling our eggs with a chronometer!" ...] that comes forth from our workshops, and merely show the mastery we possess over materials and mechanical forms. The original of this measuring machine of Maudslay's was exhibited at the Loan Collection at South Kensington in 1878. It is now treasured up, with other relics of his handiwork, in a cabinet at the Lambeth works. While writing upon this subject it may be worthy of remark, that the employment of a screw as the means of adjusting the points or reference marks of a measuring instrument, for the ascertainment of minute distances between objects, was first effected by William Gascoigne, about the year 1648. There can be no doubt that he was the inventor of the Micrometer—an instrument that, when applied (as he first did so) to the eye-piece of the Telescope, has been the means of advancing the science of astronomy to its present high position (See Grant's History of Astronomy, p. 453)

I had abundant occupation for my leisure time after my regular attendance at the factory was over. I had not only the opportunity of studying mechanics, but of studying men. It is a great thing to know the character of those who are over you as well as those who are under you. It is also well to know the character of those who are associated with you in your daily work. I became intimate with the foremen and with many of the skilled workmen. From them I learnt a great deal. Let me first speak of the men of science who occasionally frequented Maudslay's private workshop. They often came to consult him on subjects with which he was specially acquainted.

Among Mr. Maudslay's most frequent visitors were General Sir Samuel Bentham, Mr. Barton, director of the Royal Mint, Mr. Bryan Donkin, Mr. Faraday, and Mr. Chantrey, the sculptor. As Mr. Maudslay wished me to be at hand to give him any necessary assistance, I had the opportunity of listening to the conversation between him and these distinguished visitors. Sir Samuel Bentham called very often. He had been associated with Maudslay during the contrivance and construction of the block machinery. He was brother of the celebrated Jeremy Bentham, and he applied the same clear common-sense to mechanical subjects which the other had done to legal, social, and political questions. It was in the highest degree interesting and instructive to hear these two great pioneers in the history and application of mechanics discussing the events connected with the block-making machinery. In fact, Maudslay's connection with the subject had led to the development of most of our modern engineering tools. They may since have been somewhat altered in arrangement, but not in principle. Scarcely a week passed without a visit from the General. He sat in the beautiful workshop, where he always seemed so happy. It was a great treat to hear him and Maudslay "fight their battles o'er again," in recounting the difficulties, both official and mechanical, over which they had so gloriously triumphed.

At the time when I listened to their conversation, the great work in hand was the organisation of a systematic series of experiments on the hulls of steamships, with the view of determining the laws of resistance on their being propelled through the sea by a power other than those of winds and sails. The subject was as complex as it was interesting and important. But it had to be put to the test of actual experiment. This was done in the first place by large models of hulls, so as to ascertain at what point the curves of least resistance could be applied. Their practical correctness was tested by careful experiment in passing them through water at various velocities, to record which conditions special instruments were contrived and executed. These, as well as the preparation of large models of hulls, embodying the various improved "lines," occupied a considerable portion of the time that I had the good fortune to spend in Mr. Maudslay's private workshop.

Mr. Barton of the Royal Mint was quite a "crony" of Maudslay's. He called upon him often with respect to the improvements for stamping the current coin of the realm. Bryan Donkin was also associated with Maudslay and Barton on the subject of the national standard of the yard measure. But perhaps Mr. Chantrey was the most attractive visitor at the private workshop. He had many a long interview with Maudslay with respect to the planning and arranging of a small foundry at his studio, by means of which he might cast his bronze statues under his own superintendence. Mr. Maudslay entered con amore into the subject, and placed his skill and experience entirely at Chantrey's service. He constructed the requisite furnaces, cranes, and other apparatus, at Chantrey's studio; and it may be enough to state that, when brought into operation, they yielded the most satisfactory results.

Among my most intelligent private friends in London were George Cundell and his two brothers. They resided near my lodgings, and I often visited them on Saturday evenings. They were most kind, gentle, and genial. The eldest brother was in Sir William Forbes's bank. George was agent for Mr. Patrick Maxwell Stuart in connection with his West India estates, and the third brother was his assistant. The elder brother was an admirable performer on the violoncello, and he treated us during these Saturday evenings with noble music from Beethoven and Mozart. My special friend George was known amongst us as "the worthy master." He was thoroughly versed in general science, and was moreover a keen politician. He had the most happy faculty of treating complex subjects, both in science and politics, in a thoroughly common-sense manner. His two brothers had a fine feeling for art, and, indeed, possessed no small skill as practical artists. With companions such as these, gifted with a variety of tastes, I spent many of my Saturday evenings most pleasantly and profitably. They were generally concluded with a glass of beer of "the worthy master's" own brewing.

When the season of the year and the state of the weather were suitable I often joined this happy fraternity in long and delightful Sunday walks to various interesting places round London. Our walks included Waltham Abbey, Waltham Cross, Eltham Palace, Hampton Court, Epping Forest, and many other interesting places of resort. When the weather was unfavourable my principal resort was Westminster Abbey, where, besides the beautifully-conducted service and the noble anthems, I could admire the glory of the architecture, and the venerable tombs, under which lay the best and bravest. I used generally to sit at a point from which I could see the grand tomb of Aylmer de Vallance with its magnificent surroundings of quaint and glorious architecture. It was solemn, and serious also, to think of the many generations who had filled the abbey, and of the numbers of the dead who lay beneath our feet.

I was so great an admirer of Norman and Gothic architecture that there was scarcely a specimen of it in London which I did not frequently visit. One of the most interesting examples I found in the Norman portion of St. Saviours Church, near London Bridge, through some of it has since been destroyed by the so-called "restoration" in 1831. The new work has been executed in the worst taste and feeling. I also greatly admired the Norman chapel of the Tower, and some Norman portions of the Church of St. Bartholomew the Less, near Smithfield.

No style of architecture that I have ever seen has so impressed me with its intrinsic gravity, and I may say solemnity, as that of the Norman. There is a serious earnestness in its grave simplicity that has a peculiar influence upon the mind; and I have little doubt that this was felt, and understood by those true architects who designed and built the noble cathedrals at Durham and elsewhere. But there, as elsewhere, some of our modern so-called "Architects" have made sad havoc with the earliest and most impressive portions of those grand and truly interesting remains, by their "Restorations", as they term it—but which I call Defamations.

CHAPTER 9. Holiday in the Manufacturing Districts.

In the autumn of 1830 Mr. Maudslay went to Berlin for the purpose of superintending the erection of machinery at the Royal Mint there. He intended to be absent from London for about a month; and he kindly permitted me to take my holiday during that period.

I had been greatly interested by the descriptions in the newspapers of the locomotive competition at Rainhill, near Liverpool. I was, therefore, exceedingly anxious to see Stephenson's "Rocket," the engine that had won the prize. Taking with me letters of introduction from Mr. Maudslay to persons of influence at Liverpool, I left London for the north on the afternoon of Saturday the 9th of September 1830. I took my place on the outside of the Liverpool coach, which set out from "The Swan with Two Necks," in Lad Lane, City, one of the most celebrated coach-offices in those days

The first part of the journey to Liverpool was very dismal. The night was wet. The rain came pouring down, and no sort of wrappings could keep it out. The outside passengers became thoroughly soaked. On we went, however, as fast as four horses could carry us. Next morning we reached Coventry, when the clouds cleared away, and the sun at last burst forth. I could now enjoy this charming part of old England. Although I had only a hasty glimpse in passing of the quaint streets and ancient buildings of the town I was perfectly delighted with the specimens of ancient domestic architecture which I saw. At that time Coventry was quite a museum of that interesting class of buildings. The greater part of them have since been swept away in the so-called improvement of modern builders, none of whose works can ever so attract an artistic eye.

During the rest of the day the journey was delightful. Though the inside passengers had had the best of it during the night, the outside passengers had the best of it now. To go scampering across the country on the top of the coach, passing old villages, gentlemen's parks, under old trees, along hedges tinged with autumn tints, up hill and down dale, sometimes getting off the coach to lighten the load, and walking along through the fields by a short cut to meet it farther on; all this was most enjoyable. It gave me a new interest in the happier aspects of English scenery, and of rural and domestic life in the pretty old-fashioned farm buildings that we passed on our way. Indeed, there was everything to delight the eye of the lover of the picturesque during the course of that bright autumnal day.

The coach reached Liverpool on Sunday night. I took up my quarters at a commercial inn in Dale Street, where I found every comfort which I desired at moderate charges. Next morning, without loss of time, I made my way to the then terminus of the Liverpool and Manchester Railway; and there, for the first time, I saw the famous "Rocket" The interest with which I beheld this distinguished and celebrated engine was much enhanced by seeing it make several short trial trips under the personal management of George Stephenson, who acted as engineman, while his son Robert acted as stoker. During their trips of four or five miles along the line the "Rocket" attained the speed of thirty miles an hour—a speed then thought almost incredible! It was to me a most memorable and interesting sight, especially to see the father and son so appropriately engaged in working the engine that was to effect so great a change in the communications of the civilised world. I spent the entire day in watching the trial trips, in examining the railway works, and such portions of of their details as I could obtain access to. About mid-day the "Rocket" was at rest for about an hour near where I stood; and I eagerly availed myself of the opportunity of making a careful sketch of the engine, which I still preserve.

The line was opened on the 15th of September, when the famous "Rocket" led the way in conducting the first train of passengers from Liverpool to Manchester. There were present on that occasion thousands of spectators, many of whom had come from distant parts of the kingdom to witness this greatest of all events in the history of railway locomotion.

During my stay in Liverpool I visited the vast range of magnificent docks which extend along the north bank of the Mersey, all of which were crowded with noble merchant ships, some taking in cargoes of British manufactures, and others discharging immense stores of cotton, sugar, tobacco, and foreign produce. The sight was most interesting, and gave me an impressive idea of the mighty functions of a manufacturing nation—energy and intelligence, working through machinery, increasing the value of raw materials and enabling them to be transported for use to all parts of the civilised world.

Mr. Maudslay having given me a letter of introduction to his old friend William Fawcett, head of the firm of Fawcett, Preston, and Company, engineers, I went over their factory. They were engaged in producing sugar mills for the West Indies, and also in manufacturing the steam-engines for working them. The firm had acquired great reputation for their workmanship; and their shops were crowded with excellent specimens of their skill. Everything was in good order; their assortment of machine tools was admirable. Mr. Fawcett, who accompanied me, was full in his praises of my master, whom he regarded as the greatest pioneer in the substitution of the unerring accuracy of machine tools for the often untrustworthy results of mere manual labour.

I cannot resist referring to the personal appearance and manner of this excellent gentleman, William Fawcett. His peculiar courteous manner, both in speech and action, reminded me of the "grand old Style" Which I had observed in some of my father's oldest noble employers, and the representations given of them by some of our best actors. There was also a dignified kindliness about his manner that was quite peculiar to himself; and when he conducted me through his busy workshops, the courtly yet kindly manner in which he addressed his various foremen and others, was especially cheering. When I first presented my letter of introduction from Henry Maudslay, he was sitting at a beautiful inlaid escritoire table with his letters arrayed before him in the most neat and perfect order. The writing table stood on a small Turkey carpet apart from the clerks' desks in the room, but so near to them that he could readily communicate with them. His neat old-fashioned style of dress quite harmonised with his advanced age, and the kindly yet dignified grace of his manner left a lasting impression on me as a most interesting specimen of "the fine old English gentleman, quite of the olden time."

I spent another day in crossing the Mersey to Birkenhead—then a very small collection of buildings—wandered about the neighbourhood. I had my sketch-book with me, and made a drawing of Liverpool from the other side of the river. Close to Birkenhead were some excellent bits of scenery, old and picturesque farmhouses, overshadowed with venerable oaks, with juttings-out of the New Red Sandstone rocks, covered with heather, furze, and broom, with pools of water edged with all manner of effective water plants. They formed capital subjects for the artistic pencil, especially when distant peeps of the Welsh hills came into the prospect. I made several sketches, and they kept company with my graphic memoranda of architectural and mechanical objects. I may here mention that on my return to London I showed them to my brother Patrick, and some of them so much met his fancy that he borrowed my sketch-book and painted some pictures from them, which at this day are hanging on the walls of some of his admirers.

With the desire of seeing as much as possible of all that was interesting in the mechanical, architectural and picturesque line, on my return journey to London, I determined to walk, halting here and there by the way. The season of the year and the state of the weather were favourable for my purpose. I accordingly commenced my pedestrian tour on Saturday morning, the 17th September. I set out for Manchester. It was a long but pleasant walk. I well remember, when nearing Manchester, that I sat down to rest for a time on Patricroft Bridge. I was attracted by the rural aspect of the country, and the antique cottages of the neighbourhood. The Bridgewater Canal lay before me, and as I was told that it was the first mile of the waterway that the great Duke had made, it became quite classic ground in my eyes. I little thought at the time that I was so close to a piece of ground that should afterwards become my own, and where I should for twenty years carry on the most active and interesting business of my life.

I reached Manchester at seven in the evening, and took up my quarters at the King's Arms Inn, Deansgate. Next day was Sunday. I attended service in the Cathedral, then called the Old Church. I was much interested by the service, as well as by the architecture of the building. Some of the details were well worthy of attention, being very original, and yet the whole was not of the best period of Gothic architecture. Some of the old buildings about the Cathedral were very interesting. They were of a most quaint character, yet bold and effective. Much finely carved oak timber work was introduced into them; and on the whole they gave a very striking illustration of the style of domestic architecture which prevailed in England some three or four centuries ago.

On the following day I called upon Mr. Edward Tootal, of York Street. He was a well-known man in Manchester.

I had the happiness of meeting him in London a few months before. He then kindly invited me to call upon him should I ever visit Manchester, when he would endeavour to obtain for me sight of some of the most remarkable manufacturing establishments. Mr. Tootal was as good as his word. He received me most cordially, and at once proceeded to take me to the extensive machine factory of Messrs. Sharp, Roberts, and Co. I found to my delight that a considerable portion of the establishment was devoted to the production of machine tools, a department of mechanical business then rising into the highest importance. Mr. Roberts, an admirable mechanic as well as inventor, had derived many of his ideas on the subject while working with Mr. Maudslay in London, and he had carried them out with many additions and improvements of his own contrivance. Indeed, Roberts was one of the most capable men of his time, and is entitled to be regarded as one of the true pioneers of modern mechanical mechanism.

Through the kindness of Mr. Tootal I had also the opportunity of visiting and inspecting some of the most extensive cotton mills in Manchester. I was greatly pleased with the beautiful contrivances displayed in the machinery. They were perfect examples of the highest order of ingenuity, combined with that kind of common-sense which casts aside all mere traditional forms and arrangements of parts, such as do not essentially contribute to the efficiency of the machine in the performance of its special and required purpose. I found much to admire in the design as well as in the execution of the details of the machines.

The arrangement and management of the manufactories were admirable. The whole of the buildings, howsoever extensive and apparently complicated, worked like one grand and perfectly constructed machine.

I was also much impressed by the keen interest which the proprietors of these vast establishments took in the minute details of their machinery, as well as by their intelligent and practical acquaintance with the technical minutiae of their business. Although many of them were men of fortune, they continued to take as deep an interest in such matters as if they were beginning life and had their fortunes still to make. Their chief ambition was to be at the head of a thoroughly well-managed and prosperous establishment. No detail, be it ever so small, was beneath their care and attention. To a young man like myself, then about to enter upon a similar career of industry, these lessons were very important. They were encouraging examples of carefully thought out designs, carried into admirable results by close attention to details, ever watchful carefulness, and indomitable perseverance. I brooded over these circumstances, They filled my mind with hope. They encouraged me to go on in the path which I had selected; and I believed that at some time or other I might be enabled to imitate the examples of zeal and industry which I had witnessed during my stay in Manchester. It was then that I bethought me of settling down in this busy neighbourhood; and as I plodded my way back to London this thought continually occupied me. It took root in my mind and grew, and at length the idea became a reality.

I did not take the shortest route on my return journey to London. I desired to pass through the most interesting and picturesque places without unduly diverging from the right direction. I wished to see the venerable buildings and cathedrals of the olden time, as well as the engineering establishments of the new. Notwithstanding my love for mechanics I still retained a spice of the antiquarian feeling. It enabled me to look back to the remote past, into the material records of man's efforts hundreds of years ago, and contrast them with the modern progress of arts and sciences. I was especially interested in the architecture of bygone ages; but here, alas! arts and sciences have done nothing. Modern Gothic architecture is merely an imitation of the old, and often a very bad imitation. Even ancient domestic architecture is much superior to the modern. We can now only imitate it; and often spoil when imitating.

I left Manchester and turned my steps in the direction of Coalbrookdale. I passed through a highly picturesque country, in which I enjoyed the sight of many old timber houses, most attractive subjects for my pencil. My route lay through Whitchurch, Wem, and Wellington; then past the Wrekin to Coalbrookdale. Before arriving there I saw the first iron bridge constructed in England, an object of historical interest in that class of structures. It was because of the superb quality of the castings produced at Coalbrookdale that the ironmasters there were able to accomplish the building of a bridge of that material, which before had baffled all projectors both at home and abroad

I possessed a letter of introduction to the manager, and was received by him most cordially. He permitted me to examine the works. I was greatly interested at the sight of the processes of casting. Many beautiful objects were turned out for architectural, domestic, and other purposes. I saw nothing particularly novel, however, in the methods and processes of moulding and casting.

The excellence of the work depended for the most part upon the great care and skill exercised by the workmen of the foundry. They seemed to vie with each other in turning out the best castings, and their models or patterns were made with the utmost care. I was particularly impressed with the cheerful zeal and activity of the workmen and foremen of this justly celebrated establishment.

On leaving Coalbrookdale I trudged my way towards Wolverhampton. I rested at Shiffnal for the night. Next day I was in the middle of the Black Country. I had no letters of introduction to employers in Wolverhampton; so that, without stopping there, I proceeded at once to Dudley. The Black Country is anything but picturesque. The earth seems to have been turned inside out. Its entrails are strewn about; nearly the entire surface of the ground is covered with cinder-heaps and mounds of scoriae. The coal which has been drawn from below ground is blazing on the surface. The district is crowded with iron furnaces, puddling furnaces, and coal-pit engine furnaces. By day and by night the country is glowing with fire, and the smoke of the ironworks hovers over it. There is a rumbling and clanking of iron forges and rolling mills. Workmen covered with smut, and with fierce white eyes, are seen moving about amongst the glowing iron and the dull thud of forge-hammers. Amidst these flaming, smoky, clanging works, I beheld the remains of what had once been happy farmhouses, now ruined and deserted. The ground underneath them had sunk by the working out of the coal, and they were falling to pieces. They had in former times been surrounded by clumps of trees; but only the skeletons of them remained, dead, black, and leafless. The grass had been parched and killed by the vapours of sulphurous acid thrown out by the chimneys; and every herbaceous object was of a ghastly gray—the emblem of vegetable death in its saddest aspect. Vulcan had driven out Ceres. In some places I heard a sort of chirruping sound, as of some forlorn bird haunting the ruins of the old farmsteads. But no! the chirrup was a vile delusion. It proceeded from the shrill creaking of the coal-winding chains, which were placed in small tunnels beneath the hedgeless road.

I went into some of the forges to see the workmen at their labours. There was no need of introduction; the works were open to all, for they were unsurrounded by walls. I saw the white-hot iron run out from the furnace; I saw it spun, as it were, into bars and iron ribbands, with an ease and rapidity which seemed marvellous. There were also the ponderous hammers and clanking rolling-mills. I wandered from one to another without restraint. I lingered among the blast furnaces, seeing the flood of molten iron run out from time to time, and remained there until it was late. When it became dark the scene was still more impressive. The workmen within seemed to be running about amidst the flames as in a pandemonium; while around and outside the horizon was a glowing belt of fire, making even the stars look pale and feeble. At last I came away with reluctance, and made my way towards Dudley. I reached the town at a late hour. I was exhausted in mind and body, yet the day had been most interesting and exciting. A sound sleep refreshed me, and I was up in the morning early, to recommence my journey of inquiry,

I made my way to the impressive ruins of Dudley Castle, the remnant of a very ancient stronghold, originally built by Dud, the Saxon. The castle is situated on a finely wooded hill; it is so extensive that it more resembles the ruins of a town than of a single building. You enter through a treble gateway, and see the remnants of the moat, the court, and the keep. Here are the central hall, the guard, rooms, and the chapel. It must have been a magnificent structure. In the Midlands it was known as the "Castle of the Woods" Now it is abandoned by its owners, and surrounded by the Black Country. It is undermined by collieries, and even penetrated by a canal. The castle walls sometimes tremble when a blast occurs in the bowels of the mountain beneath. The town of Dudley lies quite close to the castle, and was doubtless protected by it in ancient times.

The architectural remains are of various degrees of antiquity, and are well worthy of study, as embodying the successive periods which they represent. Their melancholy grandeur is rendered all the more impressive by the coal and iron works with which they are surrounded— the olden type of buildings confronting the modern. The venerable trees struggle for existence under the destroying influence of sulphurous acid; while the grass is withered and the vegetation everywhere blighted. I sat down on an elevated part of the ruins, and looked down upon the extensive district, with its roaring and blazing furnaces, the smoke of which blackened the country as far as the eye could reach; and as I watched the decaying trees I thought of the price we had to pay for our vaunted supremacy in the manufacture of iron. We may fill our purses, but we pay a heavy price for it in the loss of picturesqueness and beauty. I left the castle with reluctance, and proceeded to inspect the limestone quarries in the neighbourhood. The limestone has long been worked out from underneath the castle; but not far from it is Wren's Nest Hill, a mountain of limestone. The wrens have left, but the quarries are there. The walk to the hill is along green lanes and over quiet fields. I entered one of the quarries opened out in the sloping precipice, and penetrated as far as the glimmer of sunlight enabled me to see my way. But the sound of the dripping of water from the root of the cave warned me that I was approaching some deep pool, into which a false step might plunge me. I therefore kept within the light of day. An occasional ray of the sun lit up the enormous rock pillars which the quarrymen had left to support the roof. It was a most impressive sight.

Having emerged from the subterranean cave, I proceeded on my way to Birmingham. I reached the town in the evening, and found most comfortable quarters. On the following day I visited some of the factories where processes were carried on in connection with the Birmingham trade. I saw the mills where sheet brass and copper were rolled for the purpose of being plated with silver. There was nothing in these processes of novel interest, though I picked up many practical hints. I could not fail to be attracted by the dexterous and rapid manipulation of the work in hand, even by boys and girls whose quick sight and nimble fingers were educated to a high degree of perfection. I could have spent a month profitably among the vast variety of small traders in metal, of which Birmingham is the headquarters. Even in what is called "the toy trade," I found a vast amount of skill displayed in the production of goldsmith work, in earrings, brooches, gold chains, rings, beads, and glass eyes for stuffed birds, dolls, and men.

I was especially attracted by Soho, once the famous manufacturing establishment of Boulton and Watt. Although this was not the birthplace* [footnote... The birthplace of the condensing engine of Watt was the workshop in the Glasgow University, where he first contrived and used a separate condenser—the true and vital element in Watt's invention. The condenser afterwards attained its true effective manhood at Soho The Newcomen engine was in fact a condensing engine, but as the condensation was effected inside the steam cylinder it was a very costly source of power in respect to steam. Watt's happy idea of condensing in a separate vessel removed the defect. This was first done in his experimental engine in the Glasgow University workshop, and before he had made the one at Kinniel for Dr. Roebuck. ...] of the condensing steam-engine it was the place where it attained its full manhood of efficiency, and became the source and origin of English manufacturing power. Watt's engine has had a greater influence on the productive arts of mankind than any other that can be named. Boulton also was a thorough man of business, without whom, perhaps, Watt could never have made his way against the world, or perfected his magnificent invention. Not less interesting to my mind was the memory of that incomparable mechanic, William Murdoch, a man of indomitable energy, and Watt's right-hand man in the highest practical sense. Murdoch was the inventor of the first model locomotive, and the inventor of gas for lighting purposes; and yet he always kept himself in the background, for he was excessively modest. He was happiest when he could best promote the welfare of the great house of Boulton and Watt. Indeed he was a man whose memory ought to be held in the highest regard by all true engineers and mechanics.

The sight which I obtained of the vast series of workshops of this celebrated establishment—filled with evidences of the mechanical genius of these master minds—made me feel that I was indeed on classic ground in regard to everything connected with steam-engine machinery. Some of the engines designed by Watt—the prototypes of the powerful condensing engines of the present day—were still performing their daily quota of work. There was "Old Bess," a sort of experimental engine, upon which Watt had tried many adaptations and alterations, for the purpose of suiting it for pumping water from coal mines. There was also the engine with the sun-and-planet motion, an invention of William Murdoch's. Both of these engines were still at work.

I went through the workshops, where I was specially interested by seeing the action of the machine tools. There I observed Murdoch's admirable system of transmitting power from one central engine to other small vacuum engines attached to the individual machines they were set to work. The power was communicated by pipes led from the central air or exhaust pump to small vacuum or atmospheric engines devoted to the driving of each separate machine, thus doing away with all shafting and leather belts, the required speed being kept up or modified at pleasure without in any way interfering with the other machines. —This vacuum method of transmitting power dates from the time of Papin; but until it received the masterly touch of Murdoch it remained a dead contrivance for more than a century.

I concluded my visits to the workshops of Birmingham by calling upon a little known but very ingenious man, whose work I had seen before I left Edinburgh, in a beautifully constructed foot turning-lathe made by John Drain. I was so much impressed with the exquisite design, execution, and completeness of the lathe, that I made it one of my chief objects to find out John Drain's workshop. It was with some difficulty that I found him. He was little known in Birmingham. His workshops were very small; they consisted of only one or two rooms. His exquisite lathes were not much in demand. They found their way chiefly to distant parts of the country, where they were highly esteemed.

I found that he had some exquisitely finished lathes completed and in hand for engraving the steel plates for printing bank notes. They were provided with the means of producing such intricate ornamental patterns as to defy the utmost skill of the forger. Perkins had done a good deal in the same way; but Drain's exquisite mechanism enabled his engraving lathes to surpass anything that had before been attempted in the same line. I believe that Drain's earnest attention to his work, in which he had little or no assistance, undermined his health, and arrested the career of one who, had he lived, would have attained the highest position in his profession. I shall never forget the rare treat which his fine mechanism afforded me. Its prominent quality was absolute truth and accuracy in every part.

Having now had enough of the Black Country and of Birmingham workshops, I proceeded towards London. There were no more manufacturing districts to be visited. Everything now was to be green lanes, majestic trees, old mansions, venerable castles, and picturesque scenery. There is no way of seeing a country properly except on foot. By railway you whiz past and see nothing. Even by coach the best parts of the scenery are unseen. "Shank's naig" is the best of all methods, provided you have time. I had still some days to spare before the conclusion of my holiday. I therefore desired to see some of the beautiful scenery and objects of antiquarian interest before returning to work.

I made my way across country to Kenilworth. The weather was fine, and the walk was perfect. The wayside was bordered by grassy sward. Wide and irregular margins extended on each side of the road, and noble trees and untrinnned hedges, in their glowing autumnal tint, extended far and wide. Everything was in the most gloriously neglected and therefore highly picturesque condition. Here and there old farmhouses and labourers' cottages peeped up from amidst the trees and hedges— worthy of the landscape painter's highest skill.

I reached Kenilworth about half an hour before sunset. I made my way direct to the castle, glorious in its decay. The fine mellow glow of the setting sun lit up the grand and extensive ruins. The massive Norman keep stood up with melancholy dignity, and attracted my attention more than any other part of the ruined building. To me there is an impressiveness in the simple massive dignity of the Norman castles and cathedrals, which no other buildings possess. There is an expression of terrible earnestness about them. The last look I had of the Norman keep was grand. The elevated part was richly tinted with the last glow of the setting sun, while the outline of the buildings beneath was shaded by a dark purply gray. It was indeed a sight never to be forgotten. I waited until the sun had descended beneath the horizon, still leaving its glimmer of pink and crimson and gray, and then I betook me to the little inn in the village, where I obtained comfortable quarters for the night. I visited the ruins again in the morning. Although the glory of the previous evening had departed, I was much interested in observing the various styles of architecture adopted in different parts of the buildings—some old, some comparatively new. I found the older more grand and massive, and the newer, of the sixteenth century, wanting in dignity of design, and the workmanship very inferior. The reign of Shoddy had already begun before Cromwell laid the castle in ruins.

In the course of the day I proceeded to Warwick. I passed along the same delightful grass-bordered roads, shaded by noble trees. I reached the grand old town, with its antique buildings and its noble castle— so famous in English history. Leaving the place with reluctance, I left it late in the afternoon to trudge on to Oxford. But soon after I started the rain began to fall. It was the first interruption to my walking journey which I had encountered during my three weeks' absence from London. As it appeared from the dark clouds overhead that a wet night had set in, I took shelter in a wayside inn at a place called Steeple Aston. My clothes were dripping wet; and after a glass of very hot rum and water I went to bed, and had a sound sleep. Next morning it was fair and bright. After a substantial homely breakfast I set out again. Nature was refreshed by the steady rain of the previous night, and the day was beautiful. I reached Deddington and stayed there for the night, and early next morning I set out for Oxford.

I was greatly excited by the first sight I had of the crowd of towers and spires of that learned and illustrious city. Nor were my expectations at all disappointed by a nearer approach to the colleges of Oxford. After a most interesting visit to the best of the buildings, I took in a, fair idea of the admirable details of this noble city, and left in the afternoon of next day. I visited, on my way to Thame, the old church of Iffley. I was attracted to it by the fine old Norman work it contains, which I found most quaint and picturesque.

I slept at Thame for the night, and next day walked to Windsor. I arrived there at sunset, and had a fine view of the exterior of the castle and the surrounding buildings. I was, however, much disappointed on examining the architectural details. In sight of the noble trees about the castle, and the magnificent prospect from the terrace, I saw much that tended to make up for the disgust I felt at the way in which all that was so appropriate and characteristic in so historic a place as Windsor Castle should have been tampered with and rubbed out by the wretched conceit of the worst architects of our worst architectural period.

I left Windsor next morning, and walked direct for London. My time was up, but not my money. I had taken eight sovereigns on setting out from London to Liverpool by coach, and I brought one sovereign back with me. Rather than break into it I walked all the way from Windsor to London without halting for refreshment my entire expenditure during my three weeks' journey was thus seven pounds.

When I look back upon that tour, I feel that I was amply rewarded. It was throughout delightful and instructive. The remembrance of it is as clear in my mind now as if I had performed the journey last year instead of fifty years ago. There are thousands of details that pass before my mind's eye that would take a volume to enunerate. I brought back a book full of sketches; for graphic memoranda are much better fitted than written words to bring up a host of pleasant recollections and associations. I came back refreshed for work, and possessed by an anxious desire to press forward in the career of industry which I had set before me to accomplish.

CHAPTER 10. Begin Business at Manchester

Mr. Maudslay arrived from Berlin two days after my return to London. He, too, had enjoyed his holiday. During his stay in Berlin he had made the friendship of the distinguished Humboldt. Shenkel, the architect, had been very kind to him, and presented him with a set of drawings and engravings of his great architectural works, which Mr. Maudslay exhibited to me with much delight. What he most admired in Shenkel was the great range of his talent in all matters of design, his minute attention to detail, and his fine artistic feeling.

Soon after Mr. Maudslay's return, a very interesting job was brought to him, in which he took even more than his usual interest. It was a machine which his friend Mr. Barton, of the Royal Mint, had obtained from France. It was intended to cut or engrave the steel dies used for stamping coin. It was a remarkable and interesting specimen of inventive ingenuity. It copied any object in relief which had been cast in plaster of Paris or brass from the artist's original wax model. The minutest detail was transferred to soft steel dies with absolute accuracy. This remarkable machine could copy and cut steel dies either in intaglio or in cameo of any size, and, in short, enabled the mechanic who managed it to transfer the most minute and characteristic touches of the original model to the steel dies for any variety of size of coin. Nevertheless, the execution of some of the details of the machine were so defective, that after giving the most tempting proof of its capabilities at the Royal Mint, Mr. Barton found it absolutely necessary to place it in Maudslay's hands, in order to have its details thoroughly overhauled, and made as mechanically perfect as its design and intention merited.

This interesting machine was accordingly brought to the private workshop, and placed in the hands of the leading mechanic, whom I had the pleasure of being associated with, James Sherriff, one of our most skilled workmen. We were both put to our mettle. It was a job quite to my taste, and being associated with so skilled a workman as Sherriff, and in constant communication with Mr. Maudslay, I had every opportunity of bringing my best manipulative ability into action and use while perfecting this beautiful machine. It is sufficient to say that by our united efforts, by the technical details suggested by Mr. Maudslay and carried out by us, and by the practical trials made under the superintendence of Mr. Wyon of the Mint, the apparatus was at length made perfect and performed its duty to the satisfaction of every one concerned.

Mr. Maudslay had next a pair of 200 horse-power marine engines put in hand. His sons and partners were rather opposed to so expensive a piece of work being undertaken without an order. At that time such a power as 200 horse nominal was scarcely thought of; and the Admiralty Board were very cautious in ordering marine engines of any sort. Nevertheless, the engines were proceeded with and perfected. They formed a noble object in the great erecting shop. They embodied in every detail all Mr. Maudslay's latest improvements. In fact the work was the sum total of the great master's inventions and adaptations in marine engines. The Admiralty at last secured them for the purpose of being placed in a very fine vessel, the Dee, then in course of construction. Mr. Maudslay was so much pleased with the result that he had a very beautiful model made of the engines; and finding that I had some artistic skill as a draughtsman, he set me to work to make a complete perspective drawing of their great engines as they stood all perfect in the erecting-shop. This was a work entirely to my taste. In due time I completed a graphic portrait of these noble engines, treated, I hope, in an artistic spirit. Indeed, such a class of drawing was rarely to be had from any engineering draughtsman. Mere geometrical drawing could not give a proper idea, as a whole, of so grand a piece of mechanism. It required something of the artistic spirit to fairly represent it. At all events my performance won the entire approval of my master.

Mr. Maudslay was a man of a wide range of mechanical abilities. He was always ready to enter upon any new work requiring the exercise of special skill. It did not matter whether it was machine tools, engraving dies, block machinery, or astronomical instruments. While at Berlin he went to see the Royal Observatory. He was naturally much interested by the fine instruments there—the works of Repsoldt and Hertz, the pioneers of improved astronomical workmanship. The continental instrument makers were then far in advance of those of England. Mr. Maudslay was greatly impressed with the sight of the fine instruments in the Berlin Observatory. He was permitted to observe some of the most striking and remarkable of the heavenly bodies— Jupiter, Saturn, and the Moon. It was almost a new revelation to him; for the subject was entirely novel. To be able to make such instruments seemed to him to be a glorious achievement of refined mechanism and manipulative skill. He returned home full of the wonderful sights he had seen. It was a constant source of pleasure to him to dwell upon the splendour and magnificence of the heavenly bodies.

He became anxious to possess a powerful telescope of his own. His principal difficulty was in procuring a lens of considerable diameter, possessed of high perfection of defining power. I suggested to him the employment of a reflecting telescope, by means of which the difficulties connected with the employment of glass could be avoided. This suggestion was based upon some knowledge I had acquired respecting this department of refined mechanical art. I knew that the elder Herschel had by this means vastly advanced our knowledge of the heavenly bodies, indeed to an extent far beyond what had been achieved by the most perfect of glass lens instruments. Mr. Maudslay was interested in the idea I suggested; and he requested me to show him what I knew of the art of compounding the alloy called speculum metal. He wished to know how so brittle a material could be cast and ground and polished, and kept free from flaws or defects of every kind.

I accordingly cast for him a speculum of 8 inches diameter. I ground and polished it, and had it fitted up in a temporary manner to exhibit its optical capabilities, which were really of no mean order. But, as his ambition was to have a grand and powerful instrument of not less than 24 inches diameter, the preparation for such a speculum became a subject to him of the highest interest. He began to look out for a proper position for his projected observatory. He made inquiry about a residence at Norwood, where he thought his instrument might have fair play. It would there be free from the smoke and disturbing elements of such a place as Lambeth. His mind was full of this idea when he was called away by the claims of affection to visit a dear old friend at Boulogne. He remained there for more than a week, until assured of his friend's convalescence. But on his return voyage across the Channel he caught a severe cold. On reaching London he took to his bed and never left it alive. After three or four weeks' suffering he died on the 14th of February 1831.

It was a very sad thing for me to lose my dear old master. He was so good and so kind to me in all ways. He treated me like a friend and companion. He was always generous, manly, and upright in his dealings with everybody. How his workmen loved him; how his friends lamented him! He directed, before his death, that he should be buried in Woolwich Churchyard, where a cast iron tomb, made to his own design, was erected over his remains. He had ever a warm heart for Woolwich, where he had been born and brought up. He began his life as a mechanic there, and worked his way steadily upwards until he reached the highest point of his profession. He often returned to Woolwich after he had left it; sometimes to pay a share of his week's wages to his mother, while she lived; sometimes to revisit the scenery of his youth. He liked the green common, with the soldiers about it; Shooter's Hill, with its wide look-out over Kent and down the valley of the Thames; the river busy with shipping; the Dockyard wharf, with the royal craft loading and unloading their armaments. He liked the clangour of the arsenal smithy, where he had first learned his art; and all the busy industry of the place. It was natural, therefore, that being so proud of his early connection with Woolwich he should wish his remains to be laid there; and Woolwich, on its part, has equal reason to be proud of Henry Maudslay.

After the death of my master I passed over to the service of his worthy partner, Joshua Field. I had an equal pleasure in working under him. His kindness in some degree mitigated the sad loss I had sustained by the death of my lamented friend and employer. The first work I had to perform for Mr. Field was to assist him in making the working drawings of a 200 horse-power condensing steam-engine, ordered by the Lambeth Waterworks Company. The practical acquaintance which I had by this time acquired of the mechanism of steam-engines enabled me to serve Mr. Field in a satisfactory manner. I drew out in full practical detail the rough but excellent hand sketches with which he supplied me. They were handed out for execution in the various parts of the factory; and I communicated with the foremen as to the details and workmanship.

While I was occupied beside Mr. Field in making these working drawings, he gave me many most valuable hints as to the designing of machinery in general. In after years I had many opportunities of making good use of them. One point he often impressed upon me. It was, he said, most important to bear in mind the get-at-ability of parts—that is, when any part of a machine was out of repair, it was requisite to get at it easily without taking the machine to pieces. This may appear a very simple remark, but the neglect of such an arrangement occasions a vast amount of trouble, delay, and expense. None but those who have had to do with the repair of worn-out or damaged parts of machinery can adequately value the importance of this subject.

I found Mr. Field to be a most systematic man in all business affairs. I may specially name one of his arrangements which I was quick to take up and appreciate. I carried it out with great advantage in my after life. It was, to record subjects of conversation by means of "graphic" memoranda. Almost daily, persons of note came to consult with him about machinery. On these occasions the consultations took place either with reference to proposed new work, or as to the progress of orders then in hand. Occasionally some novel scheme of applying power was under discussion, or some new method of employing mechanism: On ordinary occasions rough and rapid sketches are made on any stray pieces of waste paper that were about, and after the conversation is over the papers are swept away into the waste basket and destroyed. And yet some of these rapid drawings involve matters of great interest and importance for after consultations.

To avoid such losses, Mr. Field had always placed upon his table a "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.