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Contents
Voyage to London
with specimens of workmanship , First walk through
London , Visit to Henry
Maudslay , The interview , Exhibit my specimens ,
Taken on
as assistant , The private workshop , Maudslay's constructive excellence , His maxims , Uniformity of screws , Meeting with Henry Brougham , David Wilkie , Visit to the
Admiralty Museum , The Block machinery , The Royal Mint , Steam yacht trip to
Richmond , Lodgings taken , "A clean crossing" ,
THE chief object of my
ambition was now to be taken on at Henry Maudslay's works in
London. I had heard so much of his engineering work, of his
assortment of machine-making tools, and of the admirable
organisation of his manufactory, that I longed to obtain
employment there. I was willing to labour, in however humble a
capacity, in that far-famed workshop.
I was aware that my
father had not the means of paying the large premium required for
placing me as an apprentice at Maudslay's works. I was also
informed that Maudslay had ceased to take pupils. After
experience, he found that the premium apprentices caused him much
annoyance and irritation. They came in "gloves;" their
attendance was irregular; they spread a bad example amongst the
regular apprentices and workmen; and on the whole they were found
to be very disturbing elements in the work of the factory.
It therefore occurred
to me that, by showing some specimens of my work and drawings, I
might be able to satisfy Mr. Maudslay that I was not an amateur,
but a regular working engineer. With this object I set to work,
and made with special care a most complete working model of a
high-pressure engine. The cylinder was 2 inches diameter, and the
stroke 6 inches. Every part of the engine, including the
patterns, the castings, the forgings, were the results of my own
individual handiwork. I turned out this sample of my ability as
an engineer workman in such a style as even now I should be proud
to own.
In like manner I
executed several specimens of my ability as a mechanical
draughtsman; for I knew that Maudslay would thoroughly understand
my ability to work after a plan. Mechanical drawing is the
alphabet of the engineer. Without this the workman is merely a
"hand." With it he indicates the possession of "a
head" I also made some samples of my skill in hand-sketching
of machines, and parts of machines, in perspective -- that is, as
such objects really appear when set before us in their natural
aspect. I was the more desirous of exhibiting the ability which I
possessed in mechanical draughtsmanship, as I knew it to be a
somewhat rare and much-valued acquirement. It was a branch of
delineative art that my father had carefully taught me.
Throughout my professional life I have found this art to be of
the utmost practical value.
Having thus provided
myself with such visible and tangible evidences of my
capabilities as a young engineer, I carefully packed up my
working model and drawings, and prepared to start for London. On
the 19th of May 1829, accompanied by my father, I set sail by the
Leith smack Edinburgh Castle, Captain Orr, master. After a
pleasant voyage of four days we reached the mouth of the Thames.
We sailed up from the Nore on Saturday afternoon, lifted up, as
it were, by the tide, for it was almost a dead calm the whole
way.
The sight of the
banks of the famous river, with the Kent orchards in full
blossom, and the frequent passages of steamers with bands of
music and their decks crowded with pleasure-seekers, together
with the sight of numbers of noble merchant ships in the river,
formed a most glorious and exciting scene. It was also enhanced
by the thought that I was nearing the great metropolis, around
which so many bright but anxious hopes were centred, as the scene
of my first important step into the anxious business of life, The
tide, which had carried us up the river as far as Woolwich
suddenly turned; and we remained there during the night. Early
next morning the tide rose, and we sailed away again. It was a
bright mild morning. The sun came "dancing up the east"
as we floated past wharfs and woodyards and old houses on the
banks, past wherries and coal boats and merchant ships on the
river, until we reached our destination at the Irongate Wharf,
near the Tower of London. I heard St. Paul's clock strike six
just as we reached our mooring ground.
Captain Orr was kind
enough to allow us to make the ship our hotel during the Sunday,
as it was by no means convenient for us to remove our luggage on
that day. My father took me ashore and we walked to Regent's
Park. One of my sisters, who was visiting a friend in London, was
residing in that neighbourhood. My father so planned his route as
to include many of the most remarkable streets and buildings and
sights of London. He pointed out the principal objects, and gave
me much information about their origin and history.
I was much struck
with the beautiful freshness and luxuriant growth of the trees
and shrubs in the squares; for spring was then in its first
beauty. The loveliness of Regent's Park surprised me. The extent
of the space, the brilliancy of the fresh-leaved trees, and the
handsome buildings by which the park was surrounded, made it seem
to me more splendid than a picture from the Arabian Nights.
Under the happy aspect of a brilliant May forenoon, this first
long walk through London, with all its happy attendant
circumstances, rendered it one of the most vividly remembered incidents in my
life. After visiting my sister and giving her all the details of
the last news from home, she joined us in our walk down to
Westminster Abbey. The first view of the interior stands out in
my memory as one of the most impressive sights I ever beheld. I
had before read, over and over again, the beautiful description
of the Abbey given by Washington Irving in the Sketch Book,
one of the most masterly pieces of writing that I know of I now
found one of my day-dreams realised.
We next proceeded
over Westminster Bridge to call upon my brother Patrick. We found
him surrounded by paintings from his beautiful sketches from
Nature. Some of them were more or less advanced in the form of
exquisite pictures, which now hang on many walls, and will long
commemorate his artistic life. We closed this ever memorable day
by dining at a tavern at the Surrey end of Waterloo Bridge. We
sat at an upper window which commanded a long stretch of the
river, and from which we could see the many remarkable buildings,
from St. Paul's to Westminster Abbey and the Houses of
Parliament, which lay on the other side of the Thames.
On the following day
my father and I set out in search of lodgings, hotels being at
that time beyond our economical method of living. We succeeded in
securing a tidy lodging at No. 14 Agues Place, Waterloo Road. The
locality had a special attraction for me, as it was not far from
that focus of interest -- Maudslay's factory. Our luggage was
removed from the ship to the lodgings, and my ponderous cases,
containing the examples of my skill as an engineer workman, were
deposited in a carpenter's workshop close at hand.
I was now anxious for
the interview with Maudslay. My father had been introduced to him
by a mutual friend some two or three years before, and that was
enough. On the morning of May the 26th we set out together, and
reached his house in Westminster Road, Lambeth. It adjoined his
factory. My father knocked at the door. My own heart beat fast.
Would he be at home? Would he receive us? Yes! he was at home;
and we were invited to enter.
Mr. Maudslay received
us in the most kind and frank manner. After a little conversation
my father explained the object of his visit. "My son,"
he said, pointing to me, "is very anxious to have the
opportunity of acquiring a thorough practical knowledge of
mechanical engineering, by serving as an apprentice in some such
establishment as yours" "Well," replied Maudslay,
"I must frankly confess to you that my experience of pupil
apprentices has been so unsatisfactory that my partner and myself
have determined to discontinue to receive them -- no matter at
what premium. This was a very painful blow to myself; for it
seemed to put an end to my sanguine expectations.
Mr. Maudslay knew
that my father was interested in all matters relating to
mechanical engineering, and he courteously invited him to go
round the works. Of course I accompanied them. The sight of the
workshops astonished me. They excelled all that I had
anticipated. The beautiful machine tools, the silent smooth whirl
of the machinery, the active movements of the men, the excellent
quality of the work in progress, and the admirable order and
management that pervaded the whole establishment, rendered me
more tremblingly anxious than ever to obtain some employment there,
in however humble a capacity.
Mr. Maudslay observed
the earnest interest which I and my father took in everything
going on, and explained the movements of the machinery and the
rationale of the proceedings in the most lively and kindly
manner. It was while we were passing from one part of the factory
to another that I observed the beautiful steam-engine which gave
motion to the tools and machinery of the workshops. The man who
attended it was engaged in cleaning out the ashes from under the
boiler furnace, in order to wheel them away to their place
outside. On the spur of the moment I said to Mr. Maudslay,
"If you would only permit me to do such a job as that in
your service, I should consider myself most fortunate!" I
shall never forget the keen but kindly look that he gave me.
"So ," said he,"you are one of that sort, are
you?" I was inwardly delighted at his words.
When our round of the
works was concluded, I ventured to say to Mr. Maudslay that
"I had brought up with me from Edinburgh some working models
of steam-engines and mechanical drawings, and I should feel truly
obliged if he would allow me to show them to him?" "By
all means," said he; "bring them to me tomorrow at
twelve o'clock." I need not say how much pleased I was at
this permission to exhibit my handiwork, and how anxious I felt
as to the result of Mr. Maudslay's inspection of it.
I carefully unpacked my
working model of the steam-engine at the carpenter's shop, and
had it conveyed, together with my drawings, on a hand-cart to Mr.
Maudslay's next morning at the appointed hour. I was allowed to
place my work for his inspection in a room next his office and
counting-house. I then called at his residence close by, where he
kindly received me in his library. He asked me to wait until he
and his partner, Joshua Field, had inspected my handiwork.
I waited anxiously.
Twenty long minutes passed. At last he entered the room, and from
a lively expression in his countenance I observed in a moment
that the great object of my long cherished ambition had been
attained! He expressed, in good round terms, his satisfaction at
my practical ability as a workman engineer and mechanical
draughtsman. Then, opening the door which led from his library
into his beautiful private workshop, he said, "This is where
I wish you to work, beside me, as my assistant workman. From what
I have seen there is no need of an apprenticeship in your
case."
He then proceeded to
show me the collection of exquisite tools of all sorts with which
his private workshop was stored. They mostly bore the impress of
his own clearheadedness and common-sense. They were very simple,
and quite free from mere traditional forms and arrangements. At
the same time they were perfect for the special purposes for
which they had been designed. The workshop was surrounded with
cabinets and drawers, filled with evidences of the master's skill
and industry. Every tool had a purpose. It had been invented for
some special reason. Sometimes it struck the keynote, as it were,
to many of the important contrivances which enable man to obtain
a complete mastery over materials.
There were also hung
upon the walls, or placed upon shelves, many treasured relics of
the first embodiments of his constructive genius. There were many
models explaining, step by step, the gradual progress of his
teeming inventions and contrivances. The workshop was thus quite
a historical museum of mechanism. It exhibited his characteristic
qualities in construction. I afterwards found out that many of
the contrivances preserved in his private workshop were treasured
as suggestive of some interesting early passage in his useful and
active life. They were kept as relics of his progress towards
mechanical perfection. When he brought them out from time to
time, to serve for the execution of some job in hand, he was sure
to dilate upon the occasion that led to their production, as well
as upon the happy results which had followed their general
employment in mechanical engineering.
It was one of his
favourite maxims, "First, get a clear notion of what
you desire to accomplish, and then in all probability you will
succeed in doing it." Another was "Keep a sharp
look-out upon your materials; get rid of every pound of material
you can do without; put to yourself the question, 'What
business has it to be there? avoid complexities, and make
everything as simple as possible." Mr. Maudslay was full of
quaint maxims and remarks, the result of much shrewdness, keen
observation, and great experience. They were well worthy of being
stored up in the mind, like a set of proverbs, full of the life
and experience of men. His thoughts became compressed into pithy
expressions exhibiting his force of character and intellect. His
quaint remarks on my first visit to his workshop, and on
subsequent occasions, proved to me invaluable guides to
"right thinking" in regard to all matters connected
with mechanical structure.
Mr. Maudslay seemed
at once to take me into his confidence. He treated me in the most
kindly manner -- not as a workman or an apprentice, but as a
friend. I was an anxious listener to everything that he said; and
it gave him pleasure to observe that I understood and valued his
conversation. The greatest treat of all was in store for me. He
showed me his exquisite collection of taps and dies and
screw-tackle, which he had made with the utmost care for his own
service. They rested in a succession of drawers near to the bench
where he worked. There was a place for every one, and every one
was in its place. There was a look of tidiness about the
collection which was very characteristic of the man. Order was
one of the rules which he rigidly observed, and he endeavoured to
enforce it upon all who were in his employment.
He proceeded to dilate
upon the importance of the uniformity of screws. Some may call it
an improvement, but it might almost be called a revolution in
mechanical engineering which Mr. Maudslay introduced. Before his
time no system had been followed in proportioning the number of
threads of screws to their diameter. Every bolt and nut was thus
a speciality in itself, and neither possessed nor admitted of any
community with its neighbours. To such an extent had this
practice been carried that all bolts and their corresponding nuts
had to be specially marked as belonging to each other. Any
intermixture that occurred between them led to endless trouble
and expense, as well as inefficiency and confusion, -- especially
when parts of complex machines had to be taken to pieces for
repairs.
None but those who
lived in the comparatively early days of machine manufacture can
form an adequate idea of the annoyance, delay, and cost of this
utter want of system, or can appreciate the vast services
rendered to mechanical engineering by Mr. Maudslay, who was the
first to introduce the practical measures necessary for its
remedy. In his system of screw-cutting machinery, and in his taps
and dies, and screw-tackle generally, he set the example, and in
fact laid the foundation, of all that has since been done in this
most essential branch of machine construction. Those who have had
the good fortune to work under him, and have experienced the
benefits of his practice, have eagerly and ably followed him; and
thus his admirable system has become established throughout the
entire mechanical world.
Mr. Maudslay kept me
with him for about three hours, initiating me into his system. It
was with the greatest delight that I listened to his wise
instruction. The sight of his excellent tools, which he showed me
one by one, filled me with an almost painful feeling of earnest
hope that I might be able in any degree to practically express
how thankful I was to be admitted to so invaluable a privilege as
to be in close communication with this great master in all that
was most perfect in practical mechanics.
When he concluded his
exposition, he told me in the most kindly manner that it would be
well for me to take advantage of my father's presence in London
to obtain some general knowledge of the metropolis, to see the
most remarkable buildings, and to obtain an introduction to some
of my father's friends. He gave me a week for this purpose, and
said he should be glad to see me at his workshop on the following
Monday week.
It singularly
happened that on the first day my father went out with me, he
encountered an old friend. He had first known him at Mr. Miller's
of Dalswinton, when the first steamboat was tried, and afterwards
at Edinburgh while he was walking the courts as an advocate, or
writing articles for the Edinburgh Review. This was no
other than Henry Brougham. He was descending the steps leading
into St. James's Park, from the place where the Duke of York's
monument now stands. Brougham immediately recognised my father.
There was a hearty shaking of hands, and many inquiries on either
side. "And what brings you to London now?" asked
Brougham. My father told him that it was about his son here, who
had obtained an important position at Maudslay's the engineer.
"If I can do
anything for you," said Brougham, addressing me, "let
me know. It will afford me much pleasure to give you
introductions to men of science in London." I ventured to
say that "Of all the men of science in London that I most
wished to see, was Mr. Faraday of the Royal Institution."
" Well," said Brougham, "I will send you a letter
of introduction. We then parted.
My father availed
himself of the opportunity of introducing me to several of his
brother artists. We first went to the house of David Wilkie, in
Church Street, Kensington. We found him at home, and he received
us most kindly. We next visited Clarkson Stanfield, David
Roberts, and some other artists. They were much attached to my
father, and had, in the early part of their career, received much
kindness from him while living in Edinburgh. They all expressed
the desire that I should visit them frequently. I had thus the
privilege of entrée to a number of pleasant and happy
homes, and my visits to them while in London was one of my
principal sources of enjoyment.
On returning home to
our lodgings that evening we found a note from Brougham,
enclosing letters of introduction to Faraday and other scientific
men; and stating that if at any time he could be of service to me
he hoped that I would at once make use of him. My father was
truly gratified with the substantial evidence of Brougham's
kindly remembrance of him; and I? how could I be grateful enough?
not only for my father's never-failing attention to my growth in
knowledge and wisdom, but to his ever-willing readiness to help
me onward in the path of scientific working and mechanical
engineering. And now I was fortunate in another respect, in being
admitted to the school, and I may say the friendship, of the
admirable Henry Maudslay. Everything now depended upon myself,
and whether I was worthy of all these advantages or not.
One of the days of
this most interesting and memorable week was devoted to
accompanying Mr. Maudslay in a visit to Somerset House. In the
Admiralty Museum, then occupying a portion of the building, was a
complete set of the working models of the celebrated block-making
machinery. Most of these were the result of Maudslay's own
skilful handiwork. He also designed, for the most part, this
wonderful and complete series of machines. Sir Samuel Bentham and
Mr. Brunel had given the idea, and Maudslay realised it in all
its mechanical details. These working models contained the
prototypes of nearly all the modern engineer tools which have
given us so complete mastery over materials, and done so much for
the age we live in.
It added no little to
the enjoyment of this visit to hear Mr. Maudslay narrate, in his
quaint and graphic language, the difficulties he had to encounter
in solving so many mechanical problems. It occupied him nearly
six years to design and complete these working models. They were
forty-four in number -- all masterly pieces of workmanship. To
describe them was to him like living over again the most
interesting and eventful part of his life. And no doubt the
experience which he had thus obtained formed the foundation of
his engineering fortunes.
Mr. Maudslay next
conducted us to the Royal Mint on Tower Hill. Here we saw many of
his admirable machines at work. He had a happy knack, in his
contrivances and inventions, of making "short cuts" to
the object in view. He avoided complexities, did away with
roundabout processes, however ingenious, and went direct to his
point. "Simplicity" was his maxim in every mechanical
contrivance. His mastermind enabled him to see through and attain
the end he sought by the simplest possible means. The reputation
which he had acquired by his minting machinery enabled him to
supply it in its improved form to the principal Governments of
the world.
Some of the other
days of the week were occupied by my father in attending to his
own professional affairs, more particularly in connection with
the Earl of Cassilis -- whose noble mansion in London, and whose
castle at Colzean, on the coast of Ayrshire, contain some of my
father's finest works. The last day was most enjoyable. Mr.
Maudslay invited my father, my brother Patrick, and myself, to
accompany him in his beautiful small steam yacht, the Endeavour,
from Westminster to Richmond Bridge, and afterwards to dine with
him at the Star and Garter. I must first, however, say something
of the origin of the Endeavour.
Mr. Maudslay's son,
Joseph, inherited much of his father's constructive genius. He
had made a beautiful arrangement of William Murdoch's original
invention of the vibrating cylinder steam-engine, and adapted it
for the working of paddle-wheel steamers. He first tried the
action of the arrangement in a large working model, and its use
was found to be in every respect satisfactory. Mr. Maudslay
resolved to give his son's design a full-sized trial. He had a
combined pair of vibrating engines constructed, of upwards of 20
horse-power, which were placed in a beautiful small steam vessel,
appropriately named the Endeavour. The result was
perfectly successful. The steamer became a universal favourite.
It was used to convey passengers and pleasure parties from
Blackfriars Bridge to Richmond. Eventually it became the pioneer
of a vast progeny of vessels propelled by similar engines, which
still crowd the Thames. All these are the legitimate descendants
of the bright and active little Endeavour.
To return to my trip to
Richmond. We got on board the boat on the forenoon of May the
29th. It was one of the most beautiful days of the year. The
spring was at its loveliest. The bright fresh green of the trees
was delightful. I shall never forget the pleasure with which I
beheld, for the first time, the beautiful banks of the Thames.
There was at that time a noble avenue of elm trees extending
along the southern bank of the river, from Westminster Bridge to
Lambeth Palace; while, on the northern side, many equally fine
trees added picturesque grace to the then Houses of Parliament,
while behind them were seen the great roof of Westminster Hall
and the noble towers of Westminster Abbey. As we sped along we
admired the ancient cedars, which gave dignity to the Bishop's
grounds, on the one side, and the elms, laburnums, and lilacs,
then in full bloom, which partially shaded the quaint old
mansions of Cheyne Row, on the other. Alas! the march of
improvement and the inevitable extension of the metropolis is
rapidly destroying these vestiges of the olden time.
The beautiful views
that came into sight, as we glided up the river, kept my father
and my brother in a state of constant excitement. There were so
many truly picturesque and paintable objects. Patrick's
deft pencil was constantly at work, taking graphic notes of
"glorious bits" Dilapidated farm-buildings, old
windmills, pollarded willows, were rapidly noted, to be
afterwards revisited and made immortal by his brush. There were
also the fine mansions and cosy villas, partially shrouded by
glorious trees, with their bright velvety lawns sloping down
towards the river; not forgetting the delicate streams of thin
blue smoke rising lazily through the trees in the tranquil summer
air, and reminding one of the hospitable preparations then in
progress.
We landed at Richmond
Bridge, and walked up past the quaint old-fashioned mansions
which gave so distinct a character to Richmond at that time. We
then passed on to the celebrated Richmond Terrace, at the top of
the hill, from which so glorious a view of the windings of the
Thames is seen, with the luxuriant happy-looking landscape
around. The enjoyment of this glorious day now reached its
climax. We dined in the great dining-room, from the large windows
of which we observed a view almost unmatched in the world, with
the great tower of Windsor in the distance. I need not speak of
the entertainment, which was everything that the kindest and most
genial hospitality could offer. After a pleasant stroll in the
Park, amidst the noble and venerable oak trees , which give such
a dignity to the place, and after another visit to the Terrace,
where we saw the sun set in a blaze of glory beyond the distant
scenery, we strolled down the hill to the steamer, and descended
the Thames in the cool of the summer evening.
I must not, however,
omit to mention the lodgings taken for me by my father before he
left London. It was necessary that they should be near Maudslay's
works for the convenience of going and coming. We therefore
looked about in the neighbourhood of Waterloo Road. One of the
houses we visited was situated immediately behind the Surrey
theatre. It seemed a very nice tidy house, and my father seemed
to have taken a liking for it. But when we were introduced into
the room where I was to sleep, he observed an ultra-gay bonnet
lying on the bed, with flashy bright ribbons hanging from it.
This sight seemed to alter his ideas, and he did not take the
lodgings; but took another where there was no such bonnet.
I have no doubt about
what passed through his mind at the time. We were in the
neighbourhood of the theatre. There was evidently some gay young
woman about the house. He thought the position might be dangerous
for his son. I afterwards asked him why we had not taken that
nice lodging. "Well," he said, "did not you see
that ultra-gay bonnet lying on the bed? I think that looks rather
suspicious!" Afterwards he added, " At all events,
James, you will find that though there are many dirty roads in
life, if you use your judgment you may always be able to find
a clean crossing!" And so the good man left me. After an
affectionate parting he returned to Edinburgh, and I remained in
London to work out the plan Of my life.
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