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Chapter
CHAPTER 6
Mechanical Beginnings
Contents
Study
arithmetic and geometry , Practise art of
drawing , Its important uses , Make tools and blowpipe
, Walks
round Edinburgh , Volcanic origin of
the neighbourhood , George the Fourth's
vist , The Radical Road , Destructive fires , Journey to Stirling , The Devon Ironworks , Robert Bald , Carron Ironworks , Coats of mail found
at Bannockburn , Models of condensing
steam-engine , Professor Leslie , Edinburgh School of Arts , Attend University classes , Brass-casting in the bedroom , George Douglass , Make a working
steam-engine , Sympathy of activity , The Expansometer , Make a road
steam-carriage , Desire to enter
Maudslay's factory
I LEFT the High School
at the end of 1820. I carried with me a small amount of Latin,
and no Greek. I do not think I was much the better for my small
acquaintance with the dead languages. I wanted something more
living and quickening. I continued my studies at private classes.
Arithmetic and geometry were my favourite branches.The three
first books of Euclid were to me a new intellectual life. They
brought out my power of reasoning. They trained me mentally. They
enabled me to arrive at correct conclusions, and to acquire a
knowledge of absolute truths. It is because of this that I have
ever since held the beautifully perfect method of reasoning, as
exhibited in the exact method of arriving at Q.E.D., to be one of
the most satisfactory efforts and exercises of the human
intellect.
Besides visiting and
taking part in the works at Patterson's foundry, and joining in
the chemical experiments at Smith's laboratory, my father gave me
every opportunity for practising the art of drawing. He taught me
to sketch with exactness every object, whether natural or
artificial, so as to enable the hand to accurately reproduce what
the eye had seen. In order to acquire this almost invaluable art,
which can serve so many valuable purposes in life, he was careful
to educate my eye, so that I might perceive the relative
proportions of the objects placed before me. He would throw down
at random a number of bricks, or pieces of wood representing
them, and set me to copy their forms, their proportions, their
lights and shadows respectively.
I have often heard him
say that any one who could make a correct drawing in regard to
outline, and also indicate by a few effective touches the
variation of lights and shadows of such a group of model
object's, might not despair of making a good and correct sketch
of the exterior of York Minster!
My father was an
enthusiast in praise of this graphic language, and I have
followed his example. In fact, it formed a principal part of my
own education. It gave me the power of recording observations
with a few graphic strokes of the pencil, which far surpassed in
expression any number of mere words. This graphic eloquence is
one of the highest gifts in conveying clear and correct ideas as
to the forms of objects -- whether they be those of a simple and
familiar kind, or of some form of mechanical construction, or of
the details of fine building, or the characteristic features of a
wide-stretching landscape. This accomplishment of accurate
drawing, which I achieved for the most part in my father's
work-room, served me many a good turn in future years with
reference to the engineering work which became the business of my
life.
I was constantly busy.
Mind, hands, and body were kept in a state of delightful and
instructive activity. When not drawing, I occupied myself in my
father's workshop at the lathe, the furnace, or the bench. I
gradually became initiated into every variety of mechanical and
chemical manipulation. I made my own tools and constructed my
chemical apparatus, as far as lay in my power. With respect to
the latter, I constructed a very handy and effective blowpipe
apparatus, consisting of a small air force-pump, connected with a
cylindrical vessel of tin plate. By means of an occasional use of
the handy pump, it yielded such a fine steady blowpipe blast, as
enabled me to bend glass tubes and blow bulbs for thermometers,
to analyse metals or mineral substances, or to do any other work
for which intense heat was necessary. My natural aptitude for
manipulation, whether in mechanical or chemical operations,
proved very serviceable to myself as well as to others; and (as
will be shown hereafter) it gained for me the friendship of many
distinguished scientific men.
But I did not devote
myself altogether to experiments. Exercise is as necessary for
the body as the mind. Without full health a man cannot enjoy
comfort, nor can he possess endurance. I therefore took plenty of
exercise out of doors. I accompanied my father in his walks round
Edinburgh. My intellect was kept alive during these delightful
excursions. For sometimes my father was accompanied by
brother-artists, whose conversation is always so attractive; and
sometimes by scientific men, such as Sir James Hall, Professor
Leslie, Dr. Brewster, and others. Whatever may have been my
opportunities for education so-called, nothing could have better
served the purpose of real education (the evolution of the
mental faculties) than the opportunities I enjoyed while
accompanying and listening to the conversation of men
distinguished for their originality of thought and their high
intellectual capacity. This was a mental culture of the best
kind.
The volcanic origin of
the beautiful scenery round Edinburgh was often the subject of
their conversation. Probably few visitors are aware that all
those remarkable eminences, which give to the city and its
surroundings so peculiar and romantic an aspect, are the results
of the operation, during inconceivably remote ages, of volcanic
force penetrating the earth's crust by disruptive power, and
pouring forth streams of molten lava, now shrunk and cooled into
volcanic rock. The observant eye, opened by the light of Science,
can see unmistakable evidences of a condition of things which
were in action at periods so remote as, in comparison, to shrink
up the oldest of human records into events of yesterday.
I had often the
privilege of standing by and hearing the philosophic Leslie,
Brewster, and Hall, discussing these volcanic remains in their
actual presence; sometimes at Arthur's Seat or on the Calton
Hill, or at the rock on which Edinburgh Castle stands, Their
observations sank indelibly into my memory, and gave me the key
to the origin of this grand class of terrestrial phenomena. When
standing at the "Giant's Ribs," on the south side of
Arthur's Seat, I felt as if one of the grandest pages of the
earth's history lay open before me. The evidences of similar
volcanic action abound in many other places near Edinburgh; and
they may be traced right across Scotland from the Bass Rock to
Fingal's Cave, the Giant's Causeway in Antrim, and Slievh League
on the south-west coast of Donegal in Ireland.
Volcanic action, in
some inconceivably remote period of the earth's crust history,
has been the Plough, and after denudation by water, has
been the Harrow, by which the originally deep-seated
mineral treasures of the globe have been brought within the reach
of man's industrial efforts. It has thus yielded him
inexhaustible mineral harvests, and helped him to some of the
most important material elements in his progress towards
civilisation. It is from this consideration that, while enjoying
the results of these grand fundamental actions of the Creator's
mighty agencies in their picturesque aspect, the knowledge of
their useful results to man adds vastly to the grandeur of the
contemplation of their aspect and nature. This great subject caused
me, even at this early period of my life, to behold with special
interest the first peep at the structure of the moon's surface,
as revealed to me by an excellent Ramsden "spy-glass,"
which my father possessed, and thus planted the seed of that
earnest desire to scrutinise more minutely the moon's wonderful
surface, which in after years I pursued by means of the powerful
reflecting telescopes constructed by myself.
To turn to another
subject. In 1822 the loyalty of Scotland was greatly excited when
George the Fourth paid his well-known visit to Edinburgh. It was
then the second greatest city in the kingdom, and had not been
visited by royalty for about 170 years. The civic authorities,
and the inhabitants generally, exerted themselves to the utmost
to give the king a cordial welcome, in spite of a certain feeling
of dissatisfaction as to his personal character. The recent trial
and death of Queen Caroline had not been forgotten, yet all such
recollections were suppressed in the earnest desire to show every
respect to the royal visitor. Edinburgh was crowded with people
from all parts of the country; heather was arrayed on every
bonnet and hat; and the reception was on the whole magnificent.
Perhaps the most impressive spectacle was the orderliness of the
multitude, all arrayed in their Sunday clothes. The streets,
windows; and house-tops were crowded; and the Calton Hill,
Salisbury Crags, and even Arthur's Seat it self, were covered
with people. On the night before the arrival a gigantic bonfire
on Arthur's Seat lit up with a tremendous blaze the whole city,
as well as the surrounding country. It formed a magnificent and
picturesque sight, illuminating the adjacent mountains as well as
the prominent features of the city. It made one imagine that the
grand old volcanic mountain had once more, after a rest of some
hundreds of thousands of years, burst out again in its former
vehemence of eruptive activity.
There were, of course,
many very distinguished men who took part in the pageant of the
king's entry into Edinburgh, but none of them had their presence
more cordially acknowledged than Sir Walter Scott, who never felt
more proud of "his own romantic town" than he did upon
this occasion. It is unnecessary to mention the many interesting
features of the royal reception. The king's visit lasted for
seven or eight days, and everything passed off loyally, orderly,
happily, and successfully.
Shortly after this time
there was a great deal of distress among the labouring classes.
All the manufacturing towns were short of employment, and the
weavers and factory workers were thrown upon the public. Many of
the workmen thought that politics were the causes of their
suffering. Radical clubs were formed, and the Glasgow weavers
began to drill at nights in the hopes of setting things to rights
by means of physical force. A large number of the starving
weavers came to Edinburgh. A committee was formed, and
contributions were collected, for the purpose of giving them
temporary employment. They were set to work to make roads and
walks round the Calton Hill and Crags. The fine walk immediately
under the precipitous crags, which opens out such perfect
panoramic views of Edinburgh, was made by these poor fellows. It
was hard work for their delicate hands and fingers, which before
had been accustomed only to deal with threads and soft fabrics.
They were very badly suited for handling the mattock, shovel, and
hand-barrow. The result of their labours, however, proved of
great advantage to Edinburgh in opening up the beauties of its
scenery. The road round the crags is still called "The
Radical Road."
Let me here mention one
of the most memorable incidents of the year 1824. I refer to the
destructive fire which took place in the old town of Edinburgh.
It broke out in an apartment situated in one of the highest piles
of houses in the High Street. In spite of every effort of the
firemen the entire pile was gutted and destroyed. The fire was
thought to be effectually arrested; but towards the afternoon of
the next day smoke was observed issuing from the upper part of
the steeple of the Tron Church. The steeple was built of timber,
covered with lead. There is never smoke but there is fire; and at
last the flames burst forth. The height of the spire was so lofty
that all attempts to extinguish the fire were hopeless. The lead
was soon melted, and rushed in streams into the street below. At
length the whole steeple fell down with a frightful crash.
I happened to see the
first outbreak of this extraordinary fire, and I watched its
progress to its close. Burning embers were carried by the wind
and communicated the fire to neighbouring houses. The last
outburst took place one night about ten. All the fire-engines of
Edinburgh and the neighbourhood were collected round the
buildings, and played water upon the flames, but without effect.
Whole ranges of lofty old houses were roaring with fire. In the
course of two or three hours, several acres, covered by the
loftiest and most densely crowded houses in the High Street, were
in a blaze. Some of them were of thirteen stories. Floor after
floor came crashing down, throwing out a blaze of embers. The
walls of each house acted as an enormous chimney -- the windows
acting as draught-holes. The walls, under the intense heat, were
fluxed and melted into a sort of glass. The only method of
stopping the progress of the fire was to pull down the
neighbouring houses, so as to isolate the remaining parts of the
High Street.
As the parapet of the
grand old tower of the High Church, St. Giles, was near the site
of the fire, -- so near as to enable one to look down into it, --
my father obtained permission to ascend, and I with him. When we
emerged from the long dark spiral stairs on to the platform on
the top of the tower, we found a select party of the most
distinguished inhabitants looking down into the vast area of
fire; and prominent among them was Sir Walter Scott. At last,
after three days of tremendous efforts, the fire was subdued; but
not till after a terrible destruction of property. The great
height of the ruined remains of the piles of houses rendered it
impossible to have them removed by the ordinary means. After
several fruitless attempts with chains and ropes , worked by
capstans, to pull them down, gunpowder was at last resorted to.
Mines were dug under each vast pile; one or two barrels of
gunpowder were placed into them and fired; and then the before
solid masses came tumbling down amidst clouds of dust. The
management of this hazardous but eventually safe process was
conducted by Captain Basil Ball. He ordered a crew of sailors to
be brought up from the man-of-war guardship in the Firth of
Forth; and by their united efforts the destruction of the ruined
walls was at last successfully accomplished.
In the autumn of 1823,
when I was fifteen years old, I had a most delightful journey
with my father. It was the first occasion on which I had been a
considerable distance from home. And yet the journey was only to
Stirling. My father had received a commission to paint a view of
the castle as seen from the ruins of Cambuskenneth Abbey,
situated a few miles from the town. We started from Newhaven by a
small steamboat, passing, on our way up the Firth, Queensferry,
Culross, and Alloa. We then entered the windings of the river,
from which I saw the Ochils, a noble range of bright green
mountains. The passage of the steamer through the turns and
windings of the Forth was most interesting.
We arrived at Stirling,
and at once proceeded to Cambuskenneth Abbey, where there was a
noble old Gothic tower. This formed the foreground of my father's
careful sketch, with Stirling Castle in the background, and Ben
Lomond with many other of the Highland mountains in the distance.
As my father wished to make a model of the Gothic tower, he
desired me to draw it carefully, and to take the dimensions of
all the chief parts as well as to make detailed sketches of its
minor architectural features. It was a delightful autumn
afternoon, and, before the day had closed, our work at the abbey
was done. We returned to Stirling and took a walk round the
castle to see the effect of the sun setting behind the Highland
mountains.
Next morning we visited
the castle. I was much interested with the interior, especially
with a beautifully decorated Gothic oratory or private chapel,
used by the Scottish kings when they resided at Stirling. The
oratory had been converted with great taste into an
ante-drawingroom of the governor's house. The exquisite
decorations of this chapel[note: This exquisite specimen
of a carved oak Gothic apartment had a terrible incident in
Scottish history connected with it. It was in this place that The
Douglas intruded his presence on James the Third. He urged his
demands in a violent and threatening manner, and afterwards laid
hands upon the king. The latter, in defending himself with his
dagger, wounded the Douglas mortally; and to get rid of the body
the king cast it out of the window of the chapel, where it fell
down the precipitous rock underneath. The chapel has since been
destroyed by fire.]
were the first
specimens of Gothic carving in oak that I had ever seen, and they
seemed to put our modern carvings to shame. The Great Hall, where
the Scottish Parliament used to meet, was also very interesting
as connected with the ancient history of the country.
From Stirling we walked
to Alloa, passing the picturesque cascades rushing down the
cleft's of the Ochils. We put up for the night at Clackmannan, a
very decayed and melancholy-looking village, though it possessed
a fine specimen of the Scottish castellated tower. It is said
that Robert Bruce slept here before the Battle of Bannockburn.
But the most interesting thing that I saw during the journey was
the Devon Ironworks. I had read and heard about the processes
carried on there in smelting iron ore and running it into
pig-iron. The origin of the familiar trade term
"pig-iron" is derived from the result of the
arrangement most suitable for distributing the molten iron as it
rushes forth from the opening made at the bottom part of the
blast-furnace; when, after its reduction from the ore, it
collects in a fluid mass of several tons weight. Previous to
"tapping" the furnace a great central channel is made
in the sand-covered floor of the forge; this central channel is
then subdivided into many lateral branches or canals, into which
the molten iron flows, and eventually hardens.
The great steam-engine
that worked the blast furnace was the largest I had ever seen. A
singular expedient was employed at these works, of using a vast
vault hewn in the solid rock of the hillside for the purpose of
storing up the blast produced by the engines, and so equalising
the pressure; thus turning a mountain side into a reservoir for
the use of a blast-furnace. This seemed to me a daring and
wonderful engineering feat.
We waited at the works
until the usual time had arrived for letting out the molten iron
which had been accumulating at the lower part of the
blast-furnace. It was a fine sight to see the stream of white-hot
iron flowing like water into the large gutter immediately before
the opening. From this the molten iron flowed on until it filled
the moulds of sand which branched off from the central gutter.
The iron left in the centre, when cooled and broken up, was
called sow metal, while that in the branches was called pig
iron; the terms being derived from the appearance of a sow
engaged in its maternal duties. The pig-iron is thus cast in
handy-sized pieces for the purpose of being transported to other
iron foundries; while the clumsy sow metal is broken up and
passes through another process of melting, or is reserved for
foundry uses at the works where it is produced. After inspecting
with great pleasure the machinery connected with the foundry, we
took our leave and returned to Edinburgh by steamer from Alloa.
Shortly after, I had
the good fortune to make the acquaintance of Robert Bald, the
well-known mining engineer. He was one of the most kind-hearted
men I have ever known. He was always ready to communicate his
knowledge to young and old. His sound judgment and long practical
experience in regard to coal-mining and the various machinery
connected with it, rendered him a man of great importance in the
northern counties, where his advice was eagerly sought for.
Besides his special knowledge, he had a large acquaintance with
literature and science. He was bright, lively, and energetic. He
was a living record of good stories, and in every circle in which
he moved he was the focus of cheerfulness. In fact, there was no
greater social favourite in Edinburgh than Robert Bald.
Bald was very fond of
young people, and he became much attached to me. He used to come
to my father's house, and often came in to see what I was about
in the work-room. He was rejoiced to see the earnest and
industrious manner in which I was employed, in preparing myself
for my proposed business as an engineer. He looked over my tools,
mostly of my own making, and gave me every encouragement. When he
had any visitors he usually brought them and introduced them to
me. In this way I had the happiness to make the acquaintance of
Robert Napier, Nelson, and Cook, of Glasgow; and in after life I
continued to enjoy their friendship. It would be difficult for me
to detail the acts of true disinterested kindness which I
continued to receive from this admirable man.
On several occasions he
wished me to accompany him on his business journeys, in order
that I might see some works that would supply me with valuable
information. He had designed a powerful pumping engine to drain
more effectually a large colliery district situated near
Bannockburn -- close to the site of the great battle in the time
of Robert the Bruce. He invited me to join him. It was with the
greatest pleasure that I accepted his invitation; for there would
be not only the pleasure of seeing a noble piece of steam
machinery brought into action for the first time, but also the
enjoyment of visiting the celebrated Carron Ironworks.
The Carron Ironworks
are classic ground to engineers. They are associated with the
memory of Roebuck, Watt, and Miller of Dalswinton. For there
Roebuck and Watt began the first working steam-engine; Miller
applied the steam-engine to the purposes of navigation, and
invented the Carronade gun. The works existed at an early period
in the history of British iron manufacture. Much of the machinery
continued to be of wood. Although effective in a general way it
was monstrously cumbrous. It gave the idea of vast power and
capability of resistance, while it was far from being so in
reality. It was, however, truly imposing and impressive in its
effect upon strangers. When seen partially lit up by the glowing
masses of white-hot iron, with only the rays of bright sunshine
gleaming through a few holes in the roof, and the dark, black,
smoky vaults in which the cumbrous machinery was heard rumbling
away in the distance -- while the moving parts were dimly seen
through the murky atmosphere, mixed with the sounds of escaping
steam and rushes of water; with the half-naked men darting about
with masses of red-hot iron and ladles full of molten cast-iron
-- it made a powerful impression upon the mind.
I was afterwards
greatly interested by a collection of old armour, dug up from the
field of the Battle of Bannockburn close at hand. They were
arranged on the walls of the house of the manager of the Carron
Ironworks. There were swords, daggers, lances, battle-axes,
shields, and coats of chain-armour. Some of the latter were
whole, others in fragmentary portions. I was particularly
interested with the admirable workmanship of the coats of mail.
The iron links extended from the covering of the head to the end
of the arms, and from the shoulders down to the hips, in one
linked iron fabric. The beauty and exactness with which this
chain-armour had been forged and built up were truly wonderful.
There must have been "giants in those days." This grand
style of armour was in use from the time of the Conquest, and was
most effective in the way of protection, as it was fitted by its
flexibility to give full play to the energetic action of the
wearer. It was infinitely superior to the senseless plate-armour
that was used, at a subsequent period, to encase soldiers like
lobsters. The chain-armour I saw at Carron left a deep impression
on my mind. I never see a bit of it, or of its representation in
the figures on our grand tombs of the thirteenth century, but I
think of my first sight of it at Carron and of the tremendous
conflict at Bannockburn.
Remembering, also,
the impressive sight of the picturesque fire-lit halls, and the
terrible-looking, cumbrous machinery which I first beheld on a
grand scale at Carron, I have often regretted that some of our
artists do not follow up the example set them by that admirable
painter, Wright of Derby, and treat us to the pictures of some of
our great ironworks. They not only abound with the elements of
the picturesque in its highest sense, but also set forth the
glory of the useful arts in such a way as would worthily call
forth the highest power of our artists.
To return to my life
at Edinburgh. I was now seventeen years old. I had acquired a
considerable amount of practical knowledge as to the use and
handling of mechanical tools, and I desired to turn it to some
account. I was able to construct working models of steam-engines
and other apparatus required for the illustration of mechanical
subjects. I began with making a small working steam engine for
the purpose of grinding the oil-colours used by my father in his
artistic work. The result was quite satisfactory. Many persons
came to see my active little steam-engine at work, and they were
so pleased with it that I received several orders for small
workshop engines, and also for some models of steam-engines to
illustrate the subjects taught at Mechanics' Institutions.
Sectional
model of condensing steam-engine. By James Nasmyth
I contrived a sectional model of a complete
condensing steam-engine of the beam and parallel motion
construction. The model, as seen from one side, exhibited every
external detail in full and due action when the flywheel was
moved round by hand; while, on the other or sectional side, every
detail of the interior was seen, with the steam-valves and
air-pump, as well as the motion of the piston in the cylinder,
with the construction of the piston and the stuffing box,
together with the slide-valve and steam passages, all in due
position and relative movement.
The first of these
sectional models of the steam-engine was made for the Edinburgh
School of Arts, where its uses in instructing mechanics and
others in the application of steam were highly appreciated. The
second was made for Professor Leslie, of the Edinburgh
University, for use in his lectures on Natural Philosophy. The
professor had, at his own private cost, provided a complete and
excellent set of apparatus, which, for excellent workmanship and
admirable utility, had never, I believe, been provided for the
service of any university. He was so pleased with my addition to
his class-room apparatus, that, besides expressing his great
thanks for my services, he most handsomely presented me with a
free ticket to his Natural Philosophy class as a regular student,
so long as it suited me to make use of his instruction. But far
beyond this, as a reward for my earnest endeavours to satisfy
this truly great philosopher, was the kindly manner in which he
on all occasions communicated to me conversationally his original
and masterly views on the great fundamental principles of Natural
Philosophy -- especially as regarded the principles of Dynamics
and the Philosophy of Mechanics. The clear views which he
communicated in his conversation, as well as in his admirable
lectures, vividly illustrated by the experiments which he had
originated, proved of great advantage to me; and I had every
reason to consider his friendship and his teaching as amongst the
most important elements in my future success as a practical
engineer.
Having referred to
the Edinburgh School of Arts, I feel it necessary to say
something about the origin of that excellent institution. A
committee of the most distinguished citizens of Edinburgh was
formed for the purpose of instituting a college in which working
men and mechanics might possess the advantages of instruction in
the principles on which their various occupations were conducted.
Among the committee were Leonard Horner, Francis Jeffrey, Henry
Cockburn, John Murray of Henderland, Alexander Bryson, James
Mline, John Miller, the Lord Provost, and various members of the
Council. Their efforts succeeded, and the institution was
founded. The classes were opened in 1821, in which year I became
a student.
In order to supply
the students, who were chiefly young men of the working class,
with sound instruction in the various branches of science, the
lectures were delivered and the classes were superintended by men
of established ability in their several departments. This course
was regularly pursued from its fundamental and elementary
principles to the highest point of scientific instruction. The
consecutive lectures and examinations extended, as in the
University, from October to May in each year's session. It was,
in fact, our first technical college. In these later days when so
many of our so-called Mechanics' Institutes are merely cheap
reading-clubs for the middle classes, and the lectures are
delivered for the most part merely for a pleasant evening' s
amusement, it seems to me that we have greatly departed from the
original design with which Mechanics' Institutions were founded.
As the Edinburgh School
of Arts was intended for the benefit of mechanics, the lectures
and classes were held in the evening after the day's work was
over. The lectures on chemistry were given by Dr. Fyfe -- an
excellent man. His clearness of style, his successful
experiments, and the careful and graphic method by which he
carried his students from the first fundamental principles to the
highest points of chemical science, attracted a crowded and
attentive audience. Not less interesting were the lectures on
Mechanical Philosophy, which in my time were delivered by Dr.
Lees and Mr.Buchanan. The class of Geometry and Mathematics was
equally well conducted, though the attendance was not so great.
The building which the
directors had secured for the lecture-hall and class-rooms of the
institution was situated at the lower end of Niddry Street,
nearly under the great arch of the South Bridge. It had been
built about a hundred years before, and was formerly used by an
association of amateur musicians, who gave periodical concerts of
vocal and instrumental music. The orchestra was now converted
into a noble lecture table, with accommodation for any amount of
apparatus that might be required for the purposes of
illustration. The seats were arranged in the body of the hall in
concentric segments, with the lecture table as their centre. In
an alcove fight opposite the lecturer might often be seen the
directors of the institution -- Jeffrey, Horner, Murray, and
others -- who took every opportunity of dignifying by their
presence this noble gathering of earnest and intelligent working
men.
A library of scientific
books was soon added to the institution, by purchases or by
gifts. Such was the eagerness to have a chance of getting the
book you wanted that I remember standing on many occasions for
some time amidst a number of applicants awaiting the opening of
the door on an evening library night. It was as crowded as if I
had been standing at the gallery door of the theatre on a night
when some distinguished star from London was about to make his
appearance. There was the same eagerness to get a good place in
the lecture-room, as near to the lecture table as possible,
especially on the chemistry nights.
I continued my regular
attendance at this admirable institution from 1821 to 1826. I am
glad to find that it still continues in active operation. In
November 1880 the number of students attending the Edinburgh
School of Arts amounted to two thousand five hundred ! I have
been led to this prolix account of the beginning of the
institution by the feeling that I owe a deep debt of gratitude to
it, and because of the instructive and intellectually enjoyable
evenings which I spent there, in fitting myself for entering upon
the practical work of my life.
The successful
establishment of the Edinburgh School of Arts had a considerable
effect throughout the country. Similar institutions were
established, lectures were delivered, and the necessary
illustrations were acquired -- above all, the working models of
the steam-engine. There was quite a run upon me for supplying
them. My third working model was made to the order of Robert
Bald, for the purpose of being presented to the Alloa Mechanics'
Institute; the fourth was manufactured for Mr. G. Buchanan, who
lectured on mechanical subjects throughout the country; and the
fifth was supplied to a Mr. Offley, an English gentleman who took
a fancy for the model when he came to purchase some of my
father's works.
The price I charged
for my models was £10; and with the pecuniary results I made
over one-third to my father, as a sort of help to remunerate him
for my "keep," and with the rest I purchased tickets of
admission to certain classes in the University. I attended the
Chemistry course under Dr. Hope; the Geometry and Mathematical
course under Professor Wallace; and the Natural Philosophy course
under my valued friend and patron Professor Leslie. What with my
attendance upon the classes, and my workshop and drawing
occupations, my time did not hang at all heavy on my hands.
I got up early in the
mornings to work at my father's lathe, and I sat up late at night
to do the brass castings in my bedroom. Some of this, however, I
did during the day-time, when not attending the University
classes. The way in which I converted my bedroom into a brass
foundry was as follows: I took up the carpet so that there might
be nothing but the bare boards to be injured by the heat. My
furnace in the grate was made of four plates of stout sheet-iron,
lined with fire-brick, corner to corner. To get the requisite
sharp draught I bricked up with single bricks the front of the
fireplace, leaving a hole at the back of the furnace for the
short pipe just to fit into. The fuel was generally gas coke and
cinders saved from the kitchen. The heat I raised was superb -- a
white heat, sufficient to melt in a crucible six or eight pounds
of brass.
Then I had a box of
moulding sand, where the moulds were gently rammed in around the
pattern previous to the casting. But how did I get my brass? All
the old brassworks in my father's workshop drawers and boxes were
laid under contribution. This brass being for the most part soft
and yellow, I made it extra hard by the addition of a due
proportion of tin. It was then capable of retaining a fine edge.
When I had exhausted the stock of old brass, I had to buy old
copper, or new, in the form of ingot or tile copper, and when
melted I added to it one-eighth of its weight of pure tin, which
yielded the strongest alloy of the two metals. When cast into any
required form this was a treat to work, so sound and close was
the grain, and so durable in resisting wear and tear. This is the
true bronze or gun metal.
When melted, the
liquid brass was let into the openings, until the whole of the
moulds were filled. After the metal cooled it was taken out; and
when the room was sorted up no one could have known that my
foundry operations had been carried on in my bedroom. My brass
foundry was right over my father's bedroom. He had forbidden me
to work late at night, as I did occasionally on the sly.
Sometimes when I ought to have been asleep I was detected by the
sound of the ramming in of the sand of the moulding boxes. On
such occasions my father let me know that I was disobeying his
orders by rapping on the ceiling of his bedroom with a slight
wooden rod of ten feet that he kept for measuring purposes. But I
got over that difficulty by placing a bit of old carpet under my
moulding boxes as a non-conductor of sound, so that no ramming
could afterwards be heard. My dear mother also was afraid that I
should damage my health by working so continuously. She would
come into the workroom late in the evening, when I was working at
the lathe or the vice, and say, "Ye'll kill yerself, laddie,
by working so hard and so late". Yet she took a great pride
in seeing me so busy and so happy.
Nearly the whole of my
steam-engine models were made in my father's workroom. His
foot-lathe and stove, together with my brass casting arrangements
in my bedroom, answered all my purposes in the way of model
making. But I had at times to avail myself of the smithy and
foundry that my kind and worthy friend, George Douglass, had
established in the neighbourhood. He had begun business as
"a jobbing smith," but being a most intelligent and
energetic workman, he shot ahead and laid the foundations of a
large trade in steam-engines. When I had any part of a job in
hand that was beyond the capabilities of my father's lathe, or my
bedroom casting apparatus, I immediately went to Douglass's
smithy, where every opportunity was afforded me for carrying on
my larger class of work.
His place was only
about five minutes' walk from my father's house. I had the use of
his large turning-lathe, which was much more suitable for big or
heavy work than the lathe at home. When any considerable bit of
steel or iron forging had to be done, a forge fire and anvil were
always placed at my service. In making my flywheels for the
sectional models of steam-engines I had a rather neat and handy
way of constructing them. The boss of the wheel of brass was
nicely bored; the arm-holes were carefully drilled and taped, so
as to allow the arms which I had turned to be screwed in and
appear like neat columns of round wrought iron or steel screwed
into the boss of the flywheel.
In return for the great
kindness of George Douglass in allowing me to have the use of his
foundry, I resolved to present him with a specimen of my
handiwork. I desired to try my powers in making a more powerful
steam-engine than I had as yet attempted to construct, in order
to drive the large turning-lathe and the other tools and
machinery of his small foundry. I accordingly set to work and
constructed a direct-acting, high-pressure steam-engine, with a
cylinder four inches in diameter. I use the term direct acting,
because I dispensed with the beam and parallel motion, which was
generally considered the correct mode of transferring the action
of the piston to the crank.
The result of my
labours was a very efficient steam-engine, which set all the
lathes and mechanical tools in brisk activity of movement. It had
such an enlivening effect upon the workmen that George Douglass
afterwards told me that the busy hum of the wheels, and the
active, smooth, rhythmic sound of the merry little engine had,
through some sympathetic agency, so quickened the stroke of every
hammer, chisel, and file in his workmen's hands, that it nearly
doubled the output of work for the same wages!
The sympathy of
activity acting upon the workmen's hands cannot be better
illustrated than by a story told me by my father. A master tailor
in a country town employed a number of workmen. They had been to
see some tragic melodrama performed by some players in a booth at
the fair. A very slow, doleful, but catching air was played,
which so laid hold of the tailors' fancy that for some time after
they were found slowly whistling or humming the doleful ditty,
the movement of their needles keeping time to it; the result was
that the clothing that should have been sent home on Saturday was
not finished until the Wednesday following. The music had done
it! The master tailor, being something of a philosopher, sent his
men to the play again; but he arranged that they should be
treated with lively merry airs. The result was that the lively
airs displaced the doleful ditty; and the tailors' needles again
reverted to even more than their accustomed quickness.
However true the story
may be, it touches an important principle in regard to the
stimulation of activity by the rapid movements or sounds of
machinery, which influence every workman within their sight or
hearing. We all know the influence of a quick merry air, played
by fife and drum, upon the step and marching of a regiment of
soldiers. It is the same with the quick movements of a
steam-engine upon the activity of workmen.
I may add that my
worthy friend, George Douglass, derived other advantages from the
construction of my steam-engine. Being of an enterprising
disposition he added another iron foundry to his smaller shops;
he obtained many good engineering tools, and in course of time he
began to make steam-engines for agricultural purposes. These were
used in lieu of horse power for thrashing corn, and performing
several operations that used to be done by hand labour in the
farmyards. Orders came in rapidly, and before long the chimneys
of Douglass's steam-engines were as familiar in the country round
Edinburgh as corn stacks. All the large farms, especially in
Midlothian and East Lothian, were supplied with his
steam-engines. The business of George Douglass became very large;
and in course of time he was enabled to retire with a
considerable fortune.
In addition to the
steam-engine which I presented to Douglass, I received an order
to make another from a manufacturer of braiding. His machines had
before been driven by hand labour; but as his business extended,
the manufacturer employed me to furnish him with all engine of
two-horse power, which was duly constructed and set to work, and
gave him the highest satisfaction.
James
Nasmyth's Expansometer, 1826.
I may here mention that
one of my earliest attempts at original contrivance was an
Expansometer -- an instrument for measuring in bulk all metals
and solid substances. The object to be experimented on was
introduced into a tube of brass, with as much water round it as
to fill the tube. The apparatus was then plunged into a vessel of
boiling water, or heated to boiling point; when the total
expansion of the bar was measured by a graduated scale, as seen
in the annexed engraving. By this simple means the expansion of
any material might be ascertained under various increments of
heat, say from 60deg to 2l2deg It was simply a thermometer, the
mass marking its own expansion. Dr. Brewster was so much pleased
with the apparatus that he described it and figured it in the Edinburgh
Philosophical Journal, of which he was then editor.
The road
steam-carriage. By James Nasmyth.
About the year 1827,
when I was nineteen years old, the subject of steam carriages to
run upon common roads occupied considerable attention. Several
engineers and mechanical schemers had tried their hands, but as
yet no substantial results had come of their attempts to solve
the problem. Like others, I tried my hand. Having made a small
working model of a steam-carriage, I exhibited it before the
members of the Scottish Society of Arts. The performance of this
active little machine was so gratifying to the Society that they
requested me to construct one of such power as to enable four or
six persons to be conveyed along the ordinary roads. The members
of the Society, in their individual capacity, subscribed £60,
which they placed in my hands as the means for carrying out their
project.
I accordingly set to
work at once. I had the heavy parts of the engine and carriage
done at Anderson's foundry at Leith. There was in Anderson's
employment a most able general mechanic named Robert Maclaughlan,
who had served his time at Carmichaels' of Dundee. Anderson
possessed some excellent tools, which enabled me to proceed
rapidly with the work. Besides, he was most friendly, and took
much delight in being concerned in my enterprise. This "big
job" was executed in about four months. The steam-carriage
was completed and exhibited before the members of the Society of
Arts. Many successful trials were made with it on the queensferry
Road, near Edinburgh. The runs were generally of four or five
miles, with a load of eight passengers sitting on benches about
three feet from the ground.
The experiments were
continued for nearly three months, to the great satisfaction of
the members. I may mention that in my steam-carriage I employed
the waste steam to create a blast or draught by discharging it
into the short chimney of the boiler at its lowest part, and
found it most effective. I was not at that time aware that George
Stephenson and others had adopted the same method; but it was
afterwards gratifying to me to find that I had been correct as
regards the important uses of the steam blast in the chimney. In
fact, it is to this use of the waste steam that we owe the
practical success of the locomotive-engine as a tractive power on
railways, especially at high speeds.
The Society of Arts did
not attach any commercial value to my steam road-carriage. It was
merely as a matter of experiment that they had invited me to
construct it. When it proved successful they made me a present of
the entire apparatus. As I was anxious to get on with my studies,
and to prepare for the work of practical engineering, I proceeded
no further. I broke up the steam-carriage and sold the two small
high-pressure engines, provided with a compact and strong boiler,
for £67, a sum which more than defrayed all the expenses of the
construction and working of the machine.
I still continued to
make investigations as to the powers and capabilities of the
steam-engine. There were numerous breweries, distilleries, and
other establishments, near Edinburgh, where such engines were at
work. As they were made by different engineers, I was desirous of
seeing them and making sketches of them, especially when there
was any special peculiarity in their construction. I found this a
most favourite and instructive occupation. The engine tenters
became very friendly with me, and they we re always glad to see
me interested in them and their engines. They were especially
delighted to see me make "drafts," as they called my
sketches, of the engines under their charge.
My father sometimes
feared that my too close and zealous application to engineering
work might have a bad effect upon my health. My bedroom work at
brass casting, my foundry work at the making of steam-engines,
and my studies at the University classes, were perhaps too much
for a lad of my age, just when I was in the hobbledehoy state --
between a boy and a man. Whether his apprehensions were warranted
or not, it did so happen that I was attacked with typhus fever in
1828, a disease that was then prevalent in Edinburgh. I had a
narrow escape from its fatal influence. But thanks to my good
constitution, and to careful nursing, I succeeded in throwing off
the fever, and after due time recovered my usual health and
strength.
In the course of my
inspection of the engines made by different makers, I was
impressed with the superiority of those made by the Carmichaels
of Dundee. They were excellent both in design and in execution. I
afterwards found that the Carmichaels were among the first of the
Scottish engine makers who gave due attention to the employment
of improved mechanical tools, with the object of producing
accurate work with greater ease, rapidity, and economy, than
could possibly be effected by the hand labour of even the most
skilful workmen. I was told that the cause of the excellence of
the Carmichaels' work was not only in the ability of the heads of
the firm, but in their employment of the best engineers' tools.
Some of their leading men had worked at Maudslay's machine shop
in London, the fame of which had already reached Dundee; and
Maudslay's system of employing machine tools had been imported
into the northern steam factory.
I had on many
occasions, when visiting the works where steam-engines were
employed, heard of the name and fame of Maudslay. I was told that
his works were the very centre and climax of all that was
excellent in mechanical workmanship. These reports built up in my
mind, at this early period of my aspirations, an earnest and
hopeful desire that I might some day get a sight of Maudslay's
celebrated works in London. In course of time it developed into a
passion. I will now proceed to show how my inmost desires were
satisfied.
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