The French Exposition of 1867. Final Break with Mr. Whitworth.
The French Exposition of 1867 was the second in the series of
expositions held in Paris at intervals of eleven years, from the first
in 1856 to the last, thus far, in 1900. In this exposition the Emperor
Napoleon planned to celebrate his entrance uninvited into the select
circle of crowned heads by bringing all his new cousins to visit him
in his capital. He succeeded pretty well. Asia was represented by the
Sultan of Turkey and the Shah of Persia. All the sovereigns of Europe
were there (but not all at the same time) with the exceptions of
Victor Emmanuel, who said he was too poor to go, and Queen Victoria,
who could not be induced to leave her retirement. The sovereign
people of the United States were also pretty well represented. One
other “emperor” was not there. With the zeal of a new convert, Louis
Napoleon had attempted to take advantage of the circumstance that
the United States had business enough of their own to attend to, and
improve the opportunity to plant monarchical institutions on this
continent. Maximilian, a brother of the Emperor of Austria, the first
and last Emperor of Mexico, was installed under the protection of
French bayonets. Affairs in the United States did not take the turn
that Napoleon had hoped for, and in compliance with a courteous request
from the President that he would withdraw his troops from Mexico and
save him the disagreeable necessity of driving them out, the French
withdrew, leaving the unfortunate Maximilian a prisoner in the hands of
the Mexicans.
On a day in the summer of 1867, a grand function was celebrated in the
Palais de l’Industrie, the building on the Avenue des Champs Elysées
in which the exposition of 1856 had been held, for the distribution of
gold medals to the successful exhibitors in this exposition of 1867.
The Emperor presided, surrounded by sovereigns and their suites, and
an assembly of 20,000 invited guests and holders of season tickets.
In the midst of the ceremonies, an official entered and handed to the
Emperor an envelope. After reading its contents he crossed over to
the seat of the Austrian ambassador and placed it in his hands. After
reading it the ambassador withdrew with his suite, and the proceedings
were continued to their close. That evening the public learned what
this envelope contained. It was a cablegram announcing the execution of
the quondam emperor, Maximillian, by the Mexican government. From this
point the fall of Napoleon proceeded steadily until he became “the man
of Sedan.” This dramatic scene, marking the culminating point in his
career, has, I believe, escaped the notice of historians.
The main building of the exposition of 1867, the first one held on
the Champ de Mars, was designed on a plan that has not been repeated.
It was a long building with semicircular ends, built around a narrow
open court, the length of which was equal to that of its parallel
sides. It was divided among the nations as a Yankee would divide a
pie if baked in a dish of similar form, while the various classes of
exhibits occupied, in the several nations, spaces equally distant from
the central court. Thus, as assumed in the plan, the visitor passing
through any radial avenue would see all the exhibits from one country,
and passing through an avenue laid out around the central court would
see all the exhibits of one class. The fine arts were at the center,
much of the statuary in the open court, then decorative art, and so on,
class after class, until that of machinery which surrounded the whole,
except that outside of this were the restaurants of all nations.
The plan was practically on many accounts a failure, first, from the
exceedingly unequal lengths of floor spaces allotted to the different
departments, the mean length of the machinery court, for example,
being between two and three times that devoted to the fine arts, and,
second, that it was utterly inadequate to accommodate the exhibits
in many departments. There was no adaptability in the system. The
consequence was the erection, in the ample outside area of the Champ
de Mars, of an enormous number of separate buildings, by all nations,
for particular classes of exhibits, some of which buildings were quite
large.
Although I exhibited in the British section, I sympathized deeply with
the American exhibitors, who were having lots of trouble. Mr. Seward
had appointed as the United States commissioner an American gentleman
who had lived in France for twenty years, who was ignorant of America
and Americans in a phenomenal degree, and was indifferent and despotic
in his treatment of the helpless exhibitors, until their exasperation
reached such a pitch that I heard it said every one of them would be
glad to pull on a rope to hang him. I will give two illustrations.
Mr. Corliss had been persuaded by Mr. Pickering to send over an engine
to drive the United States machinery exhibit. When the engine arrived,
it was found that the commissioner, although he had been advised of
this arrangement, had paid no attention to it, but had purchased a
French engine and installed it already for this purpose. The Corliss
engine was set by the side of this one, and ran idle through the
exhibition; never had a belt on. To make the matter worse, the French
engine was run every Sunday, although the entire United States exhibit
was covered up, and, as it could not run longer than a week without
stopping for repairs, it was idle for this purpose every Monday, and
this arrangement was sustained by the commissioner.
As other nations were putting up separate buildings for the overflow of
their exhibits, the commissioner thought the United States should do
the same. So in the winter previous he had got a special appropriation
for this purpose through Congress, and erected his building. When
finished he found it was all a blunder: he had absolutely nothing to
put in it. The United States exhibitors were fully accommodated in the
main building. What does he do but order enough of them into the side
building to fill it, leaving unoccupied spaces in the main building. A
number of our most eminent firms were driven there, being refused space
in the main building. In the machinery court an enormous empty space
was rented by the commissioner to a concern manufacturing collars and
cuffs.
So far as space was concerned, the machinery department seemed to
have the place of honor. It surrounded all the other classes of
exhibits, and was much wider and higher than any other. It had a
central gallery which I was told was seven eighths of a mile around.
This gallery carried the shafting. The exterior location of this
department was necessary, in order to have proper connection with the
boilers and systems of piping for both steam and water. Except the
American section, which was only one half occupied, it was crowded
with exhibits. The engines exhibited in motion in the main building,
of which there were a large number, were all condensing engines, water
from the Seine being quite convenient.
[Illustration:
EXPOSITION UNIVERSELLE, PARIS, 1867.
DIAGRAM FROM THE
“ALLEN” ENGINE, EMPLOYED IN DRIVING MACHINERY
IN THE BRITISH SECTION, AND MANUFACTURED BY
THE WHITWORTH COMPANY, LIMITED, MANCHESTER.
ENGINE, 12 INCHES BY 24 INCHES, REVOLUTIONS PER MINUTE, 200.
SCALE, 16 LBS. TO THE INCH.]
I took to this exposition five engines. One of them was 12×24 inches,
making 200 revolutions per minute. I advanced the speed from 600 feet
to 800 feet per minute, to show what both the engine and the condenser
could do. After all, however, I did not show one half of what with
proper port areas the high-speed system was capable of. The ports
were insufficient, having been adapted to a speed of 150 revolutions
per minute. I took great satisfaction in showing the condenser to my
old friends, Easton, Amos & Sons, who were all there, at one time or
another, during the exposition. Before the exposition opened we had
on hand at the works four condensers, one for an engine the Whitworth
Company were building for themselves, two for the parties already
mentioned, and the one for the exposition engine. As this was the
first one required to be running, I had to make the first test of the
condenser in this public way, which I immensely enjoyed doing.
Through the influence of Mr. Whitworth, we received an order from
Trinity House, which is the British lighthouse board, for two engines
to drive the machinery of an electric light. The English and the French
governments each made an exhibit of such a light, at the summit of a
high tower. The current was produced by rapidly revolving magnets, a
large number of which were set in a wheel.
Everything in this English exhibit was in duplicate. The requirement
was that either engine should drive either or both electric machines.
This involved the use of four clutches and a lot of gearing. I measured
the power required by one machine, at the works in London where they
were made, indicating their shop engine with the light on and with the
light off. To make sure I repeated this three times. I found that one
of my engines, 6×12 inches, non-condensing, at 300 revolutions per
minute, would drive the two machines, with the steam pressure we were
to have, I think 70 pounds, and cut off at one quarter of the stroke,
while it was capable of following five eighths of the stroke. So two of
these engines were furnished. The exposition was well advanced before
this machinery was ready for its trial. A large crowd had assembled
to witness it. With both machines on, the engines could only crawl
along. The superintendent of the British mechanical section ordered
one machine taken off. There was very little improvement. Then this
royal engineer, detailed from the army, and whose qualifications for
his position consisted in absolute ignorance of anything mechanical,
declared the trial finished, and strutted off with the remark, “There
has been a great blunder made here in providing the power.” The men in
charge of the machinery looked at me quite speechless. I asked them to
throw off the other machine also. This was done, when it appeared that
both engines, with steam following five eighths of the stroke--for I
had indicators on both of them to show it--could not drive the gearing,
except at a snail’s pace. They were then driven to examine the gearing
for resistances, and found the teeth wedged in the spaces throughout.
This gearing was removed and proper running gears substituted for
it, and after ten days’ delay away went the engines at full speed. On
this second trial one engine could drive both machines, cutting off at
one-quarter stroke, precisely as my measurement of the power had shown.
They then ran perfectly through the exposition and were accepted by
Trinity House. Did the superintendent apologize to me for his hasty
judgment or congratulate me on my success? He never made the slightest
allusion to it.
My fourth engine, of the same size, had been spoiled for practical use
by having the upper half of the cylinder and steam-chest planed off, to
show the cylinder and valves in section. It was belted from the large
engine to run very slowly, and thus exhibited the valves and gear in
motion to the end of the exposition. Mr. Whitworth wanted his friend
Mr. Owen to purchase this model for the South Kensington Museum, but
it appeared to Mr. Owen that Mr. Whitworth ought to present it to the
museum. This I learned from Mr. Hoyle. What was finally done with it I
have forgotten, if, indeed, I ever knew.
My fifth engine, of the same size, 6×12 inches, I got up to show what
the capabilities of high speed really were, so far as smooth and
safe running were concerned. The reciprocating parts, which weighed
altogether only 40 pounds, were exactly balanced. I did this by rolling
the crank-disk on a boring-table, with 40 pounds hung on the crank-pin,
and cutting out the lead from the hollow disk opposite the pin, where I
had purposely put it in somewhat in excess, until the pin came down to
the horizontal position. This brought the inertia of the reciprocating
parts of the engine, at every point in the revolution, into equilibrium
with the horizontal component of the centrifugal force of the revolving
counterweight. The vertical component of this force, or rather its
upward stress, for downward it would be resisted by the whole mass
of the earth, remained to be dealt with. To prevent the whole engine
from being lifted at the crank end by this stress at every revolution
might have been accomplished by putting on a heavy fly-wheel; but for
my use I wanted a very small one. The fly-wheel I put on the shaft was
a solid disk, 18 inches in diameter and ¹⁄₂ inch thick, with a rim 1
inch square. The bed of the engine I filled with lead, and set it on
a block of Caen stone 3 feet thick and wide and 5 feet long. To this
stone it was firmly bolted, and I was ready for business. The governor
was speeded to hold the engine at 500 turns per minute. As it might
be difficult for some persons to count this speed, I put a little
pinion on the end of the shaft, engaging with a larger wheel, one to
ten. Fifty revolutions per minute could be accurately counted, and the
speed was put beyond dispute. I was guilty of one oversight: I did not
protect this gear. A French gentleman had the skirt of his frock-coat
caught in it, and I thought it never would be got out. The engine had
been running only two or three days, but the speed being then well
established, I took off the gear. I ought to have protected it instead,
and have had it to substantiate the big story I am going to tell, but
it never occurred to me.
The engine running idle, I commenced very soon the exhibition for which
I had made all this preparation. That was to hold the governor down
by pulling the end of the lever up and letting the engine fly; which
it did without a jar or a sound, only phantoms of the cross-head and
connecting-rod being visible. That was my daily amusement and must have
been repeated many hundred times in the course of the exposition, and
of course always attracted a crowd.
We had no means of counting the speed, but I judged it to be more than
2000 turns per minute. When I released the governor and the speed fell
gradually to 500 turns, it appeared to every one as if the engine
were going to stop. But the governor never reacted, and soon the eye
became accustomed to the slower speed. This presented quite a curious
phenomenon. The connecting-rod was especially adapted to this enormous
speed, by being made of the form already shown, and which I afterwards
adopted for all my engines. This engine never gave any trouble, and was
sold, I think to Ducommen & Co., the purchasers of the large engine.
The electric light with its engines was installed at the South Foreland
Lighthouse, on the Shakespeare Cliff, east of Dover, if I remember
rightly. We brought nothing back to England with us.
I went to Paris a few days before the opening of the exposition, and
found my main engine already in running order, installed next to the
Whitworth exhibit of tools, and selected by the imperial commission as
one of the engines employed to give motion to the machinery exhibited.
By an imperial decree, the opening ceremonial of the exhibition was
to take place on Monday, April 2, at 2 P.M., and everything was to be
absolutely completed before that hour. The engines were to have been
tested the previous Saturday. Every engine in the building was ready,
but the imperial commission itself was behind. There was no steam.
The first interview I had with the superintendent of the British
machinery department was on this Saturday, when he came around to
notify the several English engine exhibitors to be in readiness to run
their engines the next day, Sunday, in order to make sure that there
should be no hitch on Monday, I told him I should not run my engine on
Sunday. “Very well,” said he, “we will run it for you,” and stalked
off. Before going away I took out the pin at the end of the governor
lever connecting the governor with the valve motion and put it in my
pocket. Never heard any reproof, put the pin back on Monday, and when
they gave us steam the engine started off as if it had always been
running, and continued to do so until the signal for shutting down at 5
o’clock. I had my hand on the wheel of the stop-valve to close it, when
suddenly all the valve-rods of the engine bent and tangled up, and the
exclamation was heard on all sides, “The high-speed engine has come to
grief the very first day.”
On examination it was found that the cast-iron stuffing-box gland on
one of the valve-stems had fired, and was fast on the stem. One of our
troubles at the Whitworth works was the habit of the workmen, which may
have been common to all toolmakers, of making close fits. We had no
standard reamers nor any system whatever, and Mr. Watts, finding on his
inspection everything too tight to run, had to have holes enlarged and
stems reduced by grinding with Turkey dust. Sometimes this had to be
done over and over. He was very thorough, but this once he missed it,
with the above result. The case looked pretty bad, but luckily nothing
was broken, and when the exposition opened at 9 o’clock the next
morning every trace of the accident had disappeared and the engine ran
as if nothing had happened, and continued to do so for several months,
till the close of the exposition. We took pains that night, while we
were about it, to make sure against any repetition of that performance.
I had nearly forgotten to mention a little surprise that I had: The day
after my arrival a friend who had preceded me a few days said to me,
“Come with me; I want to show you something.” He led me through the
entire circuit of the machinery hall, and showed me engines with my
central counterweight governor brought to that exposition from every
country in Europe. I learned afterwards in conversation that, following
its exhibition in London, five years before, the use of this governor
on the Continent had become quite general.
The day after the opening I asked the superintendent when I ought to
expect a visit from the jury of award. I told him it was necessary
that I should return to Manchester to bring over my family, and I was
anxious not to miss the jury. “I would advise you,” said he, “to go at
once. The jury will not be organized for a week or more.” I left that
night, leaving the engine in charge of a young Frenchman to run it, and
was back in five days. The first thing this man had to tell me was:
“The jury were here yesterday. They did not stay but a few minutes. All
their remarks that I heard were in French, so I think they must all
have been Frenchmen. I heard them say, ‘An engine running at that speed
(200 revolutions per minute) will knock itself to pieces before the
exposition is over.” This although it was running in absolute silence
before their eyes. “They did not ask me any questions.” “What did
they say about the condenser?” (The Bourdon gauge showed more than 28
inches vacuum all the time.) “They laughed at that; said no engine ever
maintained such a vacuum,” which was quite true. I hurriedly sought out
the superintendent. In answer to my complaint he said flippantly, “Oh,
that visit was only preliminary. They will be around again in a few
days.” I have waited for that visit ever since. Never saw or heard of
the jury any more, but when the list of gold medal awards was published
my name was not on it.
I learned afterwards that the order to all the juries was to commence
their labors the morning after the opening of the exposition, and have
their reports in within three weeks. The superintendent must have been
officially informed of this order, and he deliberately misled me. I
have always wondered if this was his revenge on me for not having run
on Sunday as he ordered.
So far as concerns their judgment on the engine, “before the exposition
was over” it had won the admiration of every engineer in Europe. Mr.
John Hick of Bolton, then the leading builder of stationary engines in
England, and afterwards the head of the great engineering firm of Hick,
Hargreaves & Co., made a visit to the engine every afternoon during his
stay, sometimes watching it for a long time. It had a fascination for
him. He told me that no amount of testimony would have made him believe
that an engine could have been made to run so smoothly and silently at
such a speed, or to maintain such a vacuum. He said that if my engine
shown in London had made anything like so favorable an impression on
his mind, he would have made me a proposition for its manufacture;
but it did not. The reason for this I had learned long before, the
reason why it did not impress any one favorably, it was non-condensing.
He added that he had since made other arrangements which made such
proposition now impossible. I knew what those arrangements were. He had
two years before taken up the manufacture of the Corliss engine, under
the management of Mr. William Inglis, a Canadian engineer, by whom this
engine had been successfully introduced into England. I knew Mr. Inglis
well, and rejoiced in his success, as every one who knew him must have
done. As for any rivalry between us such a thing was never thought of,
there was room for both of us ten times over.
I was very courteously waited upon by a French engineer, who asked me
if I were acquainted with the Deluel vacuum-gauge. I told him that I
was not. He said that he was happy to introduce it to my notice. The
vacuum shown by the Bourdon gauge on my condenser was so remarkable,
especially with an air-pump running so swiftly, that it could not be
accepted with confidence by engineers, unless actually shown by the
mercurial column. The Deluel gauge was the only one in which this was
employed. With many apologies for what was indeed the greatest kindness
to me, he ventured to suggest that the Deluel gauge be placed on the
condenser. He kindly gave me the address of the firm in Paris. A sharp
Yankee will probably recognize him as an accomplished drummer for the
house. This did not occur to me, but I am under obligation to him all
the same.
I lost no time in getting a Deluel gauge, and the same night had the
condenser drilled to put it on. To my disgust no tap could be found to
fit its thread. So I had to drive a wooden plug in the hole. The next
day I called again at their store, nearly three miles from the Champ de
Mars, and told them of my predicament. With a profusion of regrets for
the inconvenience I had been put to, which he must have known that I
would be, the gentleman produced a set of taps, and kindly loaned them
to me, observing with evident pride that this was “a thread peculiar to
their house.” The Deluel gauge was put on that night, and next morning
I had the great satisfaction of seeing that its reading agreed with
that of the Bourdon gauge precisely.
I neglected to patent this condenser, so there was nothing to connect
me with it, and the next year coming home, where I had no occasion for
it, I quite lost sight of it. But at our Centennial Exhibition, nine
years after, I saw a large horizontal engine sent from Belgium with the
old familiar box behind the cylinder, and about twenty years after that
I had the pleasure of having the condenser described to me, as if I
were a stranger to it, by Mr. F. M. Wheeler, who mentioned particularly
the inclined bottom of the condensing chamber, the feature by which
the air was prevented from mingling with the water. He informed me
that it was a condenser then commonly used in Europe, and was seen in
all illustrations of horizontal condensing engines. I have forgotten
whether or not I told him what I knew about the origin of this
condenser.
At this exposition only the English had a building devoted to the show
of artillery. The principal features that I remember were the Whitworth
and the Armstrong systems, which were elaborately represented. I used
to say that the British lion here invited the other beasts to examine
his teeth.
The French and the English had each a large building on the bank of the
Seine devoted to naval exhibits. In the former I happened to be present
at a reception held by the young Prince Imperial, at which he received
the congratulations of, among others, many prominent Englishmen, some
of whom I recognized. How bright, then, seemed his prospects! How sad
his end! But how grand for France, her return to a free republic; long
may it live!
In the English naval exhibit three men made an exhibition of their
childish extravagance. Models were shown of a fleet of eight vessels,
each quite 10 feet long, completely and superbly finished inside and
out, and entitled “England’s Fleet of the Future.” The vessels, full
rigged, were built by Robert Napier. They were provided with engines
made by John Penn, and carried broadsides of Whitworth guns. Recalled
in the light of to-day, this costly show appears supremely ridiculous.
It did not present a single feature that has not long since vanished
and become almost forgotten. Both the prince and the toys furnish a
lesson to the moralist. How swiftly, as by a cyclone, has all that each
represented been swept away forever! What is there, in governments or
in mechanism, that shall endure?
It was my good fortune one day in the latter building to meet Admiral
Farragut. I heard him say, respecting this proud fleet, “When it is
built, some Yankee will come with a torpedo and blow it out of the
water.” One other terse reply of the old hero which I then heard is
worthy to be recorded. He was asked his opinion of the monitor. “A
machine to drown a man in like a rat, sir,” was his answer.
About midsummer I received an application from the firm of Ducommen
et Cie. of Mulhouse, a city in the southern part of Alsace, and an
important manufacturing center, whose people also had no foreboding
of what was so soon to befall them, for a concession to manufacture
my engines in France. They had a large exhibit at the exposition, and
impressed me quite favorably. I consulted with Mr. Hoyle and replied,
deferring action until a later period of the exposition. Some time in
September, not having received any other application, I accepted this
one. There I made a mistake. Just before the close of the exposition I
received a very flattering letter from the firm of Farcot et Cie., the
most eminent stationary engine-builders in France, and who showed the
largest engine at the exposition. Their works were near Paris, and on
their invitation, in company with Mr. Hoyle, I had visited them. They
stated that, having observed closely the performance of the engine
through all these months, they had become convinced of its excellent
and durable qualities, and solicited the right to manufacture the
engine in France. I had to pay the penalty for my premature action
in explaining to them with deep regret that this right was already
disposed of. My regret was deepened when, in the course of the
following winter, I received in Manchester copies of drawings according
to which Ducommen et Cie. proposed to construct the engines. The
changes they had made, all in the direction of complication, amazed me.
It seemed to have rained bolts and nuts. Every constructive requirement
of a successful high-speed engine was ignorantly sacrificed. After full
consultation Mr. Hoyle and I agreed that the case was hopeless, that
they would never do anything; and they never did. I have no photographs
of the Paris Exposition. It was a very singular thing that none were
taken there, so far as I ever heard.
Near the close of the exposition I had another visit from Mr. Allen. He
had been sent over by our associates to see for himself and to report
to them what I had really accomplished. He stayed with me a little
while after our return to Manchester. Mr. Whitworth treated us with
the greatest civility. On his invitation we rode out to his country
home and spent the day with him. This visit is worth recording. His
estate lay in Derbyshire, adjacent to Chatsworth, the well-known seat
of the Duke of Devonshire. It occupied a rather broad valley, extending
to the sky-line of high ranges of hills on each side, and comprised
three thousand acres. He told me that three adjoining estates fell
into the market, one after another, and he succeeded in getting the
whole of them. In the middle of this valley was a lower isolated hill,
containing stone quarries that had been worked from time immemorial,
and which, when he bought, were surrounded by unsightly heaps of
débris. Mr. Whitworth had closed the quarries, covered these heaps
with earth on which trees were then growing, and transformed the whole
into most picturesque ornamental grounds. After lunch Mr. Whitworth
took his cane and, with a step as sprightly as a schoolboy’s, led us
a tramp over this region. In the quarries he had formed galleries at
different elevations. Finally, at the top of the hill, commanding views
of his whole estate, he had leveled a space about 100 by 200 feet and
surrounded it with a rustic battlement of rocks. Here a grassy sward
smooth and level as a billiard table was used as a croquet ground,
this being at that time a universal outdoor game in England. He had a
democratic park. It had no wall, and wire fences were as yet unknown,
so he could not keep deer. But on his fields we saw many cattle
grazing. He told us he was raising blooded stock, and expected the next
year to commence annual sales. We observed the very pleasant house
beautifully located in the valley, but he told us he was planning to
remove it and build a baronial hall in its place. I learned afterwards
from Mr. Hoyle that he had for some time kept two London architects
employed on designs for this hall, which designs he then employed
another draftsman to combine into a plan to suit himself, but had not
as yet determined on anything. As he was an old man, and had no one in
the world to leave this estate to, I could account for his devotion to
it only by his restless temperament, that must always find some new
outlet for his energy.
I, however, did not want him to expend any of this energy in getting
a steam-engine to suit him, and so the passing months brought us no
nearer to an agreement. My experience with Ducommen et Cie. confirmed
me in my decision not to let the mechanical control of the engine in
England pass out of my hands, and Mr. Hoyle told me that he could not
advise me to do so. Mr. Whitworth was at that time in the death agonies
of his artillery system, and I did not meet him, but I learned through
Mr. Hoyle that he was highly indignant at me for presuming to take the
position I had done, and was immovably fixed in his own.