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 entree 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.


CHAPTER 8.  Maudslay's Private Assistant

On the morning of Monday, the 30th of May 1829, I commenced my regular
attendance at Mr. Maudslay's workshop.  My first job was to assist him
in making some modifications in the details of a machine which he had
contrived some years before for generating original screws.  I use the
word "generating" as being most appropriate to express the objects and
results of one of Mr. Maudslay's most original inventions.

It consisted in the employment of a knife-edged hardened steel
instrument, so arranged as to be set at any required angle, and its
edge caused to penetrate the surface of a cylindrical bar of soft steel
or brass.  This bar being revolved under the incisive action of the
angularly placed knife-edged instrument, it thus received a continuous
spiral groove cut into its surface.  It was then in the condition of a
rudimentary screw; the pitch, or interval between the threads, being
determined by the greater or less angle of obliquity at which the
knife-edged instrument was set with respect to the axis of the
cylindrical bars revolving under its incisive action.

The spiral groove, thus generated, was deepened to the required extent
by a suitable and pointed hard steel tool firmly held in the jaws of an
adjustable slide made for the purpose, as part and parcel of the bed of
the machine.  In the case of square-threaded screws being required,
a square-pointed tool was employed in place of the V or angle-threaded
tool.  And in order to generate or produce right hand or left hand
screws, all that was necessary was to set the knife-edged instrument to
a right or left hand inclination in respect to the axis of the
cylindrical bar at the outset of the operation.

This beautiful and truly original contrivance became, in the hands of
its inventor, the parent of a vast progeny of perfect screws, whose
descendants, whether legitimate or not, are to be found in every
workshop throughout the world, wherever first-class machinery is
constructed.  The production of perfect screws was one of Maudslay's
highest ambitions and his principal technical achievement.  It was a
type of his invaluable faculty of solving the most difficult problems
by the most direct and simple methods.

It was by the same method that he produced the Guide screw.
His screw-cutting lathe was moved by combination wheels, and by its
means he could, by the one Guide screw, obtain screws of every variety
of pitch and diameter.  As an illustration of its complete accuracy
I may mention that by its means a screw of five feet in length and two
inches in diameter was cut with fifty threads to the inch; the Nut to
fit on to it being twelve inches long, and containing six hundred
threads!  This screw was principally used for dividing scales for
astronomical and other metrical purposes of the highest class.
By its means divisions were produced with such minuteness that they
could only be made visual by a microscope.

This screw was sent for exhibition to the Society of Arts.  It is still
preserved with the utmost care at the Lambeth Works amongst the many
admirable specimens of Henry Maudslay's inventive genius and delicate
handiwork.  Every skilled mechanic must thoroughly enjoy the sight of
it, especially when he knows that it was not produced by an exceptional
tool, but by the machine that was daily employed in the ordinary work
of the factory.

I must not, however, omit to say that I took an early opportunity of
presenting Brougham's letter of introduction to Faraday at the Royal
Institution.  I was received most cordially by that noble-minded man,
whose face beamed with goodness and kindness.  After some pleasant
conversation he said he would call upon me at Maudslay's, whom he knew
very well.  Not long after Faraday called, and found me working beside
Maudslay in his beautiful little workshop.  A vice had been fitted up
for me at the bench where he himself daily worked.  Faraday expressed
himself as delighted to find me in so enviable a position.
He congratulated me on my special good fortune in having the
inestimable advantage of being associated as assistant workman with one
of the greatest mechanical engineers of the day.

Mr. Maudslay offered to conduct Faraday through his workshops, and I
was permitted to accompany them.  I was much impressed with the
intelligent conversation of Faraday, as well as with the quickness he
exhibited in appreciating not only the general excellence of the design
and execution of the works in progress, but his capacity for entering
into the technical details of the composite tools and machinery which
he saw during his progress through the place.  This most pleasant and
memorable meeting with the great philosopher initiated a friendship
which I had the good fortune to continue until the close of his life.

It was, of course, an immense advantage for me to be so intimately
associated with Mr. Maudslay in carrying on his experimental work.
I was not, however, his apprentice, but his assistant workman.
It was necessary, therefore, in his opinion, that I should receive some
remuneration for my services.  Accordingly, at the conclusion of my
first week in his service, he desired me to go to his chief cashier and
arrange with him for receiving whatever amount of weekly wages I might
consider satisfactory.  I went to the counting-house and had an
interview with Mr. Young the cashier, a most worthy man*
 [footnote...
I may mention that he was brother to Dr. Thomas Young, the celebrated
natural philosopher.
 ...]
Knowing as I did the great advantages of my situation, and having a
very modest notion of my own worthiness to occupy it, I said, in answer
to Mr. Young's question as to the amount of wages I desired, that
"if he did not think ten shillings a week too much I could do well
enough with that."  "Very well" said he,"let it be so" And he handed me
over half a sovereign!

I had determined, after I obtained a situation, not to cost my father
another shilling.  I knew how many calls he had upon him, at a time
when he had his own numerous household to maintain.  I therefore
resolved, now that I had begun life on my own resources, to maintain
myself, and to help him rather than be helped any longer.  Thus the
first half-sovereign I received from Mr. Young was a great event in my
life.  It was the first wages, as such, that I had ever received.
I well remember the high satisfaction I felt as I carried it home to my
lodgings; and all the more so as I was quite certain that I could,
by strict economy and good management, contrive to make this weekly sum
of ten shillings meet all my current expenses.

I had already saved the sum of #20, which I placed in the bank as a
deposit account.  It was the residue of the sale of some of my model
steam-engines at Edinburgh.  My readers will remember that I brought
with me a model steam-engine to show to Mr. Maudslay as a specimen of
my handiwork.  It had gained for me the situation that I desired, and I
was now willing to dispose of it.  I found a purchaser in Mr. Watkins,
optician at Charing Cross, who supplied such apparatus to lecturers at
Mechanics' Institutions.  He gave me #35 for the model, and I added the
sum to my deposit account.  This little fund was quite sufficient to
meet any expenses beyond those of a current weekly nature.

[Image]  My cooking stove*
 [footnote...
I have this handy apparatus by me still; and to prove its possession of
its full original efficiency I recently set it in action after its rest
of fifty years, and found that it yielded results quite equal to my
grateful remembrance of its past services.
 ...]

But I was resolved that my wages alone should maintain me in food and
lodging.  I therefore directed my attention to economical living.
I found that a moderate dinner at an eating-house would cost move than
I could afford to spend.  In order to keep within my weekly income I
bought the raw materials and cooked them in my own way and to my own
taste.  I set to and made a drawing of a very simple, compact, and
handy cooking apparatus.  I took the drawing to a tinsmith near at
hand, and in two days I had it in full operation.  The apparatus cost
ten shillings, including the lamp.  As it contributed in no small
degree to enable me to carry out my resolution, and as it may serve as
a lesson to others who have an earnest desire to live economically,
I think it may be useful to give a drawing and a description of my
cooking stove.  The cooking or meat pan rested on the upper rim of the
external cylindrical case, and was easily removable in order to be
placed handy for service.  The requisite heat was supplied by an oil
lamp with three small single wicks, though I found that one wick was
enough.  I put the meat in the pot, with the other comestibles,
at nine o'clock in the morning.  It simmered away all day, until
half-past six in the evening, when I came home with a healthy appetite
to enjoy my dinner.  I well remember the first day that I set the
apparatus to work. I ran to my lodging, at about four P.M., to see how
it was going on.  When I lifted the cover it was simmering beautifully,
and such a savoury gusto came forth that I was almost tempted to fall
to and discuss the contents.  But the time had not yet come, and I ran
back to my work.

The meat I generally cooked in it was leg of beef, with sliced potato,
bits of onion chopped down, and a modicum of white pepper and salt,
With just enough of water to cover "the elements."  When stewed slowly
the meat became very tender; and the whole yielded a capital dish,
such as a very Soyer might envy.  It was partaken of with a zest that,
no doubt, was a very important element in its savouriness.  The whole
cost of this capital dinner was about 4 1/2d. I sometimes varied the
meat with rice boiled with a few raisins and a pennyworth of milk.
My breakfast and tea, with bread, cost me about fourpence each.
My lodgings cost 3s. 6d. a week.  A little multiplication will
satisfy any one how it was that I contrived to live economically and
comfortably on my ten shillings a week.  In the following year my
wages were raised to fifteen shillings a week, and then I began to take
butter to my bread.

To return to my employment under Mr. Maudslay.  One of the first jobs
that I undertook was in assisting him to make a beautiful small model
of a pair of 200 horsepower marine steam-engines.  The engines were
then in course of construction in the factory.  They were considered a
bold advance on the marine engines then in use, not only in regard to
their great power, but in carrying out many specialities in their
details and general structure.  Mr. Maudslay had embodied so much of
his thought in the design that he desired to have an exact model of
them placed in his library, so as to keep a visible record of his ideas
constantly before him.  In fact, these engines might be regarded as the
culmination of his constructive abilities.

In preparing the model it was necessary that everything should be made
in exact conformity with the original.  There were about three hundred
minute bolts and nuts to be reduced to the proportional size.
I esteemed it a great compliment to be entrusted with their execution.
They were all to be made of cast-steel, and the nuts had to be cut to
exact hexagonal form.  Many of them had collars.  To produce them by
the use of the file in the ordinary mode would not only have been
difficult and tedious, but in some cases practically impossible.

[Image]  Collar-nut cutting machine.

To get rid of the difficulty I suggested to Mr. Maudslay a contrivance
of my own by means of which the most rigid exactness in size as well as
form could be given to these hexagonal nuts.  He readily granted his
permission.  I constructed a special apparatus, consisting of a hard
steel circular cutter to act as a circular file. When brought into
operation in the production of these minute six-sided collared nuts,
held firm in the spindle of a small dividing plate and attached to the
slide-rest, each side was brought in succession under the action of the
circular file or cutter with the most exact precision in regard to the
division of the six sides.  The result was absolutely perfect as
respects the exactness of the six equal sides of the hexagonal nut, as
well as their precise position in regard to the collar that was of one
solid piece with it.  There was no great amount of ingenuity required
in contriving this special tool, or in adapting it to the slide-rest of
the lathe, to whose spindle end the file or cutter /\ was fixed.
But the result was so satisfactory, both as regards the accuracy and
rapidity of execution in comparison with the usual process of hand
filing, that Mr. Maudslay was greatly pleased with the arrangement as
well as with my zeal in contriving and executing this clever little
tool.  An enlarged edition of this collar-nut cutting machine was soon
after introduced into the factory.

[Image]  Arrangement of the machine

It was one of the specialities that I adopted in my own workshop when I
commenced business for myself, and it was eagerly adopted by mechanical
engineers, whom we abundantly supplied with this special machine.
It was an inestimable advantage to me to be so intimately associated
with this Great Mechanic.  He was so invariably kind, pleasant, and
congenial.  He communicated an infinite number of what he humorously
called "Wrinkles" which afterwards proved of great use to me.
My working hours usually terminated at six in the evening.  But as many
of the departments of the factory were often in full operation during
busy times until eight o'clock, I went through them to observe the work
while in progress.  On these occasions I often met "the guvnor, as the
workmen called Mr. Maudslay.  He was going his round of inspection,
and when there was any special work in hand he would call me up to him
to and explain point in connection with it that was worthy of
particular notice.  I found this valuable privilege most instructive,
as I obtained from the cheif mechanic himself a full insight into the
methods, means, and processes by which the skilful workman advanced
the various classes of work.  I was also permitted to take notes and
make rapid sketches of any object that specially interested me.
The entire establishment thus became to me a school of practical
engineering of the most instructive kind.

Mr. Maudslay took pleasure in showing me the right system and method of
treating all manner of materials employed in mechanical structures.
He showed how they might be made to obey your will, by changing them
into the desired forms with the least expenditure of time and labour.
This in fact is the true philosophy of construction. When clear ideas
have been acquired upon the subject, after careful observation and
practice, the comparative ease and certainty with which complete
mastery over the most obdurate materials is obtained, opens up the most
direct road to the attainment of commercial as well as of professional
success.

To be permitted to stand by and observe the systematic way in which
Mr. Maudslay would first mark or line out his work, and the masterly
manner in which he would deal with his materials, and cause them to
assume the desired forms, was a treat beyond all expression.
Every stroke of the hammer, chisel, or file, told as an effective step
towards the intended result.  It was a never-to-be-forgotten practical
lesson in workmanship, in the most exalted sense of the term.
In conformity with his often repeated maxim, "that there is a right way
and a wrong way of doing everything," he took the shortest and most
direct cuts to accomplish his objects.  He illustrated this by telling
me, in his own humorous style, " When you want to go from London to
Greenwich, don't go round by Inverness."  Another of his droll sayings
was that he "considered no man a thorough mechanic unless he could cut
a plank with a gimlet, and bore a hole with a saw!"

The grand result of thoughtful practice is what we call experience:
it is the power or faculty of seeing clearly before you begin, what to
avoid and what to select--or rather what to do and what not to do.
High-class workmanship, or technical knowledge, was in his hands quite
a science.  Every piece of work was made subject to the soundest
philosophical principles, as applied to the use and treatment of
materials.  It was this that gave such a charm of enjoyment to his
dealing with tools and materials.  He loved this sort of work for its
own sake, far more than for its pecuniary results.  At the same time he
was not without regard for the substantial evidence of his supremacy in
all that regarded first-class tools, admirable management, and thorough
organisation of his factory.

The innate love of truth and accuracy which distinguished Mr. Maudslay,
led him to value highly that class of technical dexterity in
engineering workmen which enabled them to produce those details of
mechanical structures in which perfect flat or true plane surfaces were
required.  This was an essential condition for the effective and
durable performance of their functions.  Sometimes this was effected
by the aid of the turning-lathe and slide-rest.  But in most cases
the object was attained by the dexterous use of the file, so that
"flat filing" then was, as it still is, one of the highest qualities
of the skilled workman.  No one that I ever met with could go beyond
Henry Maudslay himself in his dexterous use of the file.  By a few
masterly strokes he could produce plane surfaces so true that when
their accuracy was tested by a standard plane surface of absolute
truth, they were never found defective; neither convex, nor concave,
nor "cross-winding,"--that is, twisted.

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

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

[Image]  Maudslay's "Lord Chancellor"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


CHAPTER 9.  Holiday in the Manufacturing Districts.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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