There are many stories told of the boyhood of James Watt. He lived at

Greenock on the River Clyde in Scotland, and was of a quiet, almost

shy disposition, and delicate in health. He was fond of drawing and of

studying mechanical problems, but rarely had much to say about his

studies. The story goes that as he sat one evening at the tea-table

with his aunt, Mrs. Muirhead, she said reprovingly to him, “James

Watt, I never saw such an idle boy: take a book or employ yourself

usefully; for the last hour you haven’t spoken a word, but taken

off the lid of that kettle and put it on again, holding a cup or a

silver spoon over the steam, watching it rise from the spout, and

catching the drops it falls into. Aren’t you ashamed of spending your

time in this way?” And history goes on to presume that as the boy

watched the bubbling kettle he was studying the laws of steam and

making ready to put them to good use some day.

[Illustration: WATT FIRST TESTS THE POWER OF STEAM]

He picked out the trade of a maker of mathematical instruments, and

went to London to fit himself for it. He was apprenticed to a good

master and made rapid progress, but the climate of London was bad for

his health, and as soon as his term of instruction was finished he

went back to Scotland. There he found it difficult to get employment,

but at last he obtained permission to open a small shop in the

grounds of the University of Glasgow, and to call himself

“Mathematical-instrument-maker to the University.”

When the Newcomen engine was given to Watt to repair he studied it

closely, and soon reached an important conclusion. A great amount of

heat was lost whenever the cold water was let into the cylinder to

condense the steam, and this loss vastly increased the expense of

running the engine, and cut down its power. He saw that to prevent

this loss the cylinder must be kept as hot as the steam that entered

it. This led him to study the nature of steam, and he had soon made

some remarkable discoveries in regard to it. He found that water had a

high capacity for storing up heat, without a corresponding effect on

the thermometer. This hidden heat became known as latent heat.

It was of course a matter of common knowledge that heat could be

obtained by the combustion of coal or wood. Watt found that heat lay

also in water, to be drawn out and used in what is called steam. If

you change the temperature of water you find that it exists in three

different states, that of a liquid, or water, that of a solid, or ice,

and that of a gas, or steam. If water were turned into steam, and two

pounds of this steam passed into ten pounds of water at the freezing

point the steam would become liquid, or water, again, at 212° of

temperature, but at the same time the ten pounds of freezing water

into which the steam had been passed would also have been raised to

212° by the process. This shows that the latent heat of the two pounds

of steam was sufficient to convert the ten pounds of freezing water

into boiling water. That is the latent heat which is set free to work

when the steam coming in contact with the cold changes the vapor from

its gaseous to a liquid state. The heat, however, is only latent, or

in other words of no use, until the temperature of the water is raised

to 212°, and the vapor rises.

Mr. Lauder, a pupil of Lord Kelvin, writing of Watt’s “Discoveries of

the Properties of Steam,” describes his results in this way: “Suppose

you take a flask, such as olive oil is often sold in, and fill it with

cold water. Set it over a lighted lamp, put a thermometer in the

water, and the temperature will be observed to rise steadily till it

reaches 212°, where it remains, the water boils, and steam is produced

freely. Now draw the thermometer out of the water, but leaving it

still in the steam. It remains steady at the same point--212°. Now it

requires quite a long time and a large amount of heat to convert all

the water into steam. As the steam goes off at the same temperature as

the water, it is evident a quantity of heat has escaped in the steam,

of which the thermometer gives us no account. This is latent heat.

“Now, if you blow the steam into cold water instead of allowing it to

pass into the air, you will find that it heats the water six times

more than what is due to its indicated temperature. To fix your idea:

suppose you take 100 lbs. of water at 60°, and blow one pound of steam

into it, making 101 lbs., its temperature will now be about 72°, a

rise of 12°. Return to your 100 lbs. of water at 60° and add one pound

of water at 212° the same temperature as the steam you added, and the

temperature will only be raised about 2°. The one pound of steam heats

six times more than the one pound of water, both being at the same

temperature. This is the quantity of latent heat, which means simply

hidden heat, in steam.

“Proceeding further with the experiment, if, instead of allowing the

steam to blow into the water, you confine it until it gets to some

pressure, then blow it into the water, it takes the same weight to

raise the temperature to the same degree. This means that the total

heat remains practically the same, no matter at what pressure.

“This is James Watt’s discovery, and it led him to the use of

high-pressure steam, used expansively.”

Newcomen, in making his steam-engine, had simply made additions to

Papin’s model. Watt had already done much more, for in trying to find

how the engine might be made of greater service he had discovered at

the outset the principle of the latent heat of steam. He knew that in

Newcomen’s engine four-fifths of all the steam used was lost in

heating the cold cylinder, and that only one-fifth was actually used

in moving the piston. It was easy to see how this loss occurred. The

cylinder was cooled at the top because it was open to the air, and was

cooled at the bottom in condensing the steam that had driven the

piston up so as to create a vacuum which would lower the piston for

another stroke. Watt knew that what he wanted was a plan by which the

cylinder could always be kept as hot as the steam that went into it.

How was he to obtain this? He solved it by the invention of the

“separate condenser.” This is how he tells of his discovery. “I had

gone to take a walk on a fine Sabbath afternoon, early in 1765. I had

entered the green by the gate at the foot of Charlotte Street and had

passed the old washing-house, when the idea came into my mind that as

steam was an elastic body it would rush into a vacuum, and if a

communication were made between the cylinder and an exhausted vessel

it would rush into it, and might be there condensed without cooling

the cylinder. I then saw that I must get rid of the condensed steam

and injection-water if I used a jet as in Newcomen’s engine. Two ways

of doing this occurred to me. First, the water might be run off by a

descending pipe, if an offlet could be got at the depth of thirty-five

or thirty-six feet, and any air might be extracted by a small pump.

The second was to make the pump large enough to extract both water and

air.... I had not walked farther than the golf-house when the whole

thing was arranged in my mind.”

This was the discovery that gave us practically the modern

steam-engine, with its countless uses in unnumbered fields. Newcomen’s

engine was limited to the pressure of the atmosphere, Watt’s could use

the tremendous force of steam under higher and higher pressure. He led

the steam out of the cylinder and condensed it in a separate vessel,

thereby leaving the cylinder hot. He closed the cylinder top, and

prevented the loss of steam. The invention may seem simple enough as

we study it, but as a matter of fact it was the attainment of this

result of keeping the cylinder as hot as the steam that enters it that

has given us our steam-engine.

The morning following that Sunday afternoon on which the idea of the

condenser had occurred to Watt he borrowed a brass syringe from a

college friend, and using this as a cylinder and a tin can as a

condenser tried his experiment. The scheme worked, albeit in a

primitive way, and Watt saw that he was on the track of an engine that

would revolutionize the labor of men. But he saw also that it would

take both time and money to bring his invention to its most efficient

form.

His instrument-making business had prospered, he had taken in a

partner, and the firm now employed sixteen workmen. About the same

time he married, and rented a house outside the university grounds.

Soon he was busily at work building a working model of his

steam-engine.

A working model was very hard to make. Watt himself was a skilful

mechanician, but the men who helped him were not. The making of the

cylinder and the piston gave him the chief trouble. The cylinder would

leak. It took him months to devise the tools that would enable him to

make a perfect-fitting cylinder, and when he had accomplished that he

still found that in one way or another a certain amount of steam would

escape. Yet, although imperfect, his model was already many times more

powerful than the Newcomen engine he had started with.

But before very long Watt found that this work was leading him into

debt. He told his good friend Professor Black, who had discovered the

latent heat of steam before Watt had, that he needed a partner to help

him in his business of building engines. Black suggested Dr. Roebuck,

who had opened the well-known Carron Iron Works near Glasgow. The two

men met, and, after some negotiations, formed a partnership. Roebuck

agreed to pay Watt’s debts to the sum of a thousand pounds, to provide

the money for further experiments, and to obtain a patent for the

steam-engine. In return for this he was to become the owner of a

two-third interest in the invention.

It was more difficult to secure a patent in those days than in later

times, for both the courts and the public considered that the right to

make use of any new invention should belong to the whole world, and

not alone to one man or to a few men. Watt’s models had to be very

carefully made, and his designs very accurately drawn if he was to

secure any real protection, and the preparation of these took a vast

amount of time. But Roebuck continued to encourage him, and on January

5, 1769, he was granted his first patent, the very same day on which

another great English inventor, Arkwright, obtained a patent for his

spinning-frame. This first patent covered Watt’s invention of the

condenser, but not his next invention, which was the double-acting

engine, or in other words, a method by which the steam should do work

on the downward as well as on the upward stroke.

With his patent secured Watt spent six months building a huge new

engine, which he had ready for use in September, 1769. In spite of all

his painstaking it was only a partial success. The cylinder had been

badly cast, the pipe-condenser did not work properly, and there was

still the old leakage of steam at the piston. Men began to doubt

whether the new engine could ever be made to accomplish what Watt

claimed for it, but although he realized the difficulties the inventor

would not allow himself to doubt. Unfortunately his way was no longer

clear. Dr. Roebuck met with reverses and had to end the partnership

agreement, and Watt had to borrow money from his old friend Professor

Black to secure his patent. To add to his distress his wife, who had

been his best counselor, died.

Dr. Roebuck had owed money to a celebrated merchant of Birmingham

named Matthew Boulton. Boulton had heard a great deal about Watt’s

engine, and now consented to take Roebuck’s interest in Watt’s

invention in payment of the debt. At the same time the firm of

Boulton and Watt was formed, and in May, 1774, Watt shipped his trial

engine south, and set out himself for Birmingham.

Boulton was a business genius, and Watt now found that he could leave

financial matters entirely to his care, and busy himself solely with

his engine. He had better workmen, better appliances, and better

material in Birmingham than he had had in Glasgow, and the engine was

soon beginning to justify his hopes. But the original patent had only

been granted for fourteen years, and six of these had already passed.

Boulton was not willing to put money into the building of a great

factory until he was sure that the engines would be secured to the

firm. Therefore more time had to be spent in obtaining an extension of

the patent. This was finally done, and Watt was granted a term of

twenty-four years. At once Boulton set to work, the first engine

factory rose, and hundreds of men in England turned to Birmingham to

see how much truth there was in the wonderful stories that had been

spread abroad of the new invention.

Men soon learned that the stories were true. Orders began to flow in,

and Watt had his hands full in traveling about the country

superintending the erection of his steam-engines. The mines of

Cornwall had become unworkable, and as a great deal depended on the

success of the engine in such work, he traveled to Cornwall to make

sure that there should be no faults. The miners, the engineers, and

the owners had gathered to see the new engine. It stood the test

splendidly, making eleven eight-foot strokes per minute, which broke

the record. After that the other mines of Great Britain discarded the

old expensive Newcomen engine, and sent in orders for Watt’s. The firm

prospered, and the inventor began to feel some of the material

comforts of success. He had married a second time, and made a home for

his wife and children in Birmingham. Now, when he could spare the time

from superintending the workmen and traveling over the country, he

gave his thoughts to further inventive schemes.

Watt had not only invented the condenser and the double-acting engine,

he had produced an indicator for measuring the pressure of steam in

the cylinder, and also what was called the fly-ball governor, which

took the place of the throttle-valve he had first used to regulate the

speed of his engines. These improvements had so increased the uses of

the engine that scores of rival inventors were abroad, and therefore

he decided to secure a second patent. This he did in 1781, the patent

being issued “for certain new methods of producing a continued

rotative motion around an axis or centre, and thereby to give motion

to the wheels of mills or other machines.” The next year he secured

still another patent, and now he had so perfected his double-acting

engine that it had a regular and easily controlled motion, in

consequence of which, as he said in his specifications, “in most of

our great manufactories these engines now supply the place of water,

wind and horse mills, and instead of carrying the work to the power,

the prime agent is placed wherever it is most convenient to the

manufacturer.” This meant that the steam-engine had now reached the

point where it could be made to serve for almost any purpose and

placed in almost any position that might be required.

There was one further step for Watt to take in the development of his

invention. He wished a more powerful engine than his double-acting

one, and so he produced the “compound” engine. This was really two

engines, the cylinders and condensers of which were so connected that

the steam which had been used to press on the piston of the first

could then be used to act expansively upon the piston of the second,

and in this way the second engine be made to work either alternately

or simultaneously with the first. And this compound engine is

practically the very engine that we have to-day. Improvements have

been made, but they have been made in details. The piston-rings

invented by Cartwright have prevented the escape of steam, and so

permitted the use of a higher pressure than Watt could achieve, and

the cross-head invented by Haswell has provided the piston with a

better bed on which to rest and freed it from a certain friction.

The firm of Boulton and Watt had a successful career, and in time the

sons of the two partners took the latters’ places. Watt had occasion

to protect his patents by a suit at law, but he was victorious in

this, and by the time the patent rights had expired the firm had built

up such a large business that it was safe from rivals. Confident of

his son’s ability to carry on the business Watt at length retired, to

busy himself in studying other inventions, to cultivate his garden,

and to revisit familiar scenes in his beloved Scotland.

The steam-engine had come to take its place in the great onward march

of progress. Men were already at work planning to make it move cars

across the land and ships upon the sea. It was to revolutionize the

manufacture of almost everything; what men and women had done before

by hand it was now to do, and, devised at first because of the great

need of a new way to work the coal mines, it was to provide a motive

power to accomplish all kinds of labor.

Such is the story of how James Watt took Newcomen’s simple piston and

cylinder and so harnessed steam that he could make it do the work he

wanted.

V

ARKWRIGHT AND THE SPINNING-JENNY

1732-1792

All the great English inventors have sprung from families of small

means, and have had to work for their living. Richard Arkwright, born

at Preston, in Lancashire, December 23, 1732, was no exception to this

rule. He was the youngest of thirteen children, and his parents were

as poor as the proverbial church mice. He had no real education, only

such as he could pick up by chance, but he made the most of such

chances as came his way. He was apprenticed to a barber at Bolton, and

later took up that business for himself. It was an occupation in which

he would be apt to glean much gossip and many stray scraps of

information, but little that would tend to broaden his mind. Perhaps

he realized this for himself, and concluded that the hairdressing line

was not to be his destiny, for when he was in the neighborhood of

twenty-eight years of age he retired from his barber-shop, and became

a traveling dealer in hair and dyes. This would at least allow him to

see something more of the world.

His prospects at this new trade were good. He had come upon a new

method of dyeing hair and preparing it to be made into wigs. Wigs were

the fashion, and Arkwright had an excellent process, and was an

energetic and resourceful dealer. He saw something of the country

world of England, the men and women in it, what they wanted, and what

they needed. Doubtless his inventive mind was already revolving

improvements for them. The dealer in dyes and wigs was a shrewd and

canny man. Carlyle had this to say concerning him and his progress:

“Nevertheless, in stropping of razors, in shaving of dirty beards, and

the contradictions and confusions attendant thereon, the man had

notions in that rough head of his! Spindles, shuttles, wheels, and

contrivances, plying ideally within the same; rather hopeless-looking,

which, however, he did at last bring to bear. Not without difficulty.”

There is always a strain of romance, or at least adventure, in the

life of the itinerant pedlar, something of the free-footedness of the

gypsy, and something of the acumen of those Eastern traders who

traveled in caravans from the Orient. But doubtless we see the charm

more clearly than the traveler himself. It may have been, and most

likely was, a workaday job for Richard Arkwright. But consider the

romance that underlay it! This country vendor of hair was to become

one of the world’s great inventors, and to kneel before his sovereign

for the accolade that was to make him knight. Figaro of Seville, famed

as he was, was none superior to the Lancashire barber.

He traveled much through South Lancashire and Cheshire, and there he

came in daily contact with the cotton-spinners. A weaver of great

ingenuity and tireless purpose, James Hargreaves, had invented what

was known as a spinning-jenny, an arrangement by which many spindles,

fastened in a wooden frame, would work together by the turning of a

fly-wheel. This machine could do the work of many spinners, and in a

much shorter time. The rovings of cotton went under a bar-clasp that

took the place of the spinner’s finger and thumb. This bar-clasp could

be moved backward and forward on a rod as the spinner’s hand would do

when stretching the thread and winding it on. It had a precision of

action that resulted in a much greater regularity in the spun thread

than by the earlier process. It was a very ingenious device, and

Hargreaves deserved the greatest credit for the skill with which he

solved the problem.

But the spinners did not take kindly to this improvement. When they

discovered that Hargreaves could do more spinning with less work with

his machine, and could supply his own loom with all the woof that was

needed instead of keeping three or four spinners employed, they grew

highly indignant. They did not realize that the demand for cotton

cloth was far greater than the supply, and that they could all be

profitably employed operating the spinning-jenny. That panic which has

so often come over people when they learn of a new device entering

their field of action struck the cotton-spinners, and Hargreaves was

regarded as a foe rather than a friend. Hargreaves was driven from

Lancashire to Nottingham, and many of his larger jennies were broken

by mobs. A few of the smaller machines were saved, but the people’s

mind was very evident.

Hargreaves’ improvement on the old-fashioned spinning-wheel dates

from 1767, though he himself, it is said, had first used such a

machine in 1764. Two men, Wyatt and Paul, of Birmingham, had earlier

built a machine to spin stronger yarn than that usually used, but

their machine had shown many defects, and they had abandoned its use.

Arkwright knew of Hargreaves’ jenny, but not of the other machine, and

as he came upon none in use in his travels he cannot be held to have

been under any obligations to this earlier device.

The manufacture of cotton goods was in a primitive state in England.

Pure cotton fabrics could not be made, and the fustians that were

produced had a warp of linen yarn in them, due to the fact that no way

was known by which cotton yarn of sufficient strength could be spun.

Arkwright soon learned these difficulties that arose from the absence

of cotton warp and the deficiency of cotton weft, and his alert mind

commenced to wonder whether he could not so improve on Hargreaves’

jenny as to overcome these difficulties. He was not a skilled mechanic

himself, and so, when he decided to take up the subject, he employed a

clockmaker, named Kay, to help him. Realizing the hostility to any

improvement on the part of the cotton-spinners, he gave out that he

was engaged in building a machine to solve the world-old problem of

perpetual motion.

Under this cloak he worked, and soon found that his new occupation was

vastly more interesting than that of dealer in wigs had been. He was a

shrewd man, and therefore, when he withdrew from that trade in 1767,

it is probable that he foresaw that he was on the track of something

better. His idea was that cotton could be spun by rollers, and he said

that this thought occurred to him as he happened to watch a red-hot

iron bar lengthened out by passing between two rollers. But the iron

would necessarily have to be drawn out in such a process, while the

cotton wool could be indefinitely packed together. It would have to be

taken hold of, and forcibly stretched as it passed through the pair of

rollers, if it were to be drawn out, and not merely compressed. His

solution of this problem was a machine that had two pairs of rollers,

which were called drawing-rollers, the first pair of which revolved

slowly in contact with each other, while the second pair revolved more

rapidly in a similar way. One roller of each pair was covered with

leather, and the other was fluted lengthwise. The two were pressed

together by means of weights. In this manner the adhesion of the

cotton wool was safely secured, and there was no chance of the rollers

slipping around without drawing it in. The cotton passed through the

two pairs of rollers, and its extension depended entirely on the

difference in the velocity of the revolutions of the two pairs. When

the proper fineness had been obtained in this way, the cotton, as it

passed from the second pair of rollers, was twisted into a firm strong

thread by spindles attached to the frame.

Arkwright realized that he must have assistance in order to put his

machines on the market. He applied to a Mr. Atherton, and the latter,

although he considered the venture a hazardous one, sent him two

workmen to help in building his first machine. When this was

finished Arkwright went with it to Preston, and there set up his

spinning-frame and began to use it in a room of the house that

belonged to the Free Grammar School. His experiments convinced him of

its success. Then he thought how he could best introduce his machine

with least risk of rousing the popular fury. John Smalley, a liquor

merchant and painter, had helped him build his machine, and after

consultation, the two men decided to take the spinning-jenny to

Nottingham, which lay in the heart of the frame-work stocking trade.

[Illustration: SIR RICHARD ARKWRIGHT]

Historic Inventions · 第 4 / 18 段