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 method of prompting them. Amongst our foreign visitors was M. Schneider, proprietor of the great ironworks at Creuzot, in France. We had supplied him with various machine tools, and he was so pleased with their action that the next time he came to England he called at our office at Patricroft. M. Bourdon, his mechanical manager, accompanied him.

I happened to be absent on a journey at the time; but my partner, Mr. Gaskell, was present. After showing them over the works, as an act of courtesy he brought them my Scheme Book and allowed them to examine it. He pointed out the drawing of my steam hammer, and told them the purpose for which it was intended. They were impressed with its simplicity and apparent practical utility,—so much so, that M. Bourdon took careful notes and sketches of the constructive details of the hammer.

I was informed on my return of the visit of MM.Schneider and Bourdon, but the circumstance of their having inspected the designs in my Scheme Book, and especially my original design of the steam hammer, was regarded by my partner as too ordinary and trivial an incident of their visit to be mentioned to me. The exhibition of my mechanical designs to visitors at the Foundry was a matter of almost daily occurrence. I was, therefore, in entire ignorance of the fact that these foreign visitors had taken with them to France a copy of the plan and details of my steam hammer.

It was not until my visit to France in April 1842 that the upshot of their visit was brought under my notice in an extraordinary manner. I was requested by M. Bouchier, Minister of Marine, to visit the French dockyards and arsenals for the purpose of conferring with the director of each with reference to the supply of various machine tools for the proper equipment of the marine engine factories in connection with the Royal Dockyards. In order to render this journey more effective and instructive, I visited most of the French engineering establishments which had been supplied with machine tools by our firm. Amongst these was of course the famous firm of Schneider, whose works at Creuzot lay not far out of the way of my return journey accordingly made my way thither, and found M. Bourdon at his post, though M. Schneider was absent.

M. Bourdon received me with much cordiality. As he spoke English with fluency I was fortunate in finding him present, in order to show me over the works; on entering which, one of the things that particularly struck me was the excellence of a large wrought-iron marine engine single crank, forged with a remarkable degree of exactness in its general form. I observed also that the large eye of the crank had been punched and drifted with extraordinary smoothness and truth. I inquired of M. Bourdon "how that crank had been forged?" His immediate reply was, "It was forged by your steam hammer!"

Great was my surprise and pleasure at hearing this statement. I asked him how he had come to be acquainted with my steam hammer? He then narrated the circumstance of his visit to the Bridgewater Foundry during my absence. He told me of my partner having exhibited to him the original design, and how much he was struck by its simplicity and probable efficiency; that he had taken careful note and sketches on the spot; that among the first things he did after his return to Creuzot was to put in hand the necessary work for the erection of a steam hammer; and that the results had in all respects realised the high expectations he had formed of it.

M. Bourdon conducted me to the forge department of the works, that I might, as he said, "see my own child;" and there it was, in truth—a thumping child of my brain. Until then it had only existed in my scheme book; and yet it had often and often been before my mind's eye in full action. On inspecting the steam hammer I found that Bourdon had omitted some important details, which had led to a few mishaps, especially with respect to the frequent breaking of the piston-rod at its junction with the hammer block. He had effected this, in the usual way, by means of a cutter wedge through the rod; but he told me that it often broke through the severe jar during the action of the hammer. I sketched for him, then and there, in full size on a board,the elastic packing under the end of the piston-rod, which acted, as I told him, like the cartilage between the bones of the vertebrae, preventing the destructive effects of violent jars. I also communicated to him a few other important details, which he had missed in his hasty inspection of my design. Indeed, I felt great pleasure in doing so, as I found Bourdon to be a most intelligent mechanic, and thoroughly able to appreciate the practical value of the information I communicated to him. He expressed his obligation to me in the warmest terms, and the alterations which he shortly afterwards effected in the steam hammer, in accordance with my plans, enabled it to accomplish everything that he could desire.

I had not yet taken out a patent for the steam hammer. The reason was this. The cost of a patent at the time I invented it was little short of #500, all expenses included. My partner was unwilling to lay out so large a sum upon an invention for which there seemed to be so little demand at that time; and I myself had the whole of my capital embarked in the concern. Besides, the general depression still continued in the iron trade; and we had use for every farthing of money we possessed. I had been warned of the risk I ran by freely exhibiting my original design, as well as by sending drawings of it to those who I thought were most likely to bring the invention into use. But nothing had as yet been done in England. It was left for France, as I have described, to embody my invention in an actual steam hammer. I now became alarmed, and feared lest I should lose the benefits of my invention. As my partner declined to help me, I applied to my brother-in-law, William Bennett. He was a practical engineer, and had expressed himself as highly satisfied with its value. He had also many times cautioned me against "publishing" its advantages so widely, without having first protected it by a patent. He was therefore quite ready to come to my assistance. He helped me with the necessary money, and the invention was placed in a position of safety so far as my interests were concerned. In return for his kindness I stipulated that the reimbursement of his loan should be a first charge upon any profits arising from the manufacture of the steam hammer; and also that he should have a share in the profits during the period of the patent rights. Mr. Bennett lived for many years, rejoicing in the results of his kindness to me in the time of my difficulty. I may add that the patent was secured in June 1842, or less than two months after my return from France.

Soon after this, the iron trade recovered from its depression. The tide of financial prosperity of the Bridgewater Foundry soon set in, and my partner's sanguine confidence in my ability to raise it to the condition of a thriving and prosperous concern was justified in a most substantial manner. In order to make the most effective demonstration of the powers and capabilities of my steam hammer, I constructed one of 30cwt. of hammer block, with a clear four feet range of fall. I soon had it set to work; and its energetic services helped us greatly in our smith and forge work. It was admired by all observers. People came from a distance to see it. Mechanics and ironfounders wondered at the new power which had been born. The precision and beauty of its action seemed marvellous. The attendant could, by means of the steam slide-valve lever in his hand, transmit his will to the action of the hammer, and thus think in blows. The machine combined great power with gentleness. The hammer could be made to give so gentle a blow as to crack the end of an egg placed in a wine glass on the anvil; whilst the next blow would shake the parish or be instantly arrested in its descent midway.* [footnote... This is no mere figure of speech. I have heard the tea-cups rattle in the cupboard in my house a quarter of a mile from the place where the hammer was at work. I was afterwards informed that the blows of my great steam hammer at Woolwich Arsenal were sensibly felt at Greenwich Observatory, about two miles distant. ...]

Hand-gear was the original system introduced in working the hammer. A method of self-acting was afterwards added. In 1843, I admitted steam above the piston, to aid gravitation. This was an important improvement. The self-acting arrangement was eventually done away with, and hand-gear again became all but universal. Sir John Anderson, in his admirable Report on the Vienna Exhibition of 1873, says: The most remarkable features of the Nasmyth hammers were the almost entire abandonment of the old self-acting motion of the early hammers and the substitution of new devices, and in the use of hand-gear only in all attempts to show off the working. There is no real saving, as a general rule, by the self-acting arrangement, because one attendant is required in either case, and on the other hand there is frequently a positive loss in the effect of the blow. By hand-working, with steam on top of piston, the full force can be more readily maintained until the blow is fully delivered; it is thus more of a dead blow than was formerly the case with the other system."

There was no want of orders when the valuable qualities of the steam hammer came to be seen and experienced. The first Order came from Rushton and Eckersley of Bolton, who, by the way, had seen the first copy of my original design a few years before. The steam hammer I made for them was more powerful than my own. The hammer block was of five tons weight, and had a clear fall of five feet. It gave every satisfaction, and the fame of its performances went abroad amongst the ironworkers. The Lowmoor Ironworks Company followed suit with an order for one of the same size and power; and another came from Hawkes and Co., of Newcastle-upon-Tyne.

One of the most important uses of the steam hammer was in forging anchors. Under the old system, anchors upon the soundness of which the safety of ships so often depends—were forged upon the "bit by bit" system. The various pieces of an anchor were welded together, but at the parts where the different pieces of iron were welded together, flaws often occurred; the parts would break off—blades from the stock, or flukes from the blades—and leave the vessel, which relied upon the security of its anchor, at the risk of the winds and the waves. By means of the steam hammer these risks were averted. The slag was driven out during the hammering process. The anchor was sound throughout because it was welded as a whole.

Those who are technically acquainted with smith work as it used to be practised, by what I term the "bit by bit" system—that is, of building up from many separate parts of iron, afterwards welded together into the required form—can appreciate the vast practical value of the Die method brought into general use by the controllable but immense power of the steam hammer. At a very early period of my employment of the steam hammer, I introduced the system of stamping masses of welding hot iron as if it had been clay, and forcing it into suitable moulds or dies placed upon the anvil. This practice had been in use on a small scale in the Birmingham gun trade, The ironwork of firearms was thus stamped into exact form. But, until we possessed the wide range and perfectly controllable powers of the steam hammer, the stamping system was confined to comparatively small portions of forge work. The new power enabled the die and stamp system to be applied to the largest class of forge work; and another era in the working of ponderous masses of smith and forge work commenced, and has rapidly extended until the present time. Without entering into further details, the steam hammer has advanced the mechanical arts, especially with relation to machinery of the larger class, to an extent that is of incalculable importance.

Soon after my steam hammer had exhibited its merits as a powerful and docile agent in percussive force, and shown its applicability to some of the most important branches of iron manufacture, I had the opportunity of securing a patent for it in the United States. This was through the kind agency of my excellent friend and solicitor, the late George Humphries of Manchester. Mr. Humphries was a native of Philadelphia, and the intimate friend of Samuel Vaughan Merrick, founder of the eminent engineering firm of that city. Through his instrumentality I forwarded to Mr. Merrick all the requisite documents to enable a patent to be secured at the United States Patent Office at Washington. I transferred the patent to Mr. Merrick in order that it might be worked to our mutual advantage. My invention was thus introduced into America under the most favourable auspices. The steam hammer soon found its way into the principal ironworks of the country. The admirable straightforward manner in which our American agent conducted the business from first to last will ever command my grateful remembrance.

CHAPTER 14. Travels in France and Italy.

I have already referred to my visit to Creuzot, in France. I must explain how it was that I was induced to travel abroad. The French Government had ordered from our firm some powerful machine tools, which were manufactured, delivered, and found to give every satisfaction. Shortly after, I received a letter from M. Bouchier, the Minister of Marine, inviting me to make a personal visit to the French naval arsenals for the purpose of conferring with the directing officials as to the mechanical equipments of their respective workshops.

I accordingly proceeded to Paris, and was received most cordially by the Minister of Marine. After conferring with him, I was furnished with letters of introduction to the directing officers at Cherbourg, Brest, Rochefort, Indret, and Toulon. While in Paris I visited some of the principal manufacturing establishments, the proprietors of which had done business with our firm. I also visited Arago at the Observatory, and saw his fine array of astronomical instruments. The magnificent collections of antiquities at the Louvre and Hotel Cluny occupied two days out of the four I spent in Paris; after which I proceeded on my mission. Rouen lay in my way, and I could not fail to stay there and indulge my love for Gothic architecture. I visited the magnificent Cathedral and the Church of St. Ouen, so exquisite in its beauty, together with the refined Gothic architectural remains scattered about in that interesting and picturesque city. I was delighted beyond measure with all that I saw. With an eye to business, however, I paid a visit to the works which had been established by the late Joseph Locke in the neighbourhood of Rouen for the supply of locomotives to the Havre, Rouen, and Paris Railway. The works were then under the direction of Mr. Buddicom. I went onward through Caen to Bayeux. There I rested for a few hours for the purpose of visiting the superb Norman Cathedral, and also to inspect the celebrated Bayeux tapestry. I saw the needlework of Queen Matilda and her handmaidens, which so graphically commemorates the history of the Norman Conquest. In the evening I reached Cherbourg. I was cordially received by the directing officer of the dockyard, which is of very large extent and surrounded by fortifications. My business was with the smithy or atelier des forges, and the workshops or ateliers des machiness. There I recognised many of the machine-tools manufactured at the Bridgewater Foundry, doing excellent work.

My next visit was to Brest, the chief naval arsenal of France. It combines a dockyard, arsenal, and fortress of the first class. Everything has been done to make the place impregnable. The harbour is situated on the north side of one of the finest havens in the world, and is almost land-locked. Around the harbour run quays of great extent, alongside of which the largest ships can lie—five artificial basins being excavated out of the solid rock. The whole of the harbour is defended by tier above tier of batteries. Foreigners are not permitted to enter the dockyard without special permission; but as I was armed with my letter of introduction from the Minister of Marine, I was admitted and cordially received, as at Cherbourg. I went through the Government foundry and steam-factory, for which I had supplied many of my machine tools. I found the establishment to be the largest and most complete that I had seen. From Brest I went to Rochefort, an excellent naval arsenal, though much smaller than those at Cherbourg and Brest. Next to Indret on the Loire. Here is the large factory where marine engines are made for the royal steamers. The works were superintended by M. Rosine, a most able man.* [footnote... The only man I ever met, to whom I might compare Rosine, was my lamented friend Francis Humphries, engineer of the Great Western Steamship Company. Both were men of the same type, though Rosine was several octaves-higher in the compass and vividness of his intellect. ...]

I was so much pleased with him that I spent two days in his society. I have rarely met with a more perfect union of the sound practical mechanic, of strong common-sense, and yet with a vivid imagination, which threw a light upon every subject that he touched. It was delightful to see the perfect manner in which he had arranged all the details of the engine factory under his superintendence, and to observe the pride which he took in the accuracy of the work turned out by his excellent machinery. It was a treat to see the magnificent and intricate iron castings produced there.

As M. Rosine spoke English fluently, we had discussions on a vast variety of topics, not only relating to technical subjects, but on other matters relating to art and mechanical drawing. He was one of the few men I have met who had in perfection the happy accomplishment of sketching with true artistic spirit any object that he desired to bring before you. His pencil far outstripped language in conveying distinct ideas on constructive and material objects. The time that I spent in the company of this most interesting man will ever remain vivid in my memory. It grieved me greatly to hear of his premature death about two years after the date of my visit. He must have been a sad loss to his deeply attached friends, as well as to the nation whom he so faith fully served.

On my way to Toulon I passed through Bordeaux, and by Avignon to Nismes. At the latter city I was delighted with the sight of the exquisite Roman temple, the Maison Carree. It is almost perfect. But the most interesting of the Roman remains at Nismes is the magnificent Amphitheatre. In viewing this grand specimen of architecture, as well as the old temples, cathedrals, and castles, I felt that we moderns are comparative pigmies. Our architecture wants breadth, grandeur, sublimity.

It appears to me that one of the chief causes of the inferiority and defects of Modern Architecture is, that our designers are so anxious to display their taste in ornamentation. They first design the exterior, and then fit into it the interior of their building. The purpose of the building is thus regarded as a secondary consideration. In short, they utilise ornament instead of ornamenting utility—total inversion, as it appears to me, of the fundamental principle which ought to govern all classes of architectural structures. This is, unfortunately, too evident in most of our public buildings. See, for instance, our new Law Courts.

One thing I was especially struck with at Nismes—the ease with which some thousands of people might issue, without hindrance, from the Amphitheatre. The wedge-shaped passages radiate from the centre, and, widening outwards, would facilitate the egress of an immense crowd. Contrast this with the difficulty of getting out of any modern theatre or church in case of alarm or fire. Another thing is remarkable—the care with which the huge blocks of magnesian limestone* [footnote... I believe Dolomite is the proper geological term. This fine material abounds in this part of France, and has materially contributed to the durability of the Roman mason work. ...] have been selected. Some of the stone slabs are eighteen feet long; they roof over the corridors; yet they still retain the marks of the Roman chisel. Every individual chip is as crisp as on the day on which it was made; even the delicate "scribe" marks, by which the mason some 1900 years ago lined out his work on the blocks of stone he was about to chip into its required form, are still perfectly distinct.

This wonderfully durable stone is of the same material as that employed by lithographers. Though magnesian, it is of a different quality from that employed in building our Houses of Parliament. As this was carefully selected, the latter was carelessly unselected. It was quarried at random, in the most ignorant way; some of it proved little better than chalk; and though all sorts of nostrums have been tried, nothing will cure the radical defect. This, however, is a wide digression from my subject of the admirable mason work, and the wonderful skill and forethought employed in erecting that superb arena and the other Roman buildings at Nismes.

I proceeded to Marseilles, where I had some business to transact with Philip Taylor and Company, the engineering firm. They were most kind and attentive to me while there, and greatly added to the enjoyment of my visit to that remarkable city. From Marseilles I proceeded to Toulon, the last of the marine dockyards I had to visit. There was no railway between the places at that time, and it was accordingly necessary that I should drive along the usual road. In the course of my journey to Toulon I went through the Pass of Col d'Ollioulles. It was awfully impressive. The Pass appeared to consist of a mighty cleft between two mountains; the result of some convulsion of Nature. There was only room for the carriage road to pass between the cliffs. The ruins of a Saracenic castle stood on the heights to guard the passage. It was certainly the most romantic scene I had ever beheld.

Looking down into the deep cleft below me, at the bottom of which ran a turbulent stream, I saw the narrow road along which our carriage was to pass. And then suddenly I emerged in full sight of the Mediterranean, with the calm blue heavens resting over the deep blue sea. There were palms, cactuses, and orange trees, mixed with olive groves. The fields were full of tulips and narcissuses, and the rocks by the roadside were covered with boxwood and lavender. Everything gave evidence of the sunny South. I had got a glimpse of the Mediterranean a few days before; but now I saw it in its glory.

I arrived in due time at Toulon. The town is not very striking in itself. It is surrounded by an amphitheatre of mountains of hard magnesian limestone. These are almost devoid of vegetation. This it is which gives so arid an aspect to this part of the coast. Facing the south, the sun's rays, reflected from the bare surface of the rocks, place one at mid-day as if in the focus of a great burning mirror, and send every one in quest of shade. This intense temperature has its due effect upon the workers in the dockyard. I found the place far inferior to the others which I had visited. The heat seemed to engender a sort of listlessness over the entire place. The people seemed to be falling asleep. Though we complain of cold in our northern hemisphere, it is a great incentive to work. Even our east wind is an invigorator; it braces us up, and strengthens our nerves and muscles.

It is quite possible that the workmen of the Toulon dockyard might fire up and work with energy provided an occasion arose to call forth their dormant energy. But without the aid of an almost universal introduction of self-acting tools in this sleepy establishment, to break, with the busy hum of active working machinery, the spell of indolence that seemed to pervade it, there appeared to me no hope of anything like continuous and effective industry or useful results. The docks looked like one vast knacker's yard of broken-down obsolete ships and wretched old paraphernalia—unfortunately a characteristic of other establishments nearer home than Toulon.

After transacting my business with the directing officers of this vast dockyard I returned to Marseilles. There I found letters requiring me to proceed to Naples, in order to complete some business arrangements in that city. I was exceedingly rejoiced to have an opportunity of visiting the south of Italy. I set out at once. A fine new steamer of the Messageries Imperiales, the Ercolano, was ready to sail from the harbour. I took my place on board. I found that the engines had been made by Maudsley Sons and Field; they were of their latest improved double-cylinder construction. When I went down into the engine-room I felt myself in a sense at home; for the style of the engines brought to my mind many a pleasant remembrance of the days gone by.

We steamed out of the harbour, and passed in succession the beautiful little islands which gem the bay of Marseilles. Amongst others, the isle of If, crowned by its castle, once a State prison, and the Chateau d'If, immortalised by Dumas. Then Pomegne, Ratoneau, and other islands. We were now on the deep blue Mediterranean, watching the graceful curves of the coast as we steamed along. Soon after, we came in sight of the snow-capped maritime Alps behind Nice. The evening was calm and clear, and a bright moon shone overhead. Next morning I awoke in the harbour of Genoa, with a splendid panoramic view of the city before me. I shall never forget the glorious sight of that clear bright morning as long as I live.

As the steamer was to remain in the harbour until two o'clock next day, I landed with the passengers and saw the wonders of the city. I felt as if I were in a new world. On every side and all around me were objects of art lighted up by glorious sunshine. The picturesque narrow streets, with the blue sky overhead and the bright sunshine lighting up the beautiful architecture of the palatial houses, relieved by masses of clear shade, together with the picturesque dresses of the people, and the baskets of oranges and lemons with the leaves on the boughs on which they had been born and reared, the brilliant greenery of the inner courts into which you peeped while passing along the Strada Nuova, literally a street of palaces, threw me into a fervency of delight. Here, indeed, was architecture to be proud of—grand, imposing, and massive—chastely yet gloriously ornamented. There was nothing of the gingerbread order here!

The plan of these palaces is admirable. They are open to the street, so that all the inner arrangements may be seen. There is the court, surrounded by arcades, the arches of which rest upon columns; the flights of marble steps on each side, leading to the great hall or the principal apartments; and inside the court, the pink daphnes and Tangerine orange frees, surrounded by greenery, with which the splendour of the marble admirably contrasts;—the whole producing a magnificent effect. I remembered that Genoa la superba was one of my father's pet subjects when talking of his first visit to Italy; and now I could confirm all that he had said about the splendour of its palaces.

I do not know of anything more delightful than to grope one's way through a foreign city, especially such a city as Genoa, and come unexpectedly upon some building that one has heard of—that has dimly lived in the mind like a dream—and now to see it realised in fact. It suddenly starts into life, as it were, surrounded by its natural associations. I hate your professional guides and their constant chatter. Much better to come with a mind prepared with some history to fall back upon, and thus be enabled to compare the present with the past, the living with the dead.

I climbed up some of the hills surrounding Genoa—for it is a city of ups and downs. I wandered about the terraced palaces surrounded by orange groves and surveyed the fortified heights by which the place is surrounded. What exquisite bits of scenery there were to sketch; what a rich combination of nature and art! And what a world of colour, with the clear blue sea in the distance! Altogether, that one day at Genoa—though but a succession of glimpses formed a bright spot in my life, that neither time nor distance can dim or tarnish.

I returned to the harbour two hours before the steamer was to leave. To commemorate my visit, I mounted the top of the paddle-box, took out my sketch book, and made a panoramic view of Genoa as seen from the harbour. I did it in pencil at the time, and afterwards filled it up with ink. When the pages of the sketch book had been joined together the panoramic view extended to about eight feet long. The accuracy of the detail, as well as the speed with which the drawing was done, were perhaps rather creditable to the draughtsman—at least so my artistic friends were pleased to tell me. Indeed, many years after, a friend at court desired to submit it to the highest Lady in the land, and, being herself an artist, she expressed herself as highly gratified with the performance.

[Image] A monk on board

The next station the steamer touched at was Leghorn. As the vessel was not to start until next day, there was sufficient time for me to run up to Pisa. There I spent a delightful day principally in wandering about that glorious group of buildings situated so near to each other— the Cathedral, the Baptistery, the Campo Santo, and the Campanile or Leaning Tower. What interested me most at the Cathedral was the two bronze lamps suspended at the end of the nave, which suggested to the mind of Galileo the invention of the pendulum. Thousands had seen the lamps swinging before them, but he alone would know "the reason why." The one swung at a different rate as compared with the other, being the result of the chains being hung of different lengths. Hence Galileo's discovery of the principle or Law of the Pendulum. This paved the way for Newton's law of gravitation—one of the grandest laws of the universe.

Some of the finest works of Andrea del Sarto, son of the Tailor, are found here. Indeed, the works of that great painter are little known out of Pisa and Florence. I was reluctant to tear myself away from Pisa; but the Ercolano could not wait, and I was back in good time, and soon under weigh.

The next port we touched at was Civita Vecchia, one of the most dreary places that can be imagined, though at one time an Etruscan city, and afterwards the port of Trajan. I did not land, as there were some difficulties in the way of passports. We steamed on; and next morning when I awoke we were passing the coast of Ischia. We could scarcely see the island for a thick mist had over-spread the sea. Naples was still hidden from our sight, but over the mist I could observe the summit of Vesuvius vomiting forth dense clouds of white smoke. The black summit of the crater appeared floating in the clear blue sky. But the heat of the sun shortly warmed the mist, and it floated away like a curtain.

[Image] Distant view of Vesuvius

A grand panorama then lay before us. Naples looked bright and magnificent under the sunlight. The sea was so smooth that the buildings and towers and convents and spires were reflected in the water. On our left lay the Bay of Baiae, with its castles and temples and baths, dating from the days of the Roman Republic. To the right lay Castellamare, Sorrento, and the island of Capri. But the most prominent object was Vesuvius in front, with its expanding cloud of white smoke over the landscape. On landing, I took up my quarters at the Hotel Victoria. I sallied forth to take my first hasty view of the Chiaia, the streets, and the principal buildings. But, in accordance with my motto of "Duty first, pleasure second," I proceeded to attend to the business respecting which I had visited Naples. That, however, was soon disposed of. In a few days I was able to attend to pleasure. I made my way to the Museo Borbonico, now called the National Museum. I found it a rich mine of precious treasures, consisting of Greek, Etruscan, and Roman antiquities of every description. Not the least interesting part of the Museum is the collection of marbles, pictures, and articles of daily use, dug from the ruins of the buried city of Pompeii. Every spare hour that I could command was occupied in visiting and revisiting this wonderful Museum.

Herculaneum and Pompeii were also visited, but, more than all, the crater of Vesuvius. During my visit the mountain was in its normal state. I mounted the volcanic ashes with which it is strewn, and got to the top. There I could look down into the pit from which the clouds of steam are vomited forth. I went down to the very edge of the crater, stood close to its mouth, and watched the intermittent up-rushing of the blasts of vapour and sulphureous gases. To keep clear of these I stood to the windward side, and was thus out of harm's way.

What struck me most was the wonderfully brilliant colours of the rugged lava rocks forming the precipitous cliffs of the interior walls of the crater. These brilliant colours were the result of the sublimation and condensation on their surfaces of the combinations of sulphur and chloride of iron, quite as bright as if they had been painted with bright red, chrome, and all the most brilliant tints. Columns of all manner of chemical vapours ascended from the clefts and deep cracks, at the bottom of which I clearly saw the bright hot lava.

I rolled as big a mass of cool lava as I could to the edge of the crater and heaved it down; but I heard no sound. Doubtless the depth was vast, or it might probably have fallen into the molten lava, and thus made no noise. On leaving this horrible pit edge, I tied the card of the Bridgewater Foundry to a bit of lava and threw it in, as token of respectful civility to Vulcan, the head of our craft.

I had considerably more difficulty in clambering up to the top edge of the crater than I had in coming down. Once or twice, indeed, I was half choked by the swirls of sulphureous and muriatic acid vapour that environed me before I could reach the upper edge. I sat down in a nook, though it was a very hot one, and made a sketch or two of the appearance of the crater. But I feel that it is quite beyond my power either by pen or pencil, to convey an idea of the weird unearthly aspect which the funnel-shaped crater of Vesuvius presented at that time. An eruption of unusual violence had occurred shortly before I saw it. Great rounded blocks of lava had been thrown high into the air again and again, and had fallen back into the terrible focus of volcanic violence. Vast portions of the rugged and precipitous sides of the crater had fallen in, and were left in a state of the wildest confusion. When I visited the place the eruption had comparatively subsided. The throat of the crater was a rugged opening of more than forty feet diameter, leading down to—Where? Echo answers, "Where?" And yet there is no doubt but that the great mass of materials which lay around me as I made my sketches, had been shot up from inconceivable depths beneath the solid crust of the earth. There still remains an enormous mass of molten materials that has been shut up beneath that crust since the surface of the globe assumed its present condition. The mineral matter that formed the globe had converged towards its centre of gravity, and the arrestment of the momentum of the coalescing particles resulted in intense heat. Hence the molten condition of the globe in its primitive state. The molten lava of volcanoes is the survival of that original cosmical heat.

This heat has played a great part in the physical history of the globe. Volcanic action has been, as it were, the universal plough! It has given us mountains, hills, and valleys. It has given us picturesque scenery, gorges, precipices, waterfalls. The up heaving agent has displayed the mineral treasures of the earth, and enabled man, by intelligent industry, to use them as mines of material blessings. This is indeed a great and sublime subject.

I had remained near the mouth of the crater for about five hours. Evening was approaching. My drawings were finished, and I prepared to leave. My descent from the summit of the crater edge was comparatively rapid, though every footstep went down some fifteen inches through the volcanic ashes. I descended by the eastern side, and was soon at the base of the great cone. I made my way by tortuous walking round the erupted masses of lava, and also by portions of the lava streams, which, on losing their original fluidity, had become piled up and contorted into gigantic masses.

At the extreme edges of the flow, where the lava had become viscid, these folds and contortions were very remarkable. They were piled fold over fold,—the result of the mighty pressure from behind. It was sad to see so many olive gardens burnt and destroyed; the trees were as black as charcoal. It is singular to see the numbers of orange and olive growers who choose to live so near to the "fiery element." But the heat presses forward the growth of vegetation. To be there is like living in a hothouse; and the soil is extraordinarily fertile. Hence the number of vineyards quite close to the base of Vesuvius. The cultivators endeavour to enclose their gardens with hard masses of lava, so as to turn off the flow of the molten streams in other directions; but the lava bursts through the walls again and again, and the gardens are often utterly burnt up and ruined. Almost every field at the base of Vesuvius contains a neat little oratory, with a statue of the Virgin and Child, to which the cultivators repair in times of peril and calamity. But chapel, statue, and gardens are alike swept away by the tremendous descent of the molten lava.

As the night was growing dark, I made my way from these riskful farms to Rosina, a little village on the way back to Naples. As I had had nothing to eat or drink during this thirst-producing journey, I went into a wine shop and asked for some refreshment. The wine shop was a sort of vault, with a door like that of a coach-house, but with a bench and narrow table. The good woman brought me a great green glass bottle like a vitriol carboy! It contained more than six gallons of wine, and she left me with a big glass to satisfy my wants. The wine was the veritable Lachryma, Christi—a delightful light claret—for producing which the vineyards at the base of Vesuvius are famous. After some most glorious swigs from this generous and jovial carboy, accompanied with some delightful fresh made bread, I felt myself up to anything. After washing down the dust that I had swallowed during the day, I settled with my liberal landlady (indeed she was mightily pleased with only tenpence), and started for Naples.

I had still an eight-mile walk before me, but that was nothing to my vigorous powers at that time. The moon had risen during my stay in the wine house, and it shone with a bright clear light. After a few miles' walking I felt a little tired, for the day's exercise had been rather toilsome. A fine carriage passed me on the road with a most tempting platform behind. I hailed the driver, and was allowed to mount. I was soon bowling along the lava paved road, and in a short time I arrived at Naples. I made another excursion to the crater of Vesuvius before I left, as well as visits to Herculaneum and Pompeii, which exceedingly interested me. But these I need not attempt to relate. I refer my readers to Murray's Guide Book, where both are admirably described.

After completing my business affairs at Naples, and sowing the seeds of several orders, which afterwards bore substantial results, I left the city by the same line of steamers. I passed again Civita Vecchia, Leghorn, Genoa, and Marseilles. On passing through the South of France I visited the works of several of our employers, and carried back with me many orders. It was when at Creuzot that I saw the child of my brain, the steam hammer, in full and efficient work. But this I have referred to in a previous chapter.

CHAPTER 15. Steam Hammer Pile-driver.

In 1840 I furnished Sir Edward Parry with a drawing of my steam hammer, in the hope that I might induce him to recommend its adoption in the Royal Dockyards. Sir Edward was at that time the head director of the steam marine of England. That was after the celebrity he had acquired through his Arctic voyages. I was of opinion that the hammer might prove exceedingly useful in forging anchors and large iron work in those great establishments. Sir Edward appeared to be much struck with the simplicity and probable efficiency of the invention. But the Admiralty Board were very averse to introducing new methods of manufacturing into the dockyards. Accordingly, my interview with Sir Edward Parry, notwithstanding his good opinion, proved fruitless.

Time passed by. I had furnished steam hammers to the principal foundries in England. I had sent them abroad, even to Russia. At length it became known to the Lords of the Admiralty that a new power in forging had been introduced. This was in 1843, three years after I had submitted my design to Sir Edward Parry. The result was that my Lords appointed a deputation of intelligent officers to visit my foundry at Patricroft to see the new invention. It consisted of Captain Benison (brother of the late Speaker), and Captain Burgman, Resident Engineer at Devonport Dockyard. They were well able to understand the powerful agency of the steam hammer for marine forge work. I gave them every opportunity for observing its action. They were much pleased, and I may add astonished, at its range, power, and docility.

Besides showing them my own steam hammer, I took the deputation to the extensive works of Messrs. Rushton and Eckersley, where they saw one of my five-ton hammer-block steam hammers in full action. It was hammering out some wrought-iron forgings of the largest class, as well as working upon smaller forgings. By exhibiting the wide range of power of the steam hammer, these gentlemen were entirely satisfied of its fitness for all classes of forgings for the naval service. They reported to the Admiralty accordingly, and in a few days we received an official letter, with an order for a steam hammer having a 50 cwt. hammer-block, together with the appropriate boiler, crane, and forge furnace, so as to equip a complete forge shop at Devonport Dockyard. This was my first order from the Government for a steam hammer.

When everything was ready, I set out for Devonport to see the hammer and the other portions of the machinery carefully erected. In about a fortnight it was ready for its first stroke. As good luck would have it, the Lords of the Admiralty were making their annual visit of inspection to the dockyard that day. They arrived too late in the afternoon for a general inspection of the establishment; but they asked the superintending admiral if there was anything of importance which they might see before the day closed. The admiral told them that the most interesting novelty in the dockyard was the starting of Nasmyth's steam hammer. "Very well, they said, "let us go and see that".

I was there, with the two mechanics I had brought with me from Patricroft to erect the steam hammer. I took share and share alike in the work. The Lords were introduced to me, and I proceeded to show them the hammer. I passed it through its paces. I made it break an eggshell in a wine-glass without injuring the glass. It was as neatly effected by the two-and-a-half ton hammer as if it had been done by an egg-spoon. Then I had a great mass of white-hot iron swung out of the furnace by a crane and placed upon the anvil block. Down came the hammer on it with ponderous blows. My Lords scattered to the extremities of the workshop, for the splashes and sparks of hot metal flew about. I went on with the hurtling blows of the hammer, and kneaded the mass of iron as if it had been clay into its devised forms.

After finishing off the forging, my Lords gathered round the hammer again, when I explained to them the rationale of its working, and the details of its construction. They were greatly interested, especially Mr. Sidney Herbert (afterwards Lord Herbert of Lea), then Secretary to the Admiralty, and Sir George Cockburn, a fine specimen of the old admiral. Indeed, all the members of the Board were more or less remarkable men. They honoured me with their careful attention, and expressed their admiration at the hammer's wonderful range of power and delicacy of touch, in this new application of the force of steam.

The afternoon was a most important one for me in more ways than one, although I cannot venture to trouble my readers with the details. It was followed, however, by an order to supply all the Royal Dockyard forge departments with a complete equipment of steam hammers, and all the requisite accessories. These were supplied in due time, and gave in every case the highest satisfaction. The forgings were found to be greatly better, and almost absurdly cheaper than those done by the old bit by bit building-up process. The danger of flaws was entirely done away with; and, in the case of anchors, this was a consideration of life and death to the seamen, who depend for their safety upon the soundness of the forgings.

Besides my introduction to that admirable man, Mr. Sidney Herbert, I had the happiness of being introduced to Captain Brandreth, Director of Naval Works. The whole of the buildings on shore, including the dockyards, were under his control. One of the most important affairs that the Lords of the Admiralty had to attend to on their visit to Devonport was to conclude the contract for constructing the great docks at Keyham. This was a large extension of the Devonport Docks, intended for the accommodation of the great steamships of the Royal Navy, as well as for an increase of the graving docks and workshops for their repair. An immense portion of the shore of the Hamoaze had to be walled in so as to exclude the tide and enable the space to be utilised for the above purposes. To effect this a vast amount of pile-driving was rendered necessary, in order to form a firm foundation for the great outer dock wall, about a mile and a quarter in length.

Messrs. Baker and Sons were the contractors for this work. They were present at the first start of my steam hammer at Devonport. They were, like the others, much impressed by its vast power and manageableness. They had an interview with me as to its applicability for driving piles for the immense dock, this being an important part of their contract. Happily, I had already given some attention to this application of the powers of the steam hammer. In fact, I had secured a patent for it. I had the drawings for the steam hammer pile-driving machine with me. I submitted them to Mr. Baker, and he saw its importance in a moment. "That," he 'said, "is the very thing that I want to enable me to complete my contract satisfactorily." Thousands of enormous piles had to be driven down into the deep silt of the Shore; and to have driven them down by the old system of pile-driving would have occupied a long time, and would also have been very expensive.

The drawings were of course submitted to Captain Brandreth. He was delighted with my design. The steam pile-driver would be, in his opinion, the prime agent for effecting the commencement of the great work originated by himself. At first the feat of damming out such a high tide as that of the Hamoaze seemed very doubtful, because the stiff slate silt was a treacherous and difficult material to penetrate. But now, he thought, the driving would be rendered comparatively easy. With Captain Brandreth's consent the contractors ordered of me two of my steam hammer pile-drivers. They were to be capable of driving 18-inch square piles of 70 feet in length into the silt of the Hamoaze.

[Image] Space to be enclosed at the Hamoaze

This first order for my pile-driver was a source of great pleasure to me. I had long contemplated this application of the power of the steam hammer. The machine had long been in full action in my "mind's eye," and now I was to see it in actual reality. I wrote down to my partner by that night's post informing him of the happy circumstance. The order was for two grand steam hammer pile-drivers, each with four-ton hammer-blocks.The wrought-iron guide case and the steam cylinder were to weigh in all seven tons. All this weight was to rest on the shoulders of the pile. The blows were to be about eighty in the minute. This, I thought, would prove thoroughly effective in rapidly driving the piles down into the earth.

I have said that the steam pile-driver was in my mind's eye long before I saw it in action. It is one of the most delightful results of the possession of the constructive faculty, that one can build up in the mind mechanical structures and set them to work in imagination, and observe beforehand the various details performing their respective functions, as if they were in absolute material form and action. Unless this happy faculty exists ab initio in the brain of the mechanical engineer, he will have a hard and disappointing life before him. It is the early cultivation of the imagination which gives the right flexibility to the thinking faculties. Thus business, commerce, and mechanics are all the better for a little healthy imagination.

So soon as I had returned home, I set to work and prepared the working drawings of the steam pile-drivers. They were soon completed, conveyed to Devonport, and erected on the spot where they were to be used. They were ready on the 3d of July 1845. Some preliminary pile-driving had been done in the usual way, in order to make a stage or elevated way for my pile-driver to travel along the space where the permanent piles were to be driven. I arranged my machines so that they might travel by their own locomotive powers along the whole length of the coffer dam, and also that they should hoist up the great logs of Baltic timber which formed the Piles into their proper places before being driven.

The entire apparatus of the machine was erected on a strong timber platform, and was placed on wheels, so that it might move along the rails laid down upon the timber way. The same boiler that supplied the steam hammer part of the apparatus served to work the small steam-engine fixed to the platform for its locomotion, and also to perform the duty of rearing the next pile which had to be driven. The steam was conveyed to the hammer cylinder by the jointed pipe seen in the annexed engraving. The pipe accommodated itself to any elevation or descent of the hammer. The whole weight of the cylinder, hammer-block, and guide box, supported by the shoulders of the pile, amounting to seven tons in all, rested upon the shoulders of the pile as a "persuader;" and the eighty blows per minute of the four-ton hammer came down with tremendous energy upon the top of the pile head. No soil, that piles could penetrate, could resist such effective agencies.

[Image] Diagram of the Steam Pile-Driver

Explanation of the Diagram of the Steam Pile-Driver.—The chief feature of novelty of this pile-driving machine consists in the employment of the direct action of the Steam Hammer as the blow giving agent, and also in the manner in which the dead weight of the entire apparatus, consisting of the hammer-block C, the steam cylinder A, and its guide-case B, is employed to importantly aid the effect of the rapid and energetic blows of the steam hammer. These ponderous parts rest on the shoulders of the pile H all the while it is being driven, the pile in this respect being the only support of the apparatus A B C. So that, besides the eighty blows per minute that the four-ton steam hammer energetically deals out to the head of the pile from a four foot fall the dead weight of the apparatus constantly acts as a most effective "predisposer" to the sinking of the pile into the ground; the hoisting chain D being let slack the while, so as to allow A B C to "follow down" the pile H, while the eighty blows per minute are incessantly showered on its head. The upward stroke of the piston, with its attached hammer-block C, is arrested at the proper height not only by allowing the steam that raised it to escape, but as soon as the piston passes the escape holes X X, the confined air above the piston at O rebounds, and so aids most effectively in increasing the energy of the fall of the hammer-block C on the pile head.

There was a great deal of curiosity in the dockyard as to the action of the new machine. The pile-driving machine-men gave me a good-natured challenge to vie with them in driving down a pile. They adopted the old method, while I adopted the new one. The resident managers sought out two great pile logs of equal size and length—70 feet long and 18 inches square. At a given signal we started together. I let in the steam, and the hammer at once began to work. The four-ton block showered down blows at the rate of eighty a minute; and in the course of four and a half minutes my pile was driven down to the required depth. The men working at the ordinary machine had only begun to drive. It took them upwards of twelve hours to complete the driving of their pile!

Such a saving of time in the performance of similar work—by steam versus manual labour—had never before been witnessed. The energetic action of the steam hammer, sitting on the shoulders of the pile high up aloft, and following it suddenly down, the rapidly hammered blows keeping time with the flashing out of "the waste steam at the end of each stroke, was indeed a remarkable sight. When my pile was driven, the hammer-block and guide case were speedily re-hoisted by the small engine that did all the labouring and locomotive work of the machine; the steam hammer portion of which was then lowered on to the shoulders of the next pile in succession. Again it set to work. At this the spectators crowding about in boats, pronounced their approval in the usual British style of "three cheers!" My new pile-driver was thus acknowledged as another triumphant proof of the power of steam.

The whole of the piles for this great work were speedily driven in. The wall was constructed, and the docks were completed in an unusually short time. The success of my pile-driver was followed by numerous orders. It was used for driving the immense piles required for the High Level Bridge at Newcastle, the great Border Bridge at Berwick-upon-tweed, the Docks at Tynemouth, the Docks at Birkenhead, the Docks at Grimsby, the new Westminster Bridge, the great bridge at Kief in Russia, the bridge at Petersburg, the forts at Cronstadt, the Embarrage of the Nile, at Yokohama in Japan, and at other places. It enabled a solid foundation to be laid for the enormous superstructures erected over them, and thus contributed to the permanence of many important undertakings.

The mechanical principles on which the efficiency of the steam pile-driver chiefly depends are as simple as I believe they are entirely novel and original. The shoulder of the pile acts as the sole supporter of the ponderous mass of the hammer-block, cylinder, and guide-box. This heavy weight acts as a predisposing agency to force the pile down, while the momentum given by the repeated fall of the hammer, at eighty blows the minute, brings the constant dead weight into full action. I am not aware of any other machine in which such a combination of mechanical forces is employed.

Another very effective detail consisted in employing the waste steam in the upper part of the cylinder for the purpose of acting as a buffer to resist any undue length of the upward stroke of the piston. But for this the cylinder covers might have been knocked off. The elastic buffer of waste steam also acted as a help to the downward blow of the hammer-block. The simplicity and effectiveness of these arrangements form—if I may be allowed to say so—a happy illustration of my "Definition of Engineering," the application of common sense in the use of materials.

The folding-up steam pipe with which the steam was conveyed from the boiler to the cylinder at all heights, and the way in which the folding joints accommodated themselves to the varying height of the cylinder, was another of my happy thoughts. In fact, this invention, like most others, was the result of a succession of happy thoughts. The machine in its entirety was the result of a number of common-sense contrivances, such as I generally delight in. At all events, this most effective and novel machine was a special favourite with me.

I may mention, before concluding this branch of my subject, that pile-driving had before been conducted on what I might term the artillery or cannon-ball principle. A small mass of iron was drawn slowly up, and suddenly let down on the head of the pile at a high velocity. This was destructive, not impulsive action. Sometimes the pile was shivered into splinters, without driving it into the soil; in many cases the head of the pile was shattered into matches, and this in spite of a hoop of iron about it to keep the layers of wood together. Yet the whole was soon beat into a sort of brush. Indeed, a great portion of the men's time was consumed in "reheading" the piles. On the contrary, I employed great mass and moderate velocity. The fall of the steam hammer-block was only three or four feet, but it went on at eighty blows the minute, and the soil into which the pile was driven never had time to grip or thrust it up— an impediment well known to ordinary pile-drivers. At the end of the driving by my steam hammer, the top of the pile was always found neat and smooth, indeed more so than when the driving began.

I may again revert to my interview with the Lords of the Admiralty on the occasion of my first meeting them at Devonport. I was residing at the hotel where they usually took up their quarters while making their annual visitation of the dockyard. I was honoured with an invitation to confer with Sir George Cockburn, Mr. Sidney Herbert, and Captain Brandreth on a subject of considerable importance; namely, the proving of chain cables and anchors required for the Royal Navy. The question was mooted as to whether or not some permanent injury was done to both by the test strains to which they were submitted before being put on board ship. This was a subject of vital importance. The members of the Board requested me to act as one of a committee to inquire into the subject. I felt much gratified by the invitation and gladly accepted it.

On discussing the subject with these gentlemen that evening, I found that Sir George Cockburn entertained an ingenious theory in support of his apprehensions as the effect of "over-proof" straining of cables and anchors. It was that they were originally in the condition of a strong man who had to lift some heavy weight, requiring him to exert his muscular strength to the utmost; and, although he might perform the feat, it was at the cost of a permanent injury, and that he might never be able to lift the same weight again. This, however true it might be with regard to flesh and bone structures, was scarcely true with respect to mechanical agencies. I proposed a simple experiment with chain cables, which, it occurred to me, would show quite a different result—namely, that the capability of resisting the severest proof-strain would rise rather than fall at each successive proof of the same chain cable.

To test the correctness of my supposition, we had a first-class chain cable put into the proof machine,and subjected it to such a strain as to break it again and again, until at last it was divided almost into single links. As I expected, the proof or breaking strain kept rising and rising as each successive remaining portion of the cable was torn asunder, thus showing that no injury to the natural tenacity of the chain had resulted from the increased proofs to which it had been subjected, and that the last broken links had been much more resisting than the first. The same class of demonstrative experiments was made with anchors, and other wrought-iron work used in the service. The Admiralty officers were much gratified with the result, as removing a groundless but very natural apprehension, heightened, no doubt, by the suggestions that had been made to the Admiralty, that their standard proof strain was not only too high in itself, but produced permanent damage to what at the outset was of the toughest iron. My system of continued proof-straining was, in fact, another exemplification of the "Survival of the Fittest"!

A very interesting truth came out in the course of our experiments. It was that the chief cause of failure in the links of chain cables arose, not so much from their want of tenacity, or from the quality of the iron, but from some defective welding in the making of the links. To get at this truth, many excellent cables as received from the contractors, as well as veteran ones that had held great ships riding at anchor in terrible gales, were pulled asunder link by link by an intentional destructive strain by the proving machine. An exact account was taken of the nature of the fracture of each. The result was that in eight cases out of ten, the fracture was found to result from a defectively welded part of the chain-link. The practically trained eye could see the scoria which indicates the defective welding. Though long unseen, it was betrayed at once when the link was torn open by the proof strain.

My services on this committee proved a source of great enjoyment to me. I had frequent occasion to visit the dockyards and workshops, accompanied by Captain Brandreth, surveyor-general of the Admiralty landworks,Mr. Thomas Lloyd, engineer-in-chief of the Admiralty, and Mr. Jeremiah Owen, chief of the metal material required in the equipment of the navy I was requested to suggest any improvement in the workshops that I thought would add to the efficiency of the department; and I trust that my recommendations proved of practical good to the service. At the same time, I have reason to know that many of the recommendations of the committee, though cordially acknowledged by the higher powers, were by a sort of passive resistance practically shelved.

I was much amused, when I first went to Devonport dockyard, to notice the punctilious observance of forms and ceremonies with respect to the various positions of officials—from the admiral-superintendent down the official grades of dignity, to the foremen of departments, and so on. I did not care for all this panjandrum of punctiliousness, but was, I hope, civil and chatty with everybody. I had a good word for the man as well as for the foreman. I received some kind and good-natured hints as to the relative official superiority that prevailed in the departments, and made out a scale or list of the various strata accordingly. This gamut of eminence was of use to me in my dealings with dockyard officials. I was enabled to mind my p's and q's in communicating with them.

The first Sunday that I spent at Devonport I went to the dockyard church—the church appointed for officials and men employed by the Government. The seats were appointed in the order of rank, employments, and rate of pay. The rows of seats were all marked with the class of employers that were expected to sit in them. Labourers were near the door. The others were in successive rows forward, until the pew of the "Admiral Superintendent," next the Altar rails, was reached. I took my seat among the "artificers," being of that order. On coming out of church the master-attendant, next in dignity to the admiral-superintendent, came up to me to say how distressed he was to see me "among the artificers," and begged me in future to use his seat. No doubt this was kindly intended, and I thanked him for his courtesy. Nevertheless I kept to my class of artificers. I did not like the "breest o' the laft'"* [footnote... The breest o' the laft is the seat of dignity. The best places in churches are occupied by "superior" people. In Scotland the chief men —the Provosts, Bailies, and Councillors—have a seat appropriated to them in the front part of the gallery, generally opposite the minister. That is "the breest o' the laft." The same principle pervades society generally. ...] principle. No doubt the love of distinction, within reasonable limits, is a great social prime mover; but at Devonport, with the splitting up into ranks, even amongst workmen, I found it simply amusing, especially when introduced into a church.

I afterwards met with several veterans in the service of the Admiralty, who are well served by such experienced and well-selected men. It is the schemers and the satellites who haunt the contractors that are the vermin of dockyards. I gave them all a very wide berth. But worst of all are the men who get their employment through parliamentary influence. They are a detestable set. They always have some "grievance" to pester people about. I hope things are better now.

I may add, with respect to the steam hammer pile-driving machines, that I received an order for two of them from Mohammed Ali, the Pasha of Egypt. These were required for driving the piles in that great work —the barrage of the Nile near Cairo. The good services of these machines so pleased the Pasha that he requested us to receive three selected Arab men into our works. He asked that they should have the opportunity of observing the machinery processes and the system of management of an English engineering factory. The object of the Pasha was that the men should return to Egypt and there establish an engine manufactory, so as to render him in a measure independent of foreign help. For British workmen, when imported into Egypt, had a great tendency to degenerate when removed from the wholesome stimulus to exertion in competition with their fellows.

My firm had no objection to the introduction of the Arab workmen. Accordingly, one day we received a visit from an excellent Egyptian officer, Edim Bey, accompanied by his secretary Rushdi Effendi, who spoke English fluently. He thus made our interview with the Bey easy and agreeable. He conveyed to us, in the most courteous manner, the wishes of the Pasha; and the three workmen were at once received. Every opportunity was given them to observe and understand the works going forward. They were intelligent-looking young men, about twenty-five years of age. One of them was especially bright looking, quick in the expression of his eyes, and active in his manner, His name was Affiffi Lalli; the names of the others I forget.

These young men were placed under charge of the foremen of the departments that each fancied to be most to his taste. Affiffi was placed in the fitting department, in which skilful manipulation was required. He exhibited remarkable aptitude, and was soon able to hold his own alongside of our best workmen. Another was set to the turning department, and did fairly well. The third was placed in the foundry, where he soon became efficient in moulding and casting brass and iron work. He lent a hand all round, and picked up a real practical knowledge of the various work in his department. During their sojourn in our works they became friendly with their colleagues; and in fact became quite favourites with the men, who were always willing to help them. But Affiffi Lalli was regarded as the genius of the trio. He showed a marked and intelligent aptitude for acquiring technical skill in all the branches of our business.

After remaining with us for about four years they were ready to return to Cairo, and show what they had learned in practical and technical mechanical knowledge during their stay in England. The three Arab workmen were placed in their suitable departments in the Pasha's work shops. But such was the natural energy of Affiffi, that when he was set to work beside the slow, dilatory, and stupid native workmen, he became greatly irritated. The contrast between the active energetic movements which he had seen at the Bridgewater Foundry and the ineffective, blundering, and untechnical work of his fellows was such that he could not stand it any longer. So one fine day he disappeared from the works, took refuge on board a British steamer, and at the risk of his neck made his way back to the Bridgewater Foundry!

As we were reluctant to take back a man who had escaped from the Pasha's employment—excellent workman though he was—we declined to employ him. But I gave Affiffi a note of introduction to Boulton and Watt of Soho, Birmingham, and there he was employed. He afterwards passed into other firms, and having employed his skill in making some needle machinery at Redditch, he settled down there. He married a Warwickshire lass, and had a family—half Arab, half English— and has now a thriving foundry and engineer workshop of his own. This little narrative shows that the Arab has still much of the wonderful energy and skill that once made the Moors masters of a large part of South-Western Europe.

We had many visitors at the foundry—from London, from the manufacturing districts, and from foreign countries. One day a young gentleman presented a letter from Michael Faraday, dated "Royal Institution, 29th May 1847," requesting me to pay him some attention and show him round the works. I did so with all my heart, and wrote to Mr. Faraday intimating how much pleasure it gave me to serve him in any respect. I cannot refrain from giving his answer. He said:

"MY DEAR SIR—That you should both show kindness to the bearer of my letter, and prove that you did so with pleasure by writing me a letter in return, was indeed more than I ought or could have expected; but it was very gratifying and pleasant to my mind. I only wish that the circumstances of my life were such as to enable me to take advantage of such goodwill on your part, and to be more in your company and conversation than is at present possible.

"I could imagine great pleasure from such a condition of things; but though our desires, and even our hopes at times spread out beforehand over a large extent, it is wonderful how, as the future becomes the present, the circumstances that surround us limit the sphere to which our real life is circumscribed If ever I come your way I hope to see your face; and the hope is pleasant, though the reality may never arrive.

"You tell me of the glorious work of your pile-driver, and it must be indeed a great pleasure to witness the result. Is it not Shakespeare who says, 'The pleasure we delight in physics pain'? In all your fatigue and labour you must have this pleasure in abundance, and a most delightful and healthy enjoyment it is. I shall rejoice to see some day a blow of the driver and a tap of the hammer.

"You speak of some experiments on hardening and tempering steel in which we can help you. I hope when you do come to town you will let us have the pleasure of doing so. Our apparatus, such as it is, shall be entirely at your service. I made, a long while ago, a few such experiments on steel wire, but could eliminate no distinct or peculiar results. You will know how to look at things, and at your hand I should expect much.

"Here we are just lecturing away, and I am too tired to attempt anything, much less to do anything just now; but the goodwill of such men as you is a great stimulus, and will, I trust even with me, produce something else praiseworthy.

Ever, my dear Nasmyth, yours most truly, M. FARADAY."

CHAPTER 16. Nuremberg—St. Petersburg—Dannemora.

In the autumn of 1842 I had occasion to make a journey to Nuremberg in company with my partner Mr. Gaskell. We had been invited to a conference with the directors of the Nuremberg and Munich Railroad as to the supply of locomotives for working their line. As this was rather an important and extensive transaction, we thought it better not to trust to correspondence, but to see the directors on the spot. We found that there were several riskful conditions attached to the proposed contract, which we considered it imprudent to agree to. We had afterwards good reason to feel satisfied that we had not yielded to the very tempting commercial blandishments that were offered to us, but that we refrained from undertaking an order that required so many important modifications.

Nevertheless, I was exceedingly delighted with the appearance of the city of Nuremberg. It carries one back to the mediaeval times! The architecture, even of the ordinary houses, is excellent. St. Lawrence, St. Sebald's, and the Frauenkirche, are splendid specimens of Gothic design. The city is surrounded by old walls and turrets, by ramparts and bastions, enclosed by a ditch faced with masonry. Very few cities have so well escaped the storm of war and sieges in the Middle Ages, and even in modern times. Everything has been carefully preserved, and many of the best houses are still inhabited by the families whose forefathers originally constructed them. But "progress" is beginning to affect Nuremberg. It is the centre of railways; buildings are extending in all directions; tram-cars are running in the streets; and before long, I fear, the ditch will be filled up, the surrounding picturesque walls and towers demolished, and the city thrown open to the surrounding country.

I visited the house of Albert Durer, one of the greatest artists who ever lived. He was a man of universal genius—a painter, sculptor, engraver, mathematician, and engineer. He was to Germany what Leonardo da Vinci was to Italy. His house is wonderfully preserved. You see his entrance hall, his exhibition room, his bedroom, his studio, and the opening into which his wife—that veritable Xantippe —thrust the food that was to sustain him during his solitary hours of labour. I saw his grave, too, in the old churchyard beyond the Thiergarten gate. I saw the bronze plate commemorating the day of his death. "Emigravit 8 idus Aprilis 1528." "Emigravit" only, for the true artist never dies. Hans Sachs's grave is there too—the great Reformation poet of Luther's time.

Adam Krafft must have been a great sculptor, though his name is little known out of Nuremberg. Perhaps his finest work is in St. Lawrence Cathedral—the Sacramentshauslein, or the repository for the sacred wafer—a graceful tapering stone spire of florid Gothic open work, more than sixty feet high, which stands at the opening of the right transept. Its construction and decoration occupied the sculptor and his two apprentices no less than five years; and all that he received for his hard labour and skilful work was 770 gulden, or about #80 sterling. No wonder that he died in the deepest distress. St. Sebald's and the Frauenkirche also contain numerous specimens of his admirable work.

In the course of the following year (1843) it was necessary for me to make a journey to St. Petersburg. My object was to endeavour to obtain an order for a portion of the locomotives required for working the line between that city and Moscow. The railway had been constructed under the engineership of Major Whistler, father of the well-known artist; and it was shortly about to be opened. It appeared that the Emperor Nicholas was desirous of securing a home supply of locomotives, and that, like a wise monarch, he wished to employ his own subjects rather than foreigners in producing them. No one could object to this.

The English locomotive manufacturers were not aware of the Emperor's intention. When I arrived in the city I expected an order for locomotives. The representatives of the principal English firms were there like myself; they, too, expected a share of the order. It so happened that at the table d'hote dinner I sat near a very intelligent American, with whom I soon became intimate. He told me that he was very well acquainted with Major Whistler, and offered to introduce me to him. By all means! There is no thing like friendly feelings in matters of business.

The Major gave me a frank and cordial reception, and informed me of the position of affairs. The Emperor, he said, was desirous of training a class of Russian mechanics to supply not only the locomotives but to keep them constantly in repair. He could not solely depend upon foreign artisans for the latter purpose. The locomotives must be made in Russia. The Emperor had given up the extensive premises of the Imperial China Manufactory, which were to be devoted to the manufacture of engines.

The Major appointed Messrs. Eastwick, Harrison, and Wynants, to supply the entire mechanical plant of the railway. I saw that it would be of no use to apply for any order for locomotives; but I offered to do all that I could to supply the necessary details. In the course of a few days I was introduced to Joseph Harrison, the chief mechanic of the firm; and I then entered into a friendship which proved long and lasting. He gave me a large order for boilers, and for detail parts of the Moscow engines—all of which helped him forward in the completion of the locomotives. We also supplied many of our special machine tools, without which engines could not then be very satisfactorily made or kept in repair. In this way I was in all respects highly remunerated for my journey.

The enjoyment of my visit to St. Petersburg was much enhanced by frequent visits to my much valued friend General Alexander Wilson. He was a native of Edinburgh, and delighted to enjoy cracks with me upon subjects of mutual interest. His sister, who kept house for him, joined in our conversation. She had been married to the Emperor Paul's physician, who was also a Scotsman, and was able to narrate many terrible events in relation to Russian Court affairs. The General had worked his way upwards, like the rest of us. During the principal part of his life he had superintended the great mechanical establishments at Alexandrosky and Colpenha, where about 3000 operatives were employed. These establishments were originally founded by the Empress Catherine for the purpose of creating a native manufacturing population capable of carrying on textile and mechanical works of all kinds. The sail-cloth for the Russian navy was manufactured at Alexandrosky by excellent machinery. Cotton fabrics were also manufactured, as well as playing cards, which were a Crown monopoly. The great establishment at Colpenha consisted of a foundry, a machine manufactory, and a mint— where the copper money of the empire was coined. General Wilson was the directing chief officer of all these establishments.

Through him I had the happiness of being introduced to General Greg, son of the great admiral who shed such honour on the Russian flag during the reign of the Empress Catherine. He was then well advanced in years, but full of keen intelligence and devoted to astronomical pursuits. He was in a great measure the founder of the Imperial Observatory at Pulkowa, situated on an appropriate eminence about eight miles from St. Petersburg. The observatory was furnished under his directions with the most magnificent astronomical instruments. I had the honour to be introduced by him to the elder Struve, whose astronomical labours procured him a well-earned reputation throughout Europe. I had the rare happiness of spending some nights with Struve, when he showed me the wonderful capabilities of his fine instruments. The observatory is quite imperial in its arrangement and management, and was supported in the most liberal manner by the Emperor Nicholas. Indeed, it is a perfect example of what so noble an establishment should be.

Struve most kindly invited me to come whenever the state of the weather permitted him to show forth the wonderful perfection of his instruments,—a rare chance, which I seized every opportunity of enjoying. It was quite a picture to see the keen interest and intense enjoyment with which the profound astronomer would seat himself at his instrument and pick out some exquisite test objects, such as the double stars in Virgo, Cygnus, or Ursa Major. The beautiful order and neatness with which the instruments were kept in their magnificent appropriate apartments, each having its appropriate observer proceeding quietly with his allotted special work, with nothing to break the silence but the "tick, tack!" of the sidereal clock—this was indeed a most impressive sight! And the kindly companionable manner of the great master of the establishment was in all respects in harmony with the astronomical work which he conducted in this great Temple of the Universe!

Through my friendship with General Wilson I was enabled to extend my acquaintance with many of my countrymen who had been long settled at St. Petersburg in connection with commercial affairs. I enjoyed their kind hospitality, and soon found myself quite at home amongst them. I remained in the city for about two months. During that time I was constantly about. The shops, the streets, the houses, the museums, were objects of great interest. The view of the magnificent buildings along the sides of the quay is very imposing. Looking from the front of the statue of Peter the Great you observe the long facade of the Admiralty, the column of Alexander, the Winter Palace, and other public buildings. The Neva flows in front of them in a massive volume of pure water. On an island opposite stands the citadel. The whole presents a coup d'oeil of unexampled architectural magnificence.

I was much interested by the shops and their signboards. The latter were fixed all over the fronts of the shops, and contained a delineation of the goods sold within. There was no necessity for reading. The pictorial portraits told their own tale. They were admirable specimens of what is called still-life pictures; not only as regards the drawing and colouring of each object, but with respect to the grouping, which was in most cases artistic and natural. Two reasons were given me for this style of artistic sign-painting: one was that many of the people could not read the written words defining the articles sold within; and the other was that the severe and long-continued frosts of the St. Petersburg winter rendered large shop windows impossible for the proper display of the goods. Hence the small shop-windows to keep out the cold, and the large painted signboards to display the articles sold inside.

I was also greatly pleased with the manner in which the Russians employ ivy in screening their windows during summer. Ivy is a beautiful plant, and is capable of forming a most elegant window-screen. Nothing can be more beautiful than to look through green leaves. Nearly every window of the ground flat of the houses in St. Petersburg is thus screened. The neat manner in which the ivy plants are trained over ornamental forms of cane is quite a study in its way. And though the ivy is very common, yet a common thing, being a thing of beauty, may be a "joy for ever." In the finer and most important mansions, the sides of the flight of wide steps that lead up to the reception rooms were beautifully decorated by oleander plants, growing in great vigour, with their fine flowers as fresh as if in a carefully-kept conservatory. Other plants of an ornamental kind were mixed with the oleander, but the latter appeared to be the favourite.* [footnote... While passing through Lubeck on my way out to St. Petersburg I was much struck with the taste for flower-plants displayed by the people of that old-world city. The inner side of the lower house windows were all beautifully decorated with flowers, which were evidently well cared for. Some of the windows were almost made up with flowers. Perhaps the long-continued winter of these parts has caused the people to study and practise within-door culture with such marked success. It is a most elegant pursuit, and should be cultivated everywhere. It is thoroughly in character with the exquisite cleanliness and tidiness of the houses at Lubeck. ...]