The chief object of my ambition was now to be taken on at Henry
Maudslay's works in London. I had heard so much of his engineering
work, of his assortment of machine-making tools, and of the admirable
organisation of his manufactory, that I longed to obtain employment
there. I was willing to labour, in however humble a capacity, in that
far-famed workshop.
I was aware that my father had not the means of paying the large
premium required for placing me as an apprentice at Maudslay's works.
I was also informed that Maudslay had ceased to take pupils.
After experience, he found that the premium apprentices caused him much
annoyance and irritation. They came in "gloves;" their attendance was
irregular; they spread a bad example amongst the regular apprentices
and workmen; and on the whole they were found to be very disturbing
elements in the work of the factory.
It therefore occurred to me that, by showing some specimens of my work
and drawings, I might be able to satisfy Mr. Maudslay that I was not an
amateur, but a regular working engineer. With this object I set to
work, and made with special care a most complete working model of a
high-pressure engine. The cylinder was 2 inches diameter, and the
stroke 6 inches. Every part of the engine, including the patterns,
the castings, the forgings, were the results of my own individual
handiwork. I turned out this sample of my ability as an engineer
workman in such a style as even now I should be proud to own.
In like manner I executed several specimens of my ability as a
mechanical draughtsman; for I knew that Maudslay would thoroughly
understand my ability to work after a plan. Mechanical drawing is the
alphabet of the engineer. Without this the workman is merely a "hand."
With it he indicates the possession of "a head" I also made some
samples of my skill in hand-sketching of machines, and parts of
machines, in perspective--that is, as such objects really appear when
set before us in their natural aspect. I was the more desirous of
exhibiting the ability which I possessed in mechanical draughtsmanship,
as I knew it to be a somewhat rare and much-valued acquirement.
It was a branch of delineative art that my father had carefully taught me.
Throughout my professional life I have found this art to be of the
utmost practical value.
Having thus provided myself with such visible and tangible evidences
of my capabilities as a young engineer, I carefully packed up my
working model and drawings, and prepared to start for London.
On the 19th of May 1829, accompanied by my father, I set sail by the
Leith smack Edinburgh Castle, Captain Orr, master. After a pleasant
voyage of four days we reached the mouth of the Thames. We sailed up
from the Nore on Saturday afternoon, lifted up, as it were, by the tide,
for it was almost a dead calm the whole way.
The sight of the banks of the famous river, with the Kent orchards in
full blossom, and the frequent passages of steamers with bands of music
and their decks crowded with pleasure-seekers, together with the sight
of numbers of noble merchant ships in the river, formed a most glorious
and exciting scene. It was also enhanced by the thought that I was
nearing the great metropolis, around which so many bright but anxious
hopes were centred, as the scene of my first important step into the
anxious business of life, The tide, which had carried us up the river
as far as Woolwich suddenly turned; and we remained there during the
night. Early next morning the tide rose, and we sailed away again.
It was a bright mild morning. The sun came "dancing up the east"
as we floated past wharfs and woodyards and old houses on the banks,
past wherries and coal boats and merchant ships on the river,
until we reached our destination at the Irongate Wharf, near the
Tower of London. I heard St. Paul's clock strike six just as we
reached our mooring ground.
Captain Orr was kind enough to allow us to make the ship our hotel
during the Sunday, as it was by no means convenient for us to remove
our luggage on that day. My father took me ashore and we walked to
Regent's Park. One of my sisters, who was visiting a friend in London,
was residing in that neighbourhood. My father so planned his route as
to include many of the most remarkable streets and buildings and sights
of London. He pointed out the principal objects, and gave me much
information about their origin and history.
I was much struck with the beautiful freshness and luxuriant growth of
the trees and shrubs in the squares; for spring was then in its first
beauty. The loveliness of Regent's Park surprised me. The extent of
the space, the brilliancy of the fresh-leaved trees, and the handsome
buildings by which the park was surrounded, made it seem to me more
splendid than a picture from the Arabian Nights. Under the happy
aspect of a brilliant May forenoon, this first long walk through
London, with all its happy attendant circumstances, rendered it one of
the most vividly remembered incidents in my life. After visiting my
sister and giving her all the details of the last news from home, she
joined us in our walk down to Westminster Abbey. The first view of the
interior stands out in my memory as one of the most impressive sights I
ever beheld. I had before read, over and over again, the beautiful
description of the Abbey given by Washington Irving in the Sketch Book,
one of the most masterly pieces of writing that I know of I now found
one of my day-dreams realised.
We next proceeded over Westminster Bridge to call upon my brother
Patrick. We found him surrounded by paintings from his beautiful
sketches from Nature. Some of them were more or less advanced in the
form of exquisite pictures, which now hang on many walls, and will long
commemorate his artistic life. We closed this ever memorable day by
dining at a tavern at the Surrey end of Waterloo Bridge. We sat at an
upper window which commanded a long stretch of the river, and from
which we could see the many remarkable buildings, from St. Paul's to
Westminster Abbey and the Houses of Parliament, which lay on the other
side of the Thames.
On the following day my father and I set out in search of lodgings,
hotels being at that time beyond our economical method of living.
We succeeded in securing a tidy lodging at No. 14 Agues Place,
Waterloo Road. The locality had a special attraction for me, as it was
not far from that focus of interest--Maudslay's factory. Our luggage
was removed from the ship to the lodgings, and my ponderous cases,
containing the examples of my skill as an engineer workman,
were deposited in a carpenter's workshop close at hand.
I was now anxious for the interview with Maudslay. My father had been
introduced to him by a mutual friend some two or three years before,
and that was enough. On the morning of May the 26th we set out
together, and reached his house in Westminster Road, Lambeth.
It adjoined his factory. My father knocked at the door. My own heart
beat fast. Would he be at home? Would he receive us? Yes! he was at
home; and we were invited to enter.
Mr. Maudslay received us in the most kind and frank manner. After a
little conversation my father explained the object of his visit.
"My son," he said, pointing to me, "is very anxious to have the
opportunity of acquiring a thorough practical knowledge of mechanical
engineering, by serving as an apprentice in some such establishment as
yours" "Well," replied Maudslay, "I must frankly confess to you that my
experience of pupil apprentices has been so unsatisfactory that my
partner and myself have determined to discontinue to receive them--no
matter at what premium. This was a very painful blow to myself; for it
seemed to put an end to my sanguine expectations.
Mr. Maudslay knew that my father was interested in all matters relating
to mechanical engineering, and he courteously invited him to go round
the works. Of course I accompanied them. The sight of the workshops
astonished me. They excelled all that I had anticipated. The beautiful
machine tools, the silent smooth whirl of the machinery, the active
movements of the men, the excellent quality of the work in progress,
and the admirable order and management that pervaded the whole
establishment, rendered me more tremblingly anxious than ever to obtain
some employment there, in however humble a capacity.
Mr. Maudslay observed the earnest interest which I and my father took
in everything going on, and explained the movements of the machinery
and the rationale of the proceedings in the most lively and kindly
manner. It was while we were passing from one part of the factory to
another that I observed the beautiful steam-engine which gave motion to
the tools and machinery of the workshops. The man who attended it was
engaged in cleaning out the ashes from under the boiler furnace,
in order to wheel them away to their place outside. On the spur of the
moment I said to Mr. Maudslay, "If you would only permit me to do such
a job as that in your service, I should consider myself most fortunate!"
I shall never forget the keen but kindly look that he gave me. "So ,"
said he, "you are one of that sort, are you?" I was inwardly delighted
at his words.
When our round of the works was concluded, I ventured to say to
Mr. Maudslay that "I had brought up with me from Edinburgh some
working models of steam-engines and mechanical drawings, and I should
feel truly obliged if he would allow me to show them to him?"
"By all means," said he; "bring them to me tomorrow at twelve o'clock."
I need not say how much pleased I was at this permission to exhibit my
handiwork, and how anxious I felt as to the result of Mr. Maudslay's
inspection of it.
I carefully unpacked my working model of the steam-engine at the
carpenter's shop, and had it conveyed, together with my drawings,
on a hand-cart to Mr. Maudslay's next morning at the appointed hour.
I was allowed to place my work for his inspection in a room next his
office and counting-house. I then called at his residence close by,
where he kindly received me in his library. He asked me to wait until
he and his partner, Joshua Field, had inspected my handiwork.
I waited anxiously. Twenty long minutes passed. At last he entered
the room, and from a lively expression in his countenance I observed in
a moment that the great object of my long cherished ambition had been
attained! He expressed, in good round terms, his satisfaction at my
practical ability as a workman engineer and mechanical draughtsman.
Then, opening the door which led from his library into his beautiful
private workshop, he said, "This is where I wish you to work, beside
me, as my assistant workman. From what I have seen there is no need of
an apprenticeship in your case."
He then proceeded to show me the collection of exquisite tools of all
sorts with which his private workshop was stored. They mostly bore the
impress of his own clearheadedness and common-sense. They were very
simple, and quite free from mere traditional forms and arrangements.
At the same time they were perfect for the special purposes for which
they had been designed. The workshop was surrounded with cabinets and
drawers, filled with evidences of the master's skill and industry.
Every tool had a purpose. It had been invented for some special
reason. Sometimes it struck the keynote, as it were, to many of the
important contrivances which enable man to obtain a complete mastery
over materials.
There were also hung upon the walls, or placed upon shelves, many
treasured relics of the first embodiments of his constructive genius.
There were many models explaining, step by step, the gradual progress
of his teeming inventions and contrivances. The workshop was thus
quite a historical museum of mechanism. It exhibited his
characteristic qualities in construction. I afterwards found out that
many of the contrivances preserved in his private workshop were
treasured as suggestive of some interesting early passage in his useful
and active life. They were kept as relics of his progress towards
mechanical perfection. When he brought them out from time to time,
to serve for the execution of some job in hand, he was sure to dilate
upon the occasion that led to their production, as well as upon the
happy results which had followed their general employment in mechanical
engineering.
It was one of his favourite maxims, "First, get a clear notion of what
you desire to accomplish, and then in all probability you will succeed
in doing it." Another was "Keep a sharp look-out upon your materials;
get rid of every pound of material you can do without; put to yourself
the question, 'What business has it to be there? avoid complexities,
and make everything as simple as possible." Mr. Maudslay was full of
quaint maxims and remarks, the result of much shrewdness, keen
observation, and great experience. They were well worthy of being
stored up in the mind, like a set of proverbs, full of the life and
experience of men. His thoughts became compressed into pithy
expressions exhibiting his force of character and intellect.
His quaint remarks on my first visit to his workshop, and on subsequent
occasions, proved to me invaluable guides to "right thinking" in regard
to all matters connected with mechanical structure.
Mr. Maudslay seemed at once to take me into his confidence. He treated
me in the most kindly manner--not as a workman or an apprentice,
but as a friend. I was an anxious listener to everything that he said;
and it gave him pleasure to observe that I understood and valued his
conversation. The greatest treat of all was in store for me.
He showed me his exquisite collection of taps and dies and screw-tackle,
which he had made with the utmost care for his own service.
They rested in a succession of drawers near to the bench where he worked.
There was a place for every one, and every one was in its place.
There was a look of tidiness about the collection which was very
characteristic of the man. Order was one of the rules which he
rigidly observed, and he endeavoured to enforce it upon all who were in
his employment.
He proceeded to dilate upon the importance of the uniformity of screws.
Some may call it an improvement, but it might almost be called a
revolution in mechanical engineering which Mr. Maudslay introduced.
Before his time no system had been followed in proportioning the number
of threads of screws to their diameter. Every bolt and nut was thus a
speciality in itself, and neither possessed nor admitted of any
community with its neighbours. To such an extent had this practice
been carried that all bolts and their corresponding nuts had to be
specially marked as belonging to each other. Any intermixture that
occurred between them led to endless trouble and expense, as well as
inefficiency and confusion,--especially when parts of complex
machines had to be taken to pieces for repairs.
None but those who lived in the comparatively early days of machine
manufacture can form an adequate idea of the annoyance, delay, and cost
of this utter want of system, or can appreciate the vast services
rendered to mechanical engineering by Mr. Maudslay, who was the first
to introduce the practical measures necessary for its remedy. In his
system of screw-cutting machinery, and in his taps and dies, and
screw-tackle generally, he set the example, and in fact laid the
foundation, of all that has since been done in this most essential
branch of machine construction. Those who have had the good fortune to
work under him, and have experienced the benefits of his practice, have
eagerly and ably followed him; and thus his admirable system has become
established throughout the entire mechanical world.
Mr. Maudslay kept me with him for about three hours, initiating me into
his system. It was with the greatest delight that I listened to his
wise instruction. The sight of his excellent tools, which he showed me
one by one, filled me with an almost painful feeling of earnest hope
that I might be able in any degree to practically express how thankful
I was to be admitted to so invaluable a privilege as to be in close
communication with this great master in all that was most perfect in
practical mechanics.
When he concluded his exposition, he told me in the most kindly manner
that it would be well for me to take advantage of my father's presence
in London to obtain some general knowledge of the metropolis, to see
the most remarkable buildings, and to obtain an introduction to some of
my father's friends. He gave me a week for this purpose, and said he
should be glad to see me at his workshop on the following Monday week.
It singularly happened that on the first day my father went out with
me, he encountered an old friend. He had first known him at
Mr. Miller's of Dalswinton, when the first steamboat was tried, and
afterwards at Edinburgh while he was walking the courts as an advocate,
or writing articles for the Edinburgh Review. This was no other than
Henry Brougham. He was descending the steps leading into St. James's
Park, from the place where the Duke of York's monument now stands.
Brougham immediately recognised my father. There was a hearty shaking
of hands, and many inquiries on either side. "And what brings you to
London now?" asked Brougham. My father told him that it was about his
son here, who had obtained an important position at Maudslay's the
engineer.
"If I can do anything for you," said Brougham, addressing me, "let me
know. It will afford me much pleasure to give you introductions to men
of science in London." I ventured to say that "Of all the men of
science in London that I most wished to see, was Mr. Faraday of the
Royal Institution." " Well," said Brougham, "I will send you a letter
of introduction. We then parted.
My father availed himself of the opportunity of introducing me to
several of his brother artists. We first went to the house of
David Wilkie, in Church Street, Kensington. We found him at home,
and he received us most kindly. We next visited Clarkson Stanfield,
David Roberts, and some other artists. They were much attached to
my father, and had, in the early part of their career, received much
kindness from him while living in Edinburgh. They all expressed the
desire that I should visit them frequently. I had thus the privilege
of 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.