The trade in pencil-making at the time of which I am speaking -- about 1838 -- was chiefly in the hands of the Jews, and one important branch of it consisted in sawing these little nodules of plumbago into slices of about one-sixteenth of an inch in thickness. This art of sawing the plumbago was a most difficult one to acquire, and hitherto all efforts to replace hand labour by machinery had failed; hence it remained a monopoly in the hands of the Jewish workmen, who were paid as much as a guinea per pound for sawing the material. The difficulty of cutting it into slices without breaking them was very great, while the rounded shape of the nodules and their slippery surface rendered it most troublesome to hold them firmly during the sawing operation; moreover, the thin slices thus obtained were so brittle as to be easily broken by the accumulation of sawdust in the bottom of the saw-cut. Another difficulty arose from the presence of minute sparks of black diamond dispersed here and there throughout the mass; whenever the saw struck against one of them the slice was broken. The hand-saw used by the workmen had what is called a "wide-set"; that is, the teeth were bent right and left so as to well relieve it from the pressure of accumulated sawdust; the consequence being that the saw-cut was nearly as wide as the slice of plumbago produced, and hence each pound was reduced to about nine ounces of slices and seven ounces of dust. The result was that the price of the slices, augmented by twenty shillings for the labour of sawing, was brought up in value from about forty shillings to nearly £4 10s. per pound.
On enquiry into this matter, I found that I could purchase the sawdust for about half-a-crown per pound. These facts held out promises of a very profitable manufacture, if I could only succeed either in making a sawing-machine that would be less wasteful of the material, or in finding some means of consolidating this large quantity of dust, without such an admixture of extraneous matter as would prevent its being used in the manufacture of the best pencils.
I first tried the sawing-machine, which I constructed with great care. The principal features of novelty in this machine related to the saws; these were made from the main-springs of watches which had been broken while in use; they were extremely thin, and of a beautifully fine quality of steel. The "set" on the tooth was made especially small, and consequently the saw-cut was so narrow as to waste only a very little of the material in the form of dust. I entirely avoided the clogging of the saw in these narrow cuts, and the consequent splitting-off of the slice, by putting the teeth of the saw uppermost, and bringing the piece of blacklead to be cut downward upon it by the slow motion of a fine screw. By this means the dust fell freely downwards out of the saw-cut, and never clogged the saw or broke a slice of the material.
I was also successful in getting over the difficulty caused by striking against the little black diamond sparks, by the use of a spring friction clutch on the connecting-rod which reciprocated the saw-frame. This delicately-adjusted clutch was tightened up just sufficiently to overcome the usual resistance to the saw; but whenever that resistance was increased by contact with a diamond spark, the friction clutch simply yielded and the saw was rendered motionless, although the machine continued to work until it was thrown out of gear. It was in this way almost impossible to break a slice in the process of cutting; whenever the machine was thus rendered inactive, the diamond was searched for and removed in the usual way, when the sawing process was resumed.
Having thus succeeded in making a machine capable of saving a large
quantity of the plumbago which had hitherto been wasted as dust in the
ordinary process of sawing by hand, I considered it advisable to bring
my invention under the notice of the eminent pencil-makers, Messrs.
Mordan and Co., offering to saw their plumbago at a mere nominal cost,
and share with them the value of the material saved. Every offer was
rejected by them, under the plea that the firm could not suffer their
"prepared plumbago" to leave their premises; they, in fact, wished me
to put up my machine and work it in their manufactory; but this I
declined to do, and consequently I laid the machine aside for the
moment in deep disgust at this unexpected rebuff.
I then determined to try and utilise the plumbago dust which at that
time could be obtained so cheaply, and after several preliminary trials
I obtained leave from a city firm to use in private their powerful
hydraulic press, a machine capable, if necessary, of exerting a
pressure of 400 tons on the plunger of my experimental mould, which was
simply a cylindrical mass of iron, having an internal diameter of three
inches. This cylinder was half filled with the plumbago sawdust in a
pure state, and the short ram or plunger occupied the other half; it
projected above the surface as shown in Figs. 7 and 8, where A, Fig. 7,
represents a section of the cylinder in which the plunger, B, is
fitted, and C shows a recessed plate of iron on which the cylinder
rests. The powder to be pressed is shown at D; in this state the
apparatus was placed in a furnace and heated to redness, after which it
was removed to the hydraulic press, and the plunger forced down with a
pressure of about five tons to the square inch; the pressure being
continued until the whole had cooled down, and the powder had formed
into a solid mass.
The cylinder was then placed over a hollow block of
iron as shown at E, in Fig . 8, when pressure was again applied to the
plunger and the cylindrical mass of plumbago was forced out, after
which it was found to be in every way suitable for making the very best
lead pencils.
A young friend of mine to whom I showed some of this compressed
plumbago, offered to purchase the invention, at the same time saying
that he could not risk more than £200 on the venture; I, remembering
the rebuff with the sawing-machine, accepted his offer without further
consideration; my friend then went off to Cumberland, and made
arrangements with the Plumbago Company. At the present day we find that
the best lead pencils in the market are made by crushing the small
lumps and odd pieces of plumbago, then washing and floating the powder,
by that means getting entirely rid of the little black diamonds, and
producing various grades of hardness by different degrees of heat and
pressure.
I fear this little episode does not speak very favourably for my
business capacity in those early days, for I certainly ought to have
made much more than I did by this really important invention.
When I was experimenting with plumbago (about 1838) I was engaged in
designing a new system of casting types by machinery, some features of
which are of sufficient interest to be recorded. The moulds in this
machine were entirely composed of hardened and tempered steel, shaped
by laps, as the metal could be neither planed nor filed. From
fifty-five to sixty types were cast per minute in each of the two
compartments of the mould; and in order that the solidification of the
metal should take place in the extremely small interval of time allowed
for that purpose, the moulds were cooled by a constant flow of cold
water through suitable passages made in them, in close proximity to
those parts where the fluid metal came in contact. Another special
feature of this mode of casting was the employment of a force pump
placed within the bath of melted metal, by means of which the latter
was injected into the mould at the proper moment, the pressure of the
injected fluid being under the perfect control of a loaded valve. It
will be readily understood that a sharp jet of fluid metal would propel
with it an induced current of air, and consequently produce a bubbly
and spongy casting, which would have been wholly valueless. The short
space of time occupied in its solidification afforded no opportunity
for the escape of air in the usual way by floating in bubbles upward,
as in the case of castings where the metal is retained in its molten
state in the mould for several minutes.
I found an absolute cure for this apparently insuperable difficulty, by
forming a vacuum in the mould at the very instant at which the
injection of metal took place; and so successful was this system of
exhausting the moulds, that one might break a hundred types in
succession without finding a single blowhole in any one of them.
The iron or brass founder, whose slow and tedious operations are
performed by quietly pouring his molten metal into the mould with a
ladle, will at once see what a new departure in the art of founding
this machine presented. Firstly, there was the same mould producing
fifty-five to sixty castings per minute, instead of being broken up and
destroyed after one cast: then pouring the metal from a ladle was
replaced by injecting it with a force-pump, the mould itself having a
continuous stream of cold water running through suitable passages
formed in it so as to cool every part of its surface in contact with
the fluid metal; and, finally, instead of the mould being composed of
porous materials through which the confined air gradually escaped,
there was an almost indestructible mould, wholly free from pores, from
which all the contained air was withdrawn in the fraction of a second
by its sudden connection with an exhausted vessel at the moment when
the metal was injected.
The valve through which the metal was injected into the mould being
extremely small, required to be fitted very closely to prevent its
leaking; it was found that after it had been opened and closed some six
or seven thousand times, a portion of the fluid metal would, by
friction against the sides of the valve, be rubbed into powder, and
more or less obstruct its action. Otherwise, the really beautiful
mechanism of this casting machine performed all its functions with
perfect precision, and formed the bodies of the type so parallel and
so perfect in other respects, that it soon began to create much jealous
feeling and opposition among the type-founders, whose occupation was
threatened by it. For this reason, Messrs. Wilson, the well-known
type-founders, of Edinburgh, to whom I had sold my invention, preferred
to make no further efforts to improve the valve arrangements, and
allowed the whole matter to sink quietly into oblivion rather than face
the storm they saw was brewing.
About this period my attention was directed to the art of
engineturning, which was a very profitable one to the few who had
sufficient originality of thought to work out those marvellous
combinations of interlacing lines, such as we see at the present time
on the coupons of many foreign bonds. I was a most enthusiastic admirer
of these productions, especially those of that greatest of all
engine-turners, Jacob Perkins, the well-known American engineer. I felt
certain that I could employ one of these beautiful machines to
advantage, and I was fortunate enough to purchase a very good one for
£65.
How well I remember its being delivered at my premises one afternoon; I
had it placed in my private office, close to the window. I knew pretty
well nearly every detail of its construction, but I commenced by taking
it all to pieces, the better to impress my mind
with the smallest detail. Having put it together again, and taken my
evening meal, I lit my large argand lamp, and, with my back to the
window, I sat facing the Rose engine, and commenced my first essay on
some odd pieces of brass which I had mounted on the straight-line
chuck. I found myself rather awkward at first, but I soon began to
manipulate more successfully, and in a short time became deeply
absorbed in my work. I was ruling some very fine waved lines, which I
could not see so clearly as I wished, when, looking round to the window
on which my back had so long been turned, I was surprised to find the
grey morning light stealing quietly in, and rendering my lamp useless.
I had no idea that I had been sitting up all night, so imperceptibly
had the time glided by. I was, however, well satisfied with the
progress I was making, and was much delighted with my Rose engine,
additions to which I never seemed tired of devising, and
thus obtaining the infinity of beautiful effects which simple
interlaced curved lines were capable of producing. Nor was this
delightful work unaccompanied by a substantial reward, for almost
fabulous prices were sometimes paid for unique specimens of the art,
applicable as patent medicine labels, coupons, and for other purposes
where it was desirable to render fraudulent imitation impossible.
On this machine I engraved many rollers for paper-embossing and
printing for Messrs. De la Rue, and for the firm of Vizetelly and Co.,
etc. In cutting deeply-incised lines in metal for surface printing,
there was always a tendency in curves to drag or blur the surface of
the metal block. A little study of the subject convinced me that this
defect was owing to the quality of the metal employed, and after
several attempts I succeeded in making an alloy of tin and bismuth
which answered admirably. It made a sharp creaking sound as the tool
glided over it, cutting very crisp and raising no burr on the sides of
the line cut. Indeed, so perfectly did this alloy remove a serious
practical difficulty, that I used to manufacture blocks of the metal
for the trade. This was the case also with another alloy, of equal
parts of tin and zinc, to which were added 8 per cent. of copper and 3
per cent. of antimony. The metals forming this alloy have a tendency to
solidify in the order of their fusibility, and the alloy has
the peculiar property of passing from the fluid to the solid state so
slowly that it may be used at an intermediate stage, when it is neither
liquid nor solid; in this state it lends itself admirably to the
formation of what are called "forcers," used in embossing leather or
cards. This raised impression, or "forcer," is made by pouring the
melted alloy into an open frame laid on the edges of the die; when the
metal has attained a state of partial solidification, a beautiful
impression of the die may be obtained by gentle pressure, and the
alloy, when quite cold, is hard enough to stand the wear and tear of
stamping in a most remarkable manner. The sale of these alloys to the
trade was a welcome source of profit to me, and by no one was their
usefulness more appreciated than by the late Mr. Thomas De la Rue, the
talented founder of that well-known firm of fancy stationers, whom I
had the advantage of knowing intimately and numbering among my best
customers.
Thus, one branch of trade seemed to lead imperceptibly to another; but
I was always waiting and looking forward to the establishment of the
one large and steady branch of business that I hoped would some-day
allow me to drop the many schemes which my versatile mind so easily
created, seized upon, and engrafted on the business I was carrying on;
but this one great branch of trade, so earnestly desired had not yet
manifested itself. I was accordingly content in the meantime to hold on
to everything that fairly paid for the time and capital employed in
its production.
My life at this time was pretty much one of hard work and steady
attention to business, from which I could only snatch short intervals.
Late in the evening I would drop in and have a chat with my father,
then advanced in years, but ever anxious to hear of my progress, and
desirous to see the latest specimens of Rose engine work, or to discuss
with me some of the many new schemes that occupied my thoughts. At that
time my two sisters kept house for my father, and in this little family
a quiet evening. There was another house, however, to which my steps
were involuntarily wont to lead me. My friend, Mr. Richard Alien, had a
fair daughter, to whom I had for some time been engaged; thus, between
the two families
all my leisure hours were spent in friendly intercourse and quiet
meetings, without even a desire on my part to mix in any of those
gaieties which the world calls Society. Pleasant and delightful as were
these evenings, replete with all the charm of unrestricted social
amenities, they were, nevertheless, only steps to one great end and aim
of all my earthly aspirations: for above all things I desired to
exchange my lonely bachelor's apartments for a home of my own. I did
not see the wisdom of waiting for an indefinite time on "fickle
fortune," so as my betrothed was willing to share my lot in life, we
were married. We settled down quietly in Northampton Square, close to
my place of business, and I am happy to say that in all the changes and
vicissitudes of the sixty-four years that have passed since that happy
event, I have never had reason to regret a step which I had taken in
the full confidence of youth that I should, in time, be able to carve
out for myself a name and a position in the world worthy of her to whom
my life was henceforth to be devoted.
The white metal medallions and casts of natural objects, coated with a
film of copper and exhibited by me at the Museum of Arts and
Manufactures, in Leicester Square, attracted the attention of a
gentleman who had in his possession a great many of the beautiful dies
that had been engraved in the French mint, the impressions from which
are generally known as the "Napoleon Medals." Some of them were
engraved in steel, others were cut in brass, and all were of the most
exquisite workmanship. I made arrangements with the owner of these dies
to produce a great quantity of bronzed impressions of them at prices
which were highly renumerative. For this purpose, I devised a simple
apparatus for rapidly stamping the impressions in semi-fluid metal, the
only mode by which perfect impressions could be obtained from those
dies that were engraved in brass. After some considerable trouble, I
produced an alloy of tin and other metals, which differed from the
alloy named before in having no zinc in it, though it nevertheless
passed so slowly and so gradually from the fluid to the solid state,
that the most perfect impressions were obtained with unerring
certainty. The shower of splashes inseparable from stamping semifluid
metal was received in the case surrounding the dies, and this was
automatically closed as the press descended. Immense quantities of
these fine medallions were made, and beautifully bronzed without
impairing their sharpness. I still possess a few of them, more or less
damaged by time; and as an example of their general character, I give
photographic reproductions of some of them in the figures on Plates V.
and VI., each being the same size as the original. Those I have
selected include the famous "double-head," Napoleon and Josephine Fig.
9, Plate V.), said to be the finest portrait medals of the Emperor ever
produced.
Fig. 10, Plate VI., is another of these Napoleon medals,
and Fig. 11 is a medallion of the head of Minerva.
One day I was called upon by a gentleman, a Mr. James Young, who
presented a card of introduction from a barrister to whom I was well
known. His object was to obtain the assistance of a mechanician to
devise, or construct, a machine for setting up printing type. I had a
long and pleasant conversation with this most agreeable client; indeed,
our frequent meetings and friendly discussions resulted in a close
friendship, terminating only with his death, which occurred several
years later. My friend Young, who was a silk merchant at Lille, had
persuaded himself that by playing on keys, arranged somewhat after the
style of a pianoforte, all the letters required in a printed page could
be mechanically arranged in lines and columns more quickly than by
hand; but as he was personally wholly unacquainted with mechanism, he
desired someone to elaborate all the details of such a machine, and
asked me if I would professionally study the subject for him, and
prepare models to illustrate each proposition. The matter seemed a
very difficult one at first sight, and I said that it would be
impossible for me to devote more than a portion of each day to its
consideration. It was then arranged that I should give as much thought
to the subject as I could, consistent with due attention to my general
business, and to these terms was attached
a guinea per day as a consulting fee.
The general idea on which the machine was based was the arranging of
the respective letters in long narrow boxes, from which a touch of the
key referring to any particular letter would detach the type required;
this, when set at liberty, was to slide down an inclined
plane to a terminal point, where other mechanism was to divide the
letters so received, into lines if required, and thus build up a page
of matter, such as a column in a newspaper, etc.
It will be at once understood that this was not a very simple matter,
in consequence of the many signs required. We have first the twenty-six
small letters of the alphabet, and the double letters, such as fi, fl,
ff; ffi, ffl; then we have the points, or punctuations, signs of
reference, etc.; there are also the ten figures and the twenty-six
capital letters and their respective double letters, as well as blank
types, called "spaces," of different thicknesses, required to divide
separate words from each other, etc, Now, as a primary necessity, these
numerous letters, when wanted, must, of course, come from different
places, and all must descend grooves in the inclined planes in
precisely equal times. The time of the whole journey down the incline,
say, 2 ft. long, must not occupy any one type more that one-hundredth
of a second more or less than the one before or behind it, or its
arrival will be too soon or too late, and the word will be wrongly
spelt. Thus, suppose the word ACT is required, and the keys A, C, and
T, are touched rapidly in succession. If the letter C should arrive
first instead of A, the word would not be " ACT" but "CAT," and so for
every word. A type that is less than 1 in. in length must never, on its
journey, arrive its own length in advance or in the rear of the others
that are simultaneously rushing down the inclined plane to the same
terminus.
The difficulty that this fact presented was almost beyond belief. Many
models were made and much study devoted to it. Thus, suppose a type
detached at the point A in the accompanying diagram (Fig. 12) is
required to slide down the inclined plane to C, and another one from
the point B, is immediately to follow, it will be seen that not only is
the road to be travelled by A much longer than that by B, but B also
has the advantage of coming straight down the inclined surface,
encountering friction only on the one surface on which it rests; while
A has not only got a longer journey to perform, but it lays its whole
weight on the inclined surface, and rubs also against the inclined
side of its groove, thus causing additional friction, so lessening the
speed of its descent, and resulting in the arrival of B at its
destination before, instead of after, A.
The result of studying this part of the question forced on my mind the
important fact that the grooves on the surface of the inclined plane
would have to be all of precisely the same length, and every letter, in
descending, would have to encounter exactly the same amount of sideway
rubbing surface. This knotty point was at last settled in so simple and
perfect a manner, that when I had accomplished it I felt half ashamed
that it had so long eluded me. The form of grooved incline thus
indicated ensured a perfect spelling of every word, and removed the
greatest obstacle on the way to success.
The diagram, Fig. 13, represents a portion of the inclined plane, with
its small shallow grooves so arranged that any one of the letters a, b,
c, d, e, f, g, and h, at the top of the inclined plane would, if
allowed to slide down this series of curved grooves, pass along
precisely similar paths, and travel precisely equal distances, before
arriving at the terminus C.
It will be readily understood that a simple extension of this system
would allow any number of letters arranged along the upper line to
reach the terminus in the same time; hence each one would arrive in the
order of its departure and every word would be spelt correctly.
I will not tire the reader with the many other difficult points
surmounted, only by constant patience, during fifteen months. The
type-composing machine was then a success, and my friend Young was
greatly pleased at the result. His patent was much used in Paris, and
in England it was employed by the spirited proprietor of the Family
Herald, who gave an engraving of the machine at the head of the paper,
very similar to the illustration, Fig. 14, on page 45, which shows the
type-composing machine in operation. The person shown on the right is
seated before a double set of flat keys, similar to the keys of a
pianoforte, each key having its proper letter marked thereon; the
depression of a key detaches its corresponding type from one of the
numerous partitions in the box or case A; this type will then slide
down the series of grooves allotted to it on the inclined plane B, and
arrive at a point, C, where a rapidly vibrating finger or beater tips
up every letter as it arrives into an upright position, and forces it
along the channel D. These rows of letters are moved laterally, forming
one line of the intended page. The boy on the left hand divides the
words with a hyphen if necessary, or he so spaces them as to fill one
complete line; this operation he can complete while another line is
forming in the channel D. In this way he makes line after line until
part of a page is set up, when he moves on the galley E, shown at his
left hand. Thus a page or a long column of matter was produced with the
greatest ease, and in a very short space of time.
In the ordinary way of composing types, each letter is picked up by
hand from one of the numerous small divisions of a shallow box, or
"case," as it is called, and the letters are then arranged in their
right positions in a small frame held in the left hand of the
compositor. About 1700 or 1800 letters per hour can be formed into
lines and columns by a dexterous compositor, while as many as 6000
types per hour could be set by the composing machine. A young lady in
the office of the Family Herald undertook the following task at the
suggestion of the proprietor of The Times, viz.: she was to set up not
less than 5000 types per hour for ten consecutive hours, on six
consecutive days; giving a total of 300,000 letters in the week. This
she easily accomplished, and was then presented with a £5 note by Mr.
Walter.
This mode of composing types by playing on keys arranged precisely like
the keys of a pianoforte would have formed an excellent occupation for
women; but it did not find favour with the lords of creation, who
strongly objected to such successful competition by female labour, and
so the machine eventually died a natural death.
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