Condition of the streets of London—Old oil lamps—Improvement in
lamps—Gas—Its introduction by Murdoch—Its adoption in London by
Winsor—Opposition to it—Lyceum and other places lit with it—Its
gradual adoption—The old tinder box—Improvements thereon.
[Illustration: LAMPLIGHTER—1805.]
LONDON was considered the best paved city in the world, and most likely
it was; but it would hardly commend itself to our fastidious tastes.
The main thoroughfares were flagged, and had kerbs; sewers under them,
and gratings for the water to run from the gutters into them—but turn
aside into a side street, and then you would find a narrow _trottoir_
of “kidney” stones on end, provocative of corns, and ruinous to boots;
no sewers to carry off the rain, which swelled the surcharged kennels
until it met in one sheet of water across the road. Cellar flaps of
wood, closed, or unclosed, and, if closed, often rotten, made pitfalls
for all except the excessively wary. Insufficient scavenging and
watering, and narrow, and often tortuous, streets, did not improve
matters, and when once smallpox, or fever, got hold in these back
streets, death held high carnival. Wretchedly lit, too, at night, by
poor, miserable, twinkling oil lamps, flickering with every gust, and
going out altogether with anything like a wind, always wanting the
wicks trimming, and fresh oil, as is shown in the following graphic
illustration.
[Illustration: LAMPLIGHTER—1805.]
In this, we see a lamp of a most primitive description, and that, too,
used at a time when gas was a recognized source of light although not
publicly employed. Of course there were improved oil lamps—notably
those with the burners of the celebrated M. Argand—and science had
already added the reflector, by means of which the amount of light
could be increased, or concentrated. In the _Times_ of May 23, 1803,
is a description of a new street lamp: “A satisfactory experiment
was first made on Friday evening last at the upper end of New Bond
Street, to dissipate the great darkness which has too long prevailed
in the streets of this metropolis. It consisted in the adaptation of
twelve newly invented lamps with reflectors, in place of more than
double that number of common ones; and notwithstanding the wetness
of the evening, and other unfavourable circumstances, we were both
pleased, and surprised to find that part of the street illuminated
with at least twice the quantity of light usually seen, and that light
uniformly spread, not merely on the footways, but even to the middle
of the street, so that the faces of persons walking, the carriages
passing, &c., could be distinctly seen; while the lamps and reflectors
themselves, presented no disagreeable glare to the eye on looking at
them, a fault which has been complained of in lamps furnished with
refracting lenses.”
Here, then, we have a perfectly independent testimony of the
inefficiency of the then method of lighting; and, when once complaint
begins, the remedy soon follows.
Gas was known, and was steadily fighting its way. Murdoch, who was
a metal founder at Redruth, had been experimenting upon gas made
from different materials, and in 1792 he lit up with it, his house
and offices. Nay, more, he nearly earned the fame, and consequent
punishment, of being a wizard; for he not only had a steam carriage,
but in this uncanny conveyance he would take bladders of this new
inflammable air, and actually burn a light without a wick. From
a scientific curiosity, he naturally wished to develop it into a
commercial undertaking, by which he might reap a substantial reward
for his ingenuity; and in 1795 he proposed to James Watt to take out
a patent for gas, instead of oil, as an illuminating medium. In 1797
he lit up Watt’s new foundry at Old Cumnock in Ayrshire; and in 1798
Boulton and Watt’s premises at Soho, Birmingham, were lit with this new
light; and they, on the peace of Amiens, in 1802, gave the townsfolk of
Birmingham something to stare at, and talk about, for they illuminated
the whole front of their house with gas. Murdoch, in 1806, received the
gold (Rumford) medal of the Royal Society for a communication detailing
how he had successfully applied gas to illuminate the house and factory
of Messrs. Phillips and Lee at Manchester.
In London we are chiefly indebted to a German, named Frederic Albert
Winzer (or, as he afterwards Anglicised his name, Winsor) for
introducing gas, and we have to thank his indomitable perseverance
for its ultimate adoption. In 1804, he took out a patent for the
manufacture of both gas and coke, and attempted to start a society
called “The National Light and Heat Company.” He wrote several works
not much larger than pamphlets, notably one on “The superiority of the
new Patent Coke over the use of coals” (1804); and “To be sanctioned
by an Act of Parliament. A National Light and Heat Company, for
providing our streets and houses with light and heat, where is proved
that the destruction of smoke would open unto the Empire of Great
Britain new sources of inexhaustible wealth.”
[Illustration: THE GOOD EFFECTS OF CARBONIC GAS!]
Of course it met with ridicule everywhere. People would be asphyxiated.
The place would be blown up. Even scientific men were not agreed as
to its value, and Sir Humphrey Davy openly laughed at it. But Winsor,
in 1803 and 1804, demonstrated the possibility of lighting houses,
&c., by means of the new light at the Lyceum Theatre, which was not
then used for dramatic purposes, but more for lectures; and as there
could be no possibility of confuting his facts, he necessarily gained
proselytes, and money was forthcoming in support of his schemes. The
first experiment in street lighting was in August, 1807, when Golden
Lane Brewery, and a portion of Beech, and Whitecross Streets were lit.
This is shown in the illustration, and, by its means, we see the shape
and arrangement, of the first street gas lamps. That the gas then in
use was very impure, and offensive to the smell, there can be no doubt;
but that it ever produced the effects so comically, and graphically
depicted, cannot be believed.
It is generally thought that Ackerman’s Fine Art Repository, in the
Strand, was the first shop in London lit with gas, in 1810; but there
is an earlier notice of its being so used (_Morning Post_, June
15, 1805): “The shop of Lardner and Co., the corner of the Albany,
Piccadilly, is illuminated every evening with the Carbonated Hydrogen
Gas, obtained from the decomposition of Coals. It produces a much more
brilliant light than either oil or tallow, and proves, in a striking
manner, the advantages to be derived from so valuable an application.”
There is a story, for which I cannot find any authority, that at
Ackerman’s a titled lady was so pleased with the light, that she wanted
to take it home with her in the carriage.
The Light and Heat Company died a natural death, but the indefatigable
Winsor started the Gaslight and Coke Company, and attempted, in 1809,
to obtain a Charter for the same; but it was refused by Parliament,
which gave rise to the following _jeu d’esprit_: “Gaslight Company. The
shareholders in this _most promising_ concern are somewhat disconcerted
at the decision of the House of Commons. Some think that it will prove
‘_a bottle of smoke_’, while others are of opinion that it will at last
‘_end in air_.’”
The Gaslight and Coke Company had offices in Pall Mall, and in the
street, in front, lamps for public use were once more exhibited,
this time for the benefit of the West-end loungers. In the engraving
a gentleman explains to his fair companion thus: “The coals being
steamed, produces tar or paint for the outside of houses, the smoke
passing thro’ water is depriv’d of substance, and burns, as you see.”
On hearing this peculiarly elementary scientific explanation, an
Irishman exclaimed, “Arrah, honey, if this man brings fire thro’ water,
we shall soon have the Thames and the Liffey burnt down, and all the
pretty little herrings and whales burnt to cinders.”
[Illustration: A PEEP AT THE GAS LIGHTS IN PALL MALL.]
In 1810 the Gaslight and Coke Company got their Charter, and
thenceforward the use of gas sprang into life, and although it may be
on its last legs, as an illuminating power, there is plenty of vitality
in it yet.
Winsor was buried at Kensal Green, and on his tombstone was cut the
text from the Gospel of St. John, chap. i. ver. 9: “_That_ was the true
Light which lighteth every man that cometh into the world.”
To light this gas or, indeed, to initiate any illuminating or heating
power, recourse was only to be had to the old, original tinder-box
and matches; now things utterly of the past, possibly to be found in
museums, as in the Ashmolean Museum at Oxford, labelled “Method of
procuring light in the Nineteenth Century.” This primitive arrangement
consisted of a flat round box of iron or brass, resembling closely a
pocket tobacco-box, which contained tinder. This tinder was made of
charred rag, _i.e._, linen or cotton rags burnt, but smothered so as
not to smoulder out in “the parson and clerk” of our childhood, and the
means of obtaining light therefrom was as follows:
The lid of the tinder-box being taken off, a piece of flint or agate,
and another of hard steel, were forcibly struck together, so as to
produce sparks. When one of these fell upon the tinder, it had to be
carefully tended, and blown, until it became a patch of incandescence,
sufficient to light a thin splint of wood some six inches long, having
either end pointed, and tipped with sulphur. You might be successful
at first trial, or, if the tinder was not well burnt, your temper
might be considerably tried. This was the ordinary mode, but there was
another—made with a pistol lock, having, in lieu of the priming-pan, a
reservoir of tinder. These two were combined with a small candlestick
which bore a wax-taper, and are frequently to be met with in
_bric-à-brac_ shops. Sometimes, also, in lieu of tinder, _amadou_ or
German tinder, made from a fungus, was used, or else thick and bibulous
paper was soaked in a strong solution of nitrate of potash, and both
were ignited by a spark from the flint and steel.
The first attempt to improve upon this machine, which was nearly as
primitive as an aboriginal “fire stick,” came from France, where, in
1805, M. Chancel invented a very pretty apparatus for producing light.
It consisted of a bottle containing asbestos, which was saturated
with strong sulphuric acid, and flame was produced by bringing this
into contact with matches of the ordinary type as to shape or very
slightly modified, coated at the ends with sulphur, and tipped with
a mixture of chlorate of potash and sugar. The phosphorous match,
too, was just beginning to be known. The following advertisement
probably refers to M. Chancel’s invention or some cognate method of
producing fire—_Morning Post_, December 27, 1808: “The success of
the Instantaneous Light and Fire Machines daily increases, and the
Manufactory in Frith Street, Soho, has become now the daily resort
of persons of the first fashion and consequence in town, who express
themselves highly gratified with the utility and ingenuity of these
philosophical curiosities.”
[Illustration]
[Illustration]