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CHAPTER V THE MANUFACTURE OF BRONZE POWDER

Early schemes for making Bronze powder -- First experiments -- Failure -- Microscopic Examination -- Fresh attempt -- The first success -- Preparations for the manufacture of Bronze Powder -- Designing Bronze Powder Machinery -- The erection of the Machinery -- Making Coloured Bronzes -- The Manufacture of Gold Paint -- Charlton House -- Introduction to Mr. Robert Longsdon -- A German Spy -- A Defense of the Patent Law

My eldest sister was a very clever painter in water colours, and in her early life, in the little village of Charlton, she had ample opportunities of indulging her taste for flower-painting. My father had lived too long in Holland not to have imbibed a love of the beautiful Dutch tulips, for which there was a great rage in his young days, so much so, indeed, that a single bulb would sometimes realise a fabulous price. At Charlton, my father grew his beloved tulips, and my sister used to paint all the finest specimens he produced. I also well remember the many beautifully-coloured chrysanthemums we there cultivated, although none of the magnificent varieties since introduced from Japan were then known. My sister had accumulated a great collection of charming groups of these and other flowers, and had, with much ingenuity made a most tastefully-decorated portfolio for their reception. She wished to have the words


STUDIES OF FLOWERS
FROM NATURE,
BY
MISS BESSEMER,

written in bold printing letters within a wreath of acorns and oak leaves which she had painted on the outside of the portfolio; as I was somewhat of an expert in writing ornamental characters, she asked me to do this for her, and handed me the portfolio to take home with me for that purpose.

How trivial and how very unimportant this incident must appear to my readers. It was, nevertheless, fraught with the most momentous consequences to me; in fact, it changed the whole current of my life, and rendered possible that still greater change which the iron and steel industry of the world has undergone, and with it the fortunes of hundreds of persons who have been directly, or indirectly, affected by it.

The portfolio was so prettily finished that I did not like to write the desired inscription in common ink; and as I had seen, on one occasion, some gold powder used by japanners, it struck me that this would be a very appropriate material for the lettering I had undertaken.

How distinctly I remember going to the shop of a Mr. Clark, a colourman in St. John Street, Clerkenwell, to purchase this "Gold Powder." He showed me samples of two colours, which I approved. The material was not called "gold," but "bronze" powder, and I ordered an ounce of each shade of colour, for which I was to call on the following day. I did so, and was greatly astonished to find that I had to pay seven shillings per ounce for it.

On my way home, I could not help asking myself, over and over again, "How can this simple metallic powder cost so much money?" for there cannot be gold enough in it, even at that price, to give it this beautiful rich colour. It is, probably, only a better sort of brass; and for brass in almost any conceivable form, seven shillings per ounce is a marvellous price."

I hurried home, and submitted a portion of both samples to the action of dilute sulphuric acid, and satisfied myself that no gold was present. I still remember with what impatience I watched the solution of the powder, and how forcibly I was struck with the immense advantage it offered as a manufacture, if skilled labour could be superseded by steam power. Here was powdered brass selling retail at £5 12s. per pound, while the raw material from which it was made cost probably no more than sixpence. "It must, surely," I thought, "be made slowly and laboriously, by some old-fashioned hand process; and if so, it offers a splendid opportunity for any mechanic who can devise a machine capable of producing it simply by power."

I adopted this view of the case with that eagerness for novel inventions which my surroundings had so strongly favoured, and I plunged headlong into this new and deeply interesting subject.

At first, I endeavoured to ascertain how the powder was then made, but no one could tell me. At last I found that it was made chiefly at Nuremberg, and its mode of manufacture was kept a profound secret. I hunted up many old books and encyclopaedias, and in one which I found at the British Museum, the powder was described as being made of various copper alloys beaten into thin leaves, after the manner of making gold leaf, in books of parchment and gold-beaters' skin. The delicate thin leaves so made were ground by hand labour to powder on a marble slab with a stone muller, and mixed with a thick solution of gum arabic to form a stiff paste and facilitate the grinding process. The gum so added was afterwards got rid of by successive washings in hot water.

It thus became evident to me that the great cost of bronze powder was due to this slow and most expensive mode of manufacture, and it was equally evident that if I could devise some means of producing it from a solid lump of brass, by steam power, the profits would be very considerable. With these convictions I at once set to work. I had at that time a two-horse power engine, partly made by myself, which I finished and erected in a small private room at the back of my own house, for there I could make my experiments in secret.

Then came the all-important question, from what point was I to attack the new problem? An attempt to imitate the old process by any sort of automatic mechanism seemed to present insurmountable obstacles -- the thousands of delicate skins to be manipulated, the fragile leaves of metal that would be carried away by the smallest current of air from a revolving drum or a strap in motion, and the large amount of power which must of necessity be employed to reduce the metal in whatever way it was treated. This necessity for delicate handling combined with great mechanical force, gave a direct negative to any hopes of producing the powder in a way analogous to the one in use.

How could I then proceed? A mass of solid brass did not appear to be a likely thing to fall to powder under treatment by a pestle and mortar. Then came the question: Can the metal be rendered brittle, and so facilitate its reduction? No, it cannot be made brittle except by alloying it with such other metals as will destroy its beautiful gold colour. Then there was the question of solution of the metal in acid, and its precipitation in the form of powder. These and many other plans were thought of, only to be again put aside as theoretically improbable or impracticable schemes.

The first idea which presented itself to my mind as a possible mode of reducing a piece of hard, tough brass to extremely minute, brilliant particles, was based on the principles of the common turning lathe, with which I made my first attempt on a circular disc of brass, one-quarter of an inch in thickness, and four inches in diameter. This was mounted on a suitable mandril, and made to revolve at a speed of 200 revolutions per minute. The revolving brass disc was tightly pressed between two small steel rollers, having fine but very sharp diagonal grooves formed on their surfaces, sloping to the left on one of them and to the right on the other; the effect of this was to impress diagonal lines crossing each other on the periphery of the brass disc, and to form on it a series of minute squares. If the reader examines the milled edge of a sovereign, he will see just such indented lines running across its periphery, but in the experiment described the lines impressed on the brass disc were V-shaped. A flat-faced turning tool mounted on a slide-rest was slowly advanced in the direction of the disc, so as to shave off an extremely thin film of metal from the apex of every one of the truncated pyramids formed on the periphery of the disc. The actual size of the base of each of these pyramids is shown in Fig. 16, where a surface of 1 in. square is divided into a hundred lines to the inch, and is crossed at right angles by another series of lines of similar pitch, forming, of course, 10,000 small squares, which represent the base of each pyramid; hence it will be seen that if the small square upper surface of each pyramid is one-half the width of its base, its area will be one-fourth that of the base, or only one 40,000th of a square inch, and this will be the uniform shape and size of each particle of the powder so produced.

Fig 16. diagram showing base of pyramids for bronze powder.

Thus, if the area of the periphery of the disc is equal to four square inches, and is revolving at the very moderate speed of 200 revolutions per minute, we shall have 40,000 by 200, or just 8,000,000 small particles of brass cut off per minute, every one of exactly the same form and size, the continued pressure of the steel rollers renewing the depth of the grooves as fast as the cutter pares them down.

From this it will be obvious that in a machine closely resembling a lathe, discs of much larger diameter and much thicker than my small 4-in. experimental disc, could be employed; and, further, that ten or a dozen such discs could be put at a small distance apart on the same mandril. Thus, large quantities of solid brass could, in a short space of time, be made into powder by this simple device. It will also be understood that the cutting tool could be advanced so slowly by a fine screw properly geared, that a mere film of brass would be taken off the summit of each pyramid, and so very fine powder would be produced.

Such then was the theory on which I relied in my first attempt to produce a bronze powder direct from solid brass. My experimental apparatus was made very accurately in all its working parts, and it was with much anxiety that I awaited the time necessary to get the first results of this novel scheme, which I may say at once were very unsatisfactory. It is true that the machine worked admirably, and minute particles of brass were produced and thrown up like a little fountain of yellow dust as the disc spun round; but, alas! neither to the touch nor to the eye did it resemble the bronze powder of commerce. I was, I may freely own, deeply disappointed at this failure, because the promise was so large. The direct production of powder, worth sixty shillings to eighty shillings per pound wholesale, from brass plates costing only nine-pence per pound, was, to use a common phrase, "too good to be true," and so I found it; and I well remember that at the time it required all my philosophy to persuade myself that I must look forward to such disappointments as the natural result of trying so many novel schemes. It was not the first castle I had built, only to see it topple over. Fortunately, my sanguine temperament soon enabled me to forget this failure, and to again quietly pursue my usual avocations.

About a year after the incidents I have just related, I happened to be talking to the elder Mr. De La Rue, when he mentioned to me a matter in which he was at that moment greatly interested; indeed, I may say, he was very justly irritated with a merchant who sold him arrowroot largely adulterated with potato starch, which had spoiled a considerable amount of valuable work for which the pure starch of arrowroot was required. He had, he said, just found out a mode by which he could accurately ascertain the percentage of potato starch present; he added that chemically these substances were so much alike in their constituents that he could not rely on simple analysis as a proof of fraud. He told me that by putting, say 100 granules of the adulterated starch, in the form of powder, under the microscope, he could see that there were present granules of two distinct shapes. The genuine arrowroot consisted of oval granules, while the potato-starch granules were perfectly spherical; and by simply counting the number of each shape in any given quantity he could ascertain beyond question the percentage of adulteration.

I was a good deal struck by this ingenious mode of detecting adulteration; and a few days later, when thinking it over, it occurred to me that possibly the microscope might throw some light on the cause of the failure of my then almost forgotten attempts to produce bronze powder. I submitted some of the brass powder I had made, and some of the ordinary bronze powder of commerce, to microscopic examination, and saw in a moment the cause of my failure. The ordinary bronze powder is, as before mentioned, made from an exceedingly thin leaf of beaten metal, resembling an ordinary leaf of gold. Now, such a thin flake, rubbed or torn to fragments, will, on a smaller scale, resemble a sheet of paper torn into minute pieces; and if such fragments of paper were allowed to fall on a varnished or adhesive surface, they would not stand up on edge, but would lie flat down, and when pressed open would represent a continuous surface of white paper. So it was with the bronze powder of commerce; when applied to an adhesive surface, the small flat fragments of leaf (for such they are) present a continuous bright surface, and reflect light as from a polished metal plane. But the particles of metal made from my machine, minute as they were, presented a perfectly different appearance, and under a high magnifying power they were found to be little curled-up pieces, one side being bright and the other rough and corrugated, and destitute of any brilliancy; while on being applied to an adhesive surface they arranged themselves, without order, like grains of sand or other amorphous bodies, and reflected scarcely any light to the eye. The reason of my failure was thus rendered perfectly obvious.

This critical examination, and the evidence it afforded me of what was really necessary to constitute bronze powder, began to excite my imagination; for to make a pound of brass in an hour, by machinery, equal in value to an ounce of gold, was too seductive a problem to be easily relinquished. Again the idea and the hope of its realisation took possession of me. "Was this to be, after all," I asked myself, "the one great success I had so long hoped for, which was to wipe away all my other pursuits in life, and land me in the lap of luxury, if not of absolute wealth?"

I studied the whole question over and over again, from every point of view, and week after week I became more and more certain that I was on the right track. At length I came to an absolute decision. "Yes," I said, "I will throw myself into it again."

I then went systematically to work, and drew out the detailed plans for the different machines that were necessary to test my idea thoroughly. I purchased a four horse-power steam engine, and erected it in close connection with my dwelling-house. I made part of the machinery in my own workshops, and personally erected the whole of it in a room into which no one was ever allowed to enter but myself. At last, after months of labour, the great day of trial once more arrived, and I had to submit the raw material to the inexorable test. I watched the operations with a beating heart, and saw the iron monster do its appointed work, not to perfection, but so far well as to constitute an actual commercial success. I felt that on the result of that hour's trial hung the whole of my future life's history, and so it did, as the sequel will clearly show.

I now became most anxious to have my views confirmed by some of the importers of German bronze. With this object, I tried for a week or so to improve the working of the machinery, and then produced a very fair sample of my new material, which I put into the small ounce packages common in the trade, and with it called on a Jewish importer.

This worthy individual looked critically at my samples, and when I requested him to purchase some he was very curious, asking me many fishing questions, for his practised eye had at once shown him that the powder differed slightly in appearance from the usual make of bronze. He, however, made a distinct offer of twenty shillings per pound for all I could manufacture.

Such an offer from a Jewish importer of bronze convinced me at once that the sample I had shown him was worth much more than the price he had named; and this view was still further confirmed by a long conversation, which terminated in an offer to give me £500 per annum for the sole use of the machinery I had invented. This proposal I could not for a moment entertain, for I could no longer doubt that my new mode of producing bronze powder was destined to be a great commercial success.

As I have already explained, I had become intimately acquainted with Mr. Young, the inventor of the type-composing machine. I told him all that I had achieved, and showed him some of the powder I had produced. He was of opinion that I ought to build a large works, and make bronze powder for "all the world." Then arose the question of capital, and this he proposed to supply, and to share with me the profits of the venture, an offer which I eventually accepted; but we had several knotty points to settle before a single step could be taken. Up to this juncture the details of my invention and the nature of the several machines used in the process were an absolute secret, and I feared to patent these inventions: firstly, because they might be modified or improved by others, but chiefly because secret machinery could be erected abroad, and the article smuggled into this country without fear of detection, because powder cannot be identified as having been made by any special machinery. Thus, a patent would have afforded no protection whatever to me. Then came the difficult question of continued secrecy; there were powerful machines of many tons in weight to be made; some of them were necessarily very complicated, and somebody must know for whom they were. Also the people who tended the machine must know all about it; and I had still to find out how all the various alloys were made, and the way in which such varied colours as the trade required were produced. The result of a review of all these difficulties was this:

Firstly, we both agreed that if brass were still to be sold at a higher price than silver, it would be impossible for us to maintain this price if all the details of my system were shown and described in a patent blue-book, which anyone could buy for six pence. This fact absolutely decided me not to patent the invention.

Secondly, how could we trust workpeople who could have a thousand pounds or so given them at any time for an hour or two's talk with a rival manufacturer? This difficulty we proposed to meet by engaging, at high salaries, my wife's three young brothers, on whom we felt we could entirely rely; so this point was satisfactorily arranged.*[1]

Thirdly, how about making these massive machines? What engineers could we trust? -- for any engineer must have such work done in his workshops open to the eyes of all his men.

Fortunately, here I was enabled to step in. I could undertake personally to make, not only all the general plans, but also each of the working drawings, to a large scale, for each of the machines required; and when I had thus devised and settled every machine as a whole, I undertook to dissect it and make separate drawings of each part, accurately figured for dimensions, and to take these separate parts of the several machines and get them made: some in Manchester, some in Glasgow, some in Liverpool, and some in London, so that no engineer could ever guess what these parts of machines were intended to be used for. Of course, I was able to undertake the proper fitting together of all these detached parts after they had arrived in London.

All this was plain sailing, but it imposed on me one great difficulty. I proposed to do the work of seventy or eighty men, and I wanted this carried out by my three relatives without much labour or trouble to any of them. It simply meant this: I must design each class of machine to be what is called a "self-acting machine"; that is, a machine that could take care of itself; and when a certain quantity of raw material had been put in place it must deal with it without a skilled attendant, do its appointed work with unerring certainty, and throw itself out of gear when its task was accomplished, to prevent injury to itself. This I also took upon myself to do, notwithstanding that one of the most powerful machines in the series would sometimes stop the career of a 20 horse-power engine, and pull it up dead, while others were performing noiselessly the most delicate operations conceivable.

Fourthly, there came the question of making the various alloys necessary to give, by oxidation, the almost endless variety of tints required in the trade. I had previously done a great deal in making alloys of copper, tin, bismuth, and other metals, and this matter we both agreed to leave for future development. My friend Young, who had acquired great confidence in my inventive faculties, remarked, "Oh, you will be certain to do it when the time comes." Relying thus with implicit faith on me, he agreed to enter into this new manufacture.

It was, indeed, no light matter, and I felt the great responsibility I was assuming. It is true I had been successful on a small scale in overcoming one of the main difficulties in the new process, but there was still much to invent, and much that at that period I necessarily knew nothing about. There were, in fact, the hundred-and-one little secrets of the trade which the ingenuity of many men and long practice had built up and accumulated around the ancient art of bronze-powder making. All of these were still kept absolutely secret by the German manufacturers, whom I proposed to rival and beat in the open markets of the world by a series of processes, absolutely new, and bearing not the faintest resemblance to any of the methods then in use. In my process, the power of steam, acting through delicate and complicated mechanism, was intended to replace the skill and well-trained muscular efforts and intelligent manipulation of the practised workman, and to imitate in every detail the ordinary commercial article. Self-reliance, and the power of readily discriminating between the first crude and imperfectly formed ideas that strike the mind, in contradistinction to the well considered theory on which any novel scheme really rests, allowed me deliberately, and with full confidence, to enter on this new undertaking, even though it entailed, to a large extent, the sacrifice of a small but increasing business that had been laboriously built up during several years of close application to it.

If not with a light heart, at least with a stolid and unflinching resolution, I applied myself to the task thus deliberately self-imposed. Firstly, I had to reconsider all my rough plans; I had to arrange every detail of the six different classes of machines necessary to prepare, to manufacture, and to polish and colour the bronze; all had to be made automatic and self-controlling; and when all these details had been arranged from hand sketches and figured dimensions, the labour of making the different working drawings of each machine to an accurate scale, was begun. I had, of course, to make all the necessary calculations of the strength requisite in the parts subjected to strain; of the best speed of working each machine so as to secure the highest results; then the size and proportions of each of the six machines had to be estimated, so that each one could do its part in the day's production, neither lagging behind nor doing too much. This furnished me with laborious work at the drawing-board for several months; and when all was done, each of the machines had to be dissected, and I had to commence making complete -- nay, even elaborate-drawings, in detail, of every different piece required in in each of these varied machines, and to so divide the work between several engineers resident in different towns, that each had certain shaped pieces to make which he supposed were individual parts of one machine, whereas they were separate sections of several different machines, all drawn to the same scale, and sometimes represented on the same sheet of drawings. Elaborate specifications were thus rendered necessary, because neither master nor workman could use his judgment, as he would have done in the execution of any machine for a known and well understood purpose, the full details of which are usually embodied in a complete drawing of the whole.

After much personal labour and study, this part of the undertaking was accomplished, and the making of all the machines was commenced. Meanwhile, I sought for quiet, unobtrusive premises, with sufficient land to build a factory and engine-house, and on which there was also a dwelling-house for myself and family: for such premises must not be left unguarded either by day or night. In the quiet suburb of St. Pancras I found just what I wanted, viz., an old-fashioned, unostentatious, but comfortable house, lying some distance back from the high road, and having a large garden in the rear. Such was old "Baxter House," the scene of so many experiments, and the birthplace of several entirely new manufactures.

The ground for the factory having been chosen, and a long lease of the premises obtained, I had next to plan the necessary buildings. One or two cardinal points were first determined. A substantial wall was to separate the engine and boiler-house from the factory proper, into which the engine-driver could have no access or connection whatever, except in so far that the shafting from the 20 horse-power engine passed through a stuffing-box in the wall of separation. Access to the engine-house and coal-store was confined to a back entrance leading into another street.

The factory proper was to have but one external door, opening into a large hall, from which all the other rooms were separated by locked doors; there were no windows, except to this one outer room, all light being obtained by means of double skylights, through which no one could look; and these were further secured by impregnable inside sliding shutters. Adjoining the entrance-hall was a washing and dressing-room, as a change of clothes on going in and coming out was imperative.

Then came other important provisions rendered necessary by the fact that the machinery was massive and very heavy, and no labourers or other workmen could be admitted to assist in putting it together and erecting it in its destined place. Concrete foundations and iron bed-plates had been put in wherever necessary, with bolts inserted therein corresponding with bolt-holes in the machine framing then being made. Heavy beams were fixed on the walls crossing over the several places where the weighty machines were to be erected, each beam having stout eye-bolts inserted in it for the purpose of attaching a block-and-tackle for hoisting. In order to facilitate the erection of all this machinery by myself and my three unpractised assistants, I had so divided the large frame castings that no single piece would weigh over ten or fifteen hundredweight.

All the smaller shafts and driving-drums were put in place, the gas and water laid on, and Chubb's safety-locks were affixed to every door before any of the machinery had arrived. The last workman had already departed, and silence reigned supreme in the empty building, into which, from that day forward, for probably twenty years, only five persons ever passed. In such a case secrecy must be absolute to be effective, and although mere vague curiosity induced many persons of my intimate acquaintance to ask to be allowed to just go in and have a peep, I never admitted anyone. Even my own sons were rigidly excluded until they were grown up. When mere lads, if they teased me to let them in, I would sometimes say, "No, you will find much more amusement at the theatres, and to-night you may go if you wish." I need scarcely say that this was greatly preferred.

Meanwhile, two steam engines and all other requisite appliances had been erected in the engine-house, where the heavy gearing was also located; this communicated with the factory proper by two lines of 7-in. diameter shafting, which passed through the party wall.

A new phase in the undertaking was soon in active progress. From day to day, at odd times, one of Pickford's vans would bring detached portions of the machinery, carefully packed in large wooden cases, which were delivered into the entrance of the factory by ordinary labourers, and there left to be further dealt with by ourselves alone.

The work, as a whole, had been admirably executed, and we succeeded in putting together the several parts sooner than I expected. It was with no small degree of satisfaction that we found this laborious part of the undertaking completed, and the machines ready for work.

But with the cessation of bodily labour, I entered on a period of deep and almost painful anxiety, for I felt that my position in life for many years to come was at that moment about to be determined. A few days would show if all these elaborate contrivances were based on sound mechanical principles, and whether the mass of novel machinery, occupying several large rooms, would perform its allotted task and carry forward, step by step, the successive changes necessary to convert in a single day a hundred weight of solid brass into countless millions of shining, delicate particles known as bronze powder; or whether, on the contrary, several thousand pounds, a year's increasing mental strain, and much laborious physical exertion, had been cast away and thrown to the winds, leaving nothing behind but professional discredit, crushed hopes, and the inevitable regret that waits on failure of every kind.

I had, indeed, much reason for anxiety, for this was no simple test of a modification of an old and well-known machine, but the trial of a whole series of absolutely new mechanical inventions, each performing entirely new processes, following on and dependent on each other, all of which must succeed or the whole would prove a failure. But I may truly say that my hopes of success and my confidence in the whole scheme had never been shaken, although a full appreciation of the importance of the issue about to be tried necessarily caused me to feel anxious and excited. While standing alone in the silent factory, face to face with the giant whom, like Frankenstein, I had created, cold and motionless in all its grim reality, I knew that on the morrow I should, as it were, breathe into its nostrils the breath of life, by simply turning on the steam, when all those varied combinations of mechanism would be instinct with motion, and essay the task of superseding human labour and intelligence in the production of a material which, for hundreds of years, both in China and Japan, as well as in Germany, had been wholly dependent on human skill and intellect for its marvellous delicacy and beauty.

Well, the time of trial came at last, and one by one the different machines were tested. There were little hitches here and there, which took some time to rectify, but gradually each machine was got to work, and before the close of that eventful day absolute proof had been obtained of the soundness and success of the whole scheme. It was an immense relief from the severe mental strain of the few previous days, such as those only can feel who have lived on hope for more than a whole year, with a full knowledge that the time was approaching, day by day, when all their cherished expectations were to be realised or utterly destroyed.

The next thing of importance to the successful working of all this machinery was to keep inviolate the secret of its character and mode of action. Each different machine worked by itself in a room, the door of which was secured by a Chubb's detector lock; and, in addition to this precaution, each machine was itself concealed in a complete case, or covering, so that, without breaking open this case, no one could see or understand either its internal structure or its mode of operation.

It has often been remarked that the unforeseen is always sure to happen, and thus it was in reference to the intense and ceaseless noise in No.2 Room, where thirty pieces of solid brass were being simultaneously operated upon at a very high speed, each piece throwing off from its respective surface some 2000 or 3000 fine needle-like filaments per minute. These fell in a continuous shower, and became so felted and interlaced that it was not safe to attempt to lift any portion of the accumulated mass by the naked hand, for with the slightest pressure the hand was pierced, and dozens of these fine pieces, three-eighths of an inch in length, entered the skin, and were found sticking to the fingers in every direction, like the spines on a prickly pear, or the thorns on the stem of a rose. These needle-like pieces owed their form to the intense vibration of the machine, and each one of the millions of filaments, as it was forcibly severed from the parent mass, uttered its shrill protest, and helped to swell the fearful chorus. Let those who have, happily, never heard this machine in motion, imagine the screech of a hundred discordant fiddles, accompanied by the piercing screams of as many locomotives, all bottled up in a small room, their shrill sounds echoing and reverberating from wall to wall and from floor to ceiling, until the very atmosphere seemed thick with the ceaseless roar, and the human voice at its highest pitch was wholly lost and inaudible. This was a result I might reasonably have anticipated, knowing, as I did, what the machine had to do, but in reality it never crossed my mind. Double doors covered with baize were found necessary to deaden the sound, and prevent its penetrating into the main building, while the machine itself was doomed thenceforward to work in absolute solitude.

These little filaments of brass were mechanically fed in succession into two differently constructed self-acting laminating machines consisting of highly-polished chilled-iron rolls, 12 in. in diameter and 18 in. in length, the brasses on the axes of which were pressed upon by massive spiral springs, each of which required a force of three tons to compress it half an inch. This stream of filaments was conducted between the rolls matted and felted together in inextricable confusion, and in this state they had a strong tendency to unite and so weld themselves together under pressure as to issue from the rolls with a smooth, continuous surface, resembling an ordinary sheet of solid brass. This would soon have become too compact to separate and break up again, but the tendency to unite was entirely overcome by putting about three drops of olive oil to each pound of filaments, thus not only preventing too strong an adhesion from taking place, but allowing all contiguous surfaces to slide over each other, and become more or less polished. The continuous passing and repassing through the rolls thus extended the surfaces of the filaments, and made them gradually thinner and thinner, until the whole charge under operation became soft and pliable, and was finally reduced to a leafy, flaky powder of varying degrees of fineness, the largest particles passing freely through a wire-gauze sieve having 10,000 meshes to the square inch, so that no sifting operations could possibly divide them into the ten different standard degrees of fineness required by the trade.

The crude powder, after passing through each of these two laminating machines, was polished in an apparatus, into which it was perpetually poured from a height of five or six feet, thus falling heavily on to a quantity of bronze which occupied the lower part of the receiver, but which in its turn was also lifted up and allowed to fall many thousands of times. When falling in large quantities this stream of metallic powder behaved very much like a heavy fluid, falling with considerable force, and rebounding in powerful jets; and thus by the friction of its own particles rushing among each other, their surfaces became highly polished and much smoother to the touch.

The material so far manufactured was then taken to the sorting-room, where its separation into different grades of fineness was effected.

What a remarkable contrast this room presented to the noisy cutting-room, for in this there was not a sound to attract the ear or to disturb the thoughts! Quietly and noiselessly the separation took place; just as the snowflakes silently fall and by a gentle breeze arrange themselves in a beautifully-formed snow-drift, so this apparatus did its appointed work, separating microscopic particles, inconceivably minute, from those next them in size, and so on to the coarsest powder, which was only used for inferior kinds of work.

As this mode of separating powder into various grades may be useful for many other purposes, I will here give such a description of it in detail as will make its action readily understood.

The arrangement consisted of a table about 40 ft. in length and about 2 ft. 6 in. in width, covered with black varnished cloth, on which the powder was slowly deposited; a long mahogany box, or tunnel, was inverted over the table, but was capable of being partially lifted on hinges at one side, thus giving access for the removal of the powder. At one end of the table a sheet-iron drum, or churn, was supported on hollow axes or trunnions, both of which were left open. The interior of the drum was provided with inclined shelves. Rotatory motion was given to the drum by a belt passing round it; the effect of this slow rotation of the drum was to lift the powder, and allow it again to fall in a thinly-divided shower on those shelves which occupied the lower part of the drum. A gentle current of air was caused to enter the outer end of the drum's axis, and, passing through the falling shower of powder, it emerged through the opposite axis, and quietly flowed along the tunnel already mentioned, carrying with it an almost imperceptible cloud of fine particles, which were slowly and gradually deposited upon the varnished cloth covering of the table. The largest and heaviest deposited themselves quite near the entrance of the tunnel, and others of smaller size fell farther away, the very finest reaching the distant end of the tunnel, where there was a raised box, or cupboard, in which were two cylindrical bags made of very closely-woven silk, their lower ends open to the tunnel and their upper ends closed. A blowing fan of ordinary construction was used to exhaust air from the cupboard, causing the silk bags to become inflated, and the air in the interior of the tunnel to pass through them; this was effected so gently through some 50 square-feet surface of silk as to detain in the interior any minute particles of bronze which had not fallen on to the table, while a very light current of air was steadily maintained, the force of which was accurately controlled by a large and very lightly-balanced valve in connection with the cupboard.

It is difficult to imagine the beauty of this golden snowdrift of 40 ft. in length, varying at every foot in appearance, and ranging from pieces too coarse for use, and which required further lamination, to the extremely minute particles arrested by the silk surfaces, and which, between the fingers, felt like the dust of pure plumbago, or some other wonderfully smooth lubricant. The contents of these silk bags were called No. 2000, and have been sold as high as one hundred shillings per pound. Pure copper powder so produced was supplied by me for many years to Messrs. Elkington, of Birmingham, for metallising the surfaces of elastic non-metallic moulds employed by them in the production of works of art by the electro-deposition of metals.

Thus far I have described the manufacture of raw uncoloured bronze, in which state it was used for many of the paler shades. But an almost endless variety of different colours may be produced by varying degrees of oxidation, the colour being in part dependent on the nature and quantity of the other metals with which copper is alloyed, and in part on the length of time and on the degree of temperature to which the powder is exposed, while in a heated state, to the action of the air.

One of the great difficulties in producing a beautiful uniform tint in bronze arises from the fact that almost all tints, more or less perfect, can be obtained by varying degrees of oxidation, even of pure copper; a slight oxidation gives it a pale red-gold colour, which soon becomes richer and more golden, and passes on to citron, orange, and, in a short time, to crimson, from which it changes rapidly into claret, purple, green, pale-green, green-gold, and then still paler, until it is almost white; it then passes again to gold, and through all the series of colours, but less perfect than the first time. Now, it will be readily understood that every one of the countless millions of particles in 20lb. of bronze powder should, as far as possible, receive precisely the same temperature for the same length of time, and be equally exposed to the current of air: then a beautiful uniform tint of colour will necessarily result. But if some parts of the mass are made hotter than others, or are longer exposed to heat or to a more perfect current of air, the powder may consist of a mixture of almost every imaginable shade of colour, be really of no standard colour at all, and thus be rendered worthless.

This delicate colouring operation was performed with unerring certainty in a gun-metal revolving vessel, mounted on trunnions, somewhat similar to a steel converter, for the purpose of discharging its contents rapidly at the right moment; this vessel was heated by an easily-controllable Bunsen burner of large size, and was provided with a means of taking out a small sample every minute for examination without interrupting its action. This important and most delicate and difficult operation was thus performed mechanically, and the device was, perhaps, one of the most perfect machines it has ever been my good fortune to design.

Still there was one more tedious task to perform. I had to justify the faith of my friend Young that "when the time comes you will be sure to find out all the proper alloys." One of a range of small buildings at Baxter House was fitted up for this purpose with a powerful air-furnace, for actual commercial working; and a smaller one for the necessary series of experiments in the production of alloys that would, when oxidised, produce the desired colours, but that must, nevertheless, be tough and ductile. There was already known to metallurgists a series of copper alloys passing under different names, and more or less resembling gold in colour; thus we had "Pinchbeck," "Mannheim Gold," "Red Tomback," "Dutch Pan Metal," "Mosaic Gold," etc., the nature of all of which had to be investigated. Then came the question of the best source of pure copper as the base of all the alloys to be made. I tried best English copper, red Japan copper, and Russian charcoal copper, made into coin. I may say that I have, since then, melted scores of barrels of Russian kopeks, on account of their purity. Dutch pan metal is, as the admirers of some of our old Dutch paintings may easily imagine, a beautiful gold-coloured brass, which I have used extensively, and which owes its beauty to its purity and mode of production. One of the ores of zinc, "Lapis Calaminares," is put into the lower part of a large crucible; small fragments of broken crucibles are laid upon it, and on this is placed granulated or shot copper (produced by pouring molten copper into water); the crucible is then covered over, the zinc contained in the ore is volatilised by heat, and, passing up through the stratum of broken pieces of crucible, is absorbed by the copper, which becomes a beautiful gold-coloured brass. Those impurities in the zinc ore which are not volatile remain at the bottom, and do not contaminate the gold-coloured alloy, which is afterwards melted in another crucible.

The production of a new tint of colour was the aim of the trade, and, with this view, a whole series of alloys were made with copper as the base. Alloys with bismuth, nickel, tungsten, molybdenum, tin, cadmium, and silver, were tried, the latter in the proportion of three of silver to seven of copper; this made a most beautiful cream-coloured bronze in its natural state, and a brilliant peacock purple when fully oxidised.

One of the most successful novelties was a margarate of copper, obtained by using animal fat in the oxidising process, producing margarate acid, and making a superb green: large quantities of this bronze found a ready sale amongst French clockmakers in Paris.

Some of the rare metals referred to were extremely difficult to reduce from their ores or oxides; but as they were not wanted in a pure state, but merely for the purpose of alloying, I found it much easier to reduce their refractory oxides with oxides of copper. In this way the oxide of molybdenum was easily reduced in combination with oxide of copper intimately blended with a black flux, consisting simply of resin in a melted state mixed with charcoal powder. The mineral wolfram readily yielded an alloy when mixed with fine granulated copper, or with copper oxide, but alone it proved very refractory.

I was quite unable to make any white metal alloy hard enough to be made into powder by my machinery. All the soft tin alloys welded by pressure into a perfectly indivisible mass, whilst the harder alloys, such as German silver, Chinese tuteneg, and other nickel compounds, were not white enough to take the place of the so-called "silver powder" produced in the old mode of manufacture by the further beating of thin tin foil. I was much annoyed at being unable to execute orders for "silver bronze," and had to make an exchange with the German importers, giving them gold bronze for their cheaper white powder. This changing "old lamps for new ones" annoyed me very much; but knowing that brass pins are whitened by a film of tin deposited on them by boiling them in a bath of tartaric acid and tin shavings, I determined to try if this system could be employed to whiten the brass powder, which we could make so easily and cheaply. There were two great obstacles in the way which threatened to render the scheme impossible, viz., the probability that these minute particles of brass would, in the act of being coated with tin, become united and stick together, and also that the tin deposit, being naturally dull, like "frosted silver," would fail in being sufficiently bright.

However, after due consideration, I planned a machine which I had reason to hope would overcome both these difficulties; it consisted of a brass churn with a steam-jacket, so as to enable it to boil any water contained in its interior. Into this churn was put a strong solution of carbonate of soda -- not tartaric acid as usual; about 20 lb. of bright brass powder was then put in, to which was added 12 lb. of small spherical shot, formed of pure tin by pouring molten tin into oil. The churn was then put in action, so that the tin shot not only provided the necessary metal for solution, but by their continuous motion, as the chum revolved, counteracted any tendency of the bronze particles to become matted together by the deposited tin; while the friction of all these rubbing surfaces in constant motion entirely prevented the dull "frosted" deposit from taking place, but on the contrary gave a beautiful polished surface to the bronze. This process was a great success, and white bronze so produced was freely purchased by the trade.

This apparatus suggested the deposition of real gold on the surface of the bronze. Some few costly experiments were made with this object, but were not successful. Probably at some future time a method of carrying out this idea may be discovered, and a large and profitable trade secured to the fortunate inventor.

While all these investigations were going on, I had taken offices in London Wall, and commenced the actual sale of bronze to the trade; a traveller was engaged, and he sent in his first small order for two pounds of pale-gold bronze for the Coalbrookdale Iron Company at eighty shillings per pound net.

The new bronze caused quite a stir in the trade. The locality of its origin and its mode of manufacture were kept a profound secret. Many consumers gladly purchased it on the favourable terms offered; while others could under no circumstances whatever be prevailed upon to give it a trial, even long after our trade was well established. As an example, I may mention one case in which my traveller made many unsuccessful attempts to do business with a very large consumer of bronze in the City, who used it in the manufacture of paper-hangings, and who said that he obtained his bronze from a descendant of Baron Scheller, an old German, who happened to be a large customer of ours, and who, for more than two years, had purchased a particular quality of our bronze, which we afterwards found that he supplied to this manufacturer at twenty shillings per pound above the price we charged to him. The old German died rather suddenly, and the paper manufacturer was informed that for years he had been using our bronze, improved (in price only) by passing through the old German's hands; he looked very crestfallen at the discovery, but kept on using the same quality, which, he told my traveller, no one in the trade but Scheller could equal.

The sharp competition with the German importers was going on pretty fiercely, when one day I was asked to receive a deputation from the trade, who came to expostulate with me for "spoiling the business, and ruining the trade and myself at the same time."

I told them that they were labouring under a great mistake: that if I could maintain existing prices, it would make my fortune. They asked in all seriousness, "Can you really sell bronze at your present price without absolute loss?" I replied that I could do so, and that if they chose to deal with me, and supply my article to the consumer instead of importing it, I would allow them a discount of 25 per cent. on present prices; that I would withdraw my traveller; and in future supply no consumer below their retail prices. They took time to confer with their brethren, and finally accepted my terms, and from that time I became exclusively a wholesale manufacturer.

I was anxious to find new outlets for the bronze, and saw clearly that if I could use it as a "paint," it would answer for a great variety of purposes where a loose powder could not be applied; for instance, it could be used for gilding the raised stucco patterns on the ceilings of rooms, for temporary theatrical decorations, etc.; but quick-drying turpentine varnishes all destroyed the bronze, and turned it black. After much trouble and study of the subject, I found that the succinic acid in spirits of turpentine, and some other acids found in resinous gums and in burnt oil, could be neutralised by mixing the varnish with dry lime, and I devised a novel system of filtration, whereby all the lime, after neutralising the acid, was perfectly removed. Thus, my new "gold paint" was brought out, and those who knew how to use it, and what substances it could be successfully used upon, were delighted with it; while the attempts of others were a complete fiasco, and it was by them condemned as a failure, notwithstanding which as many as 80,000 bottles of it have been sold in the course of a year. Among its various uses, a very odd one was due to the 'cuteness of a Birmingham manufacturer of "coffin furniture." Instead of stamping in brass the variety of ornaments used on the sides of coffins, he stamped them in the cheaper metal zinc, and made them beautiful with gold paint; they lasted much longer than was necessary for the purpose, and only turned black after some time.

On one occasion, when giving an order for varnish at the factory of Messrs. Hayward and Sons, they asked if I would like to go through the works; and as I always take an interest in any manufacture that I am unacquainted with, I accepted their kind offer, and passed a very interesting hour or two. Everything was shown to me and lucidly explained; but there was one thing which seemed to stand out from all the rest, which, I thought, was a wasteful and unnecessary source of expense, and so I expressed myself to Mr. Hayward at the time. It is only another of the many proofs I have had of the very different impressions which the same facts make on differently constituted minds; here was an important fact, presented to me for the first time, but which my friend Mr. Hayward, during forty years of practical experience, had had every day before him, but had never seen, at least from my point of view. I said to him: "Why do you not do so-and-so, and save this great cost?" He was much struck with the idea; and when we returned to the offices to partake of a biscuit and a glass of sherry, I said: "If you will give me a sheet of paper, I will draw you a sketch of a simple apparatus which, I doubt not, will have the effect I have described." I made the sketch, which my friend received in a very kindly spirit, albeit with a full share of doubt as to the possibility of its effecting so great a desideratum by such simple means. His son, Mr. Sharp Hayward, whose more recent chemical studies gave him an advantage in forming an opinion, unbiassed by long routine practice, said: "I will see this tried as soon as possible"; and so the matter passed, and was soon quite forgotten by me. Some two or three months later, however, when I was sitting at breakfast at Baxter House, I saw a horse and cart stop at my front garden gate, and the driver bring a letter up to the door. It was from my friend the varnish manufacturer; he told me briefly that they had tried the method I suggested to him on the occasion of my visit to his works; it was, he said, a perfect success, and that I should greatly add to the obligation conferred if, in speaking of the circumstance at any future time, I omitted to mention the nature of the improvement I had suggested. The letter went on to say that one of his sons was a wine-grower in Madeira, and, having had a splendid vintage, he had sent his father a pipe of Madeiras a present; "and," said my friend Mr. Hayward, "it at once struck me that it was a fortunate opportunity, accidentally placed in my way, of acknowledging my indebtedness to you; will you, therefore, oblige me by accepting it as a souvenir of your visit to our varnish manufactory, which has been of so much advantage to me." Of course, I accepted with great pleasure this most welcome gift. I had the wine bottled, and in due time it turned out to be of excellent quality, and I may safely say that I have never drank of wine which gave me so much pleasure as this did; it was treasured up, and always reserved for special occasions, and I believe that at this time of writing there are still some few bottles remaining, safely stowed away in my cellar. I shall have occasion to refer again to this incident later on.

The bronze business was now progressing most satisfactorily. I had given up many of my former employments, and felt that I might indulge in some luxuries from which I had hitherto carefully abstained. I thought that a brougham would be very useful to me, and, at the same time, a source of much convenience and pleasure to my wife and children; but I had no suitable place for it at Baxter House. I imagined that I needed a meadow for a horse, but it is most probable that it was really for myself that I felt the need of "pastures new"; for the instinct of the village boy was evidently in the ascendant, and I sighed for the large kitchen garden, and the poultry-yard, and other rural delights, the very thoughts of which had long slumbered and been forgotten.

The result of all these aspirations was the taking on, a fourteen years' lease, of a house, the grounds of which abutted on the beautifully-wooded domain of Lady Burdett Coutts, at Highgate; and here I built a large conservatory, kept my cows and Shetland ponies, played at cricket or quoits on summer evenings, and could sometimes, in my quiet walks round my own meadows, almost fancy myself at my dear old birthplace, Charlton, and myself again a village boy. I had given the name "Charlton House" to my residence at Highgate, and while living there I used to go down to Baxter House every morning to business, which, as far as the bronze powder was concerned, was conducted almost entirely without my assistance; so that I had ample time to devote to the many new and interesting subjects that seemed for ever to present themselves to my mind and demand investigation.

I had a good light drawing-office fitted up at Baxter House, and was always at work there on some novel invention, for which patents were being taken out; in some cases experiments were made on the premises, and all sorts of machinery and furnaces were erected to put the ideas to the test of practice. So much did the work at the drawing-board increase, that on one occasion, when much pressed, I applied to my friend, Mr. Bunning, the City Architect, for the loan of an assistant draughtsman to finish some patent drawings. "Well," he said, "I think I can let you have a pupil of mine who is just out of his time; he is a clever architect, an expert at the drawing-board, and is a gentle manly young fellow, in whom you can place implicit confidence." He then called the young man into the office to see me, and this was my first introduction to my friend and partner, and afterwards my brother-in-law, Mr. Robert Longsdon. We soon arranged terms, and he came to Baxter House to assist me for a while with my drawings; we worked side by side in the same room for many months, during which time I gained something in architectural taste and knowledge, and he gained from me, and from his daily occupation, a further insight into engineering. It is not surprising, under these circumstances, that a real and solid friendship should spring up between us; after a time I proposed that we should take more convenient offices in the City, and do something jointly in the way of architecture and engineering, while I was still to devote myself chiefly to my inventions.

We fixed on No. 4, Queen Street Place, for our City offices, and it was from there that so many of my patented inventions were dated. I had now, for the most part, discontinued my labours at Baxter House, except for the erection of experimental machinery or furnaces. On one of these occasions, while busily engaged there, our local policeman called in to see me on a private matter that had exercised his mind very much for the previous two days. He told me that he thought my house was going to be robbed, for it had been watched from early morning until late at night by a person stationed at one of the windows of a public-house that commanded a view of the front door of Baxter House. He said that the man was of gentlemanly appearance, but he did not think he was a member of the "swell mob"; and, in fact, it was to him quite a mystery. I asked, "Do you think he is a German?" "Probably so," he said. " At any rate he is a foreigner." I commended the officer for his vigilance, and giving him a small gratuity, I told him to let me know if anything further occurred.

I at once formed the opinion that the person referred to was watching to see some of the numerous workpeople, who, he might naturally suppose, were employed in my bronze factory, and of whom he might try to obtain information as to my secret process. Now, it so happened that, with the exception of my engine-driver, there were no operatives employed, but only my three relatives, who never left the office all at one time, and when they did leave might well be taken for office clerks, who would know nothing of the manufacture; and so the foreigner watched in vain for an opportunity of bribing some of my imaginary workmen.

I was very desirous of probing this mystery, however, for which purpose I called into my office my engine-driver, a steady, honest Scotchman, who had long been in my employ. I told him what the police officer had communicated to me, and arranged that he should go just as he was, with his shirt-sleeves tucked up (the very beau-ideal of a British workman), over to the public-house, leaving by my front door, so as to be observed by the man on the watch, and take something to drink at the bar. "If," said I, "the stranger comes down and asks questions, say you don't know, but will enquire and let him know; if he offers you anything, accept it, and he will then believe that he can trust you." No sooner had my engineer entered the public-house than the stranger came downstairs and asked him: "Do you work at the bronze-powder factory opposite?" "Yes," was the reply. "Why I ask you," said the stranger, "is this: I have invented a machine for making 'hooks and eyes,' and I want some clever engineering firm to make me these machines; I have been told that you have beautiful machinery over the way, and I should like to give an order for my machines to so eminent an engineer; do you know who made all the machinery at your works?" "I don't know," said the wary Scotchman, "but I can enquire." "Well," said the stranger," meet me here when you leave work to-night, and if you can let me know who made your machinery, I shall reward you handsomely." All this was told me on my engine-driver's return from the public-house, and I was determined to have an interview with the stranger. I told my engineer to meet him as arranged, and simply to tell him that he had ascertained that the whole of the machinery at the bronze factory was planned by a Mr. Henry, who resided at No. 4, North Street, New Road, and that he would probably be there to-morrow at 11 a.m. This was my brother's address, to which I went before the hour named, telling my brother's servant that I expected a gentleman to call at 11 o'clock to ask if Mr. Henry was at home; that she was to say yes, and ask him into the dining-room, where I would await his arrival. Punctual to the hour the stranger came. I offered him a chair, and awaited his communication. "Have I the pleasure," he said," of seeing Mr. Henry, the engineer who designed all the machinery at the bronze factory at St. Pancras?" "Yes," I replied, "I designed the whole of it." "Ah," said my visitor, "I am so glad thus to make your acquaintance; for this purpose I have come over from Bavaria, and wish you to construct a duplicate of it for me." "Well," I replied," this is not possible, for I have quite given up mechanical engineering, and am so deeply engaged with some new inventions that I could not even undertake to furnish you with plans or drawings of the machinery." "But," said the stranger, "I shall pay you anything you demand in reason; so it may answer your purpose to lay aside other things for a time." He pressed me very hard, and I did not know how to get rid of him. I knew exactly what his object was in watching my premises, and was satisfied. "Well," he said, "at least you can give me some idea of the nature of the process, and I shall pay you any fees you like to name." I replied: "I cannot accept a fee for any information I may give you, nor would it be fair on my part to furnish you with detailed plans of the machinery I have constructed for another manufacturer; but as you have come such a long distance, I may just tell you that to make cheap bronze powder, you need not go further than making your alloy in what you call 'long metal'; you will not require any parchment books to beat in, and you will avoid the use of gold-beater's skins, and all the expensive labour of beating it into thin leaves. At the Baxter House factory neither parchment nor gold-beater's skins are ever used; and you will be surprised to hear that I have no secret to tell you. The principle on which they work is so simple that a child could understand it in a moment; you know, of course, what ordinary millstones, used to grind flour, are like. Well, suppose you take two circular discs, say, 2 ft. in diameter; divide their surface into eight compartments by radial lines, and cut small parallel sloping grooves, diagonally arranged in each compartment: then you have a pair of what may be called 'steel millstones,' which may be driven by usual wheel-gearing; cut up your thin sheets of long metal, with a pair of shears, into pieces about 2 in. square, which a boy can feed into a round hole in the centre of the upper millstone, into which a thick stream of soap and water is constantly running. You cannot fail to understand the principle involved, and you will be not a little astonished to see the result of this simple operation. As far as this information is concerned, you are perfectly welcome to it, and I must now close the interview." My visitor was delighted, and profuse in his compliments and thanks. I have often wondered whether, on his return to Bavaria, he tried to put in practice this impossible mode of making bronze powder; if he did, the disappointment he would experience would be only a fitting punishment for his meanness in trying to bribe those who were in possession of my secret.

Before long my bronze powder was fully recognised in the trade, and found its way into every State in Europe and America; it had, in fact, become the one staple manufacture I had so long and so earnestly sought for, and which I hoped would some day replace and render unnecessary the constantly-recurring small additions to the business I had so laboriously built up. The bronze powder business, however, no longer required my personal attention, and was well managed by those I had chosen as the guardians of a secret, which was long and honourably kept. The large profits derived from it not only furnished me with the means of obtaining all reasonable pleasures and social enjoyments, but, what was even a greater boon in my particular case, they provided the funds demanded by the ceaseless activity of my inventive faculties, without my ever having to call in the assistance of the capitalist to help me through the heavy costs of patenting and experimenting on my too numerous inventions. The importance of this steady supply of the sinews of war may be easily imagined from the fact that I have obtained no less than 110 separate patents, the mere stamp duties and annuities on which have gone far to absorb £10,000, to say nothing of legal fees, and the costly labour of writing long specifications, coupled with the work of making the necessary drawings required to illustrate and define the precise nature of these varied inventions. Only about a dozen of these inventions are referred to in this hasty ramble through fields of thought and labour; the whole, if thoroughly described and gone into on their merits, would utterly weary, and wear out the patience of, my most indulgent reader.

While referring to patents for inventions, I cannot refrain from pointing to this particular invention of bronze powder as an example that may advantageously be borne in mind by those short-sighted persons who object to grants of letters-patent. There can be no doubt of the fact that the security offered by the patent law to persons who expend large sums of money and valuable time in pursuing novel inventions, results in many new and important improvements in our manufactures, which otherwise it would be sheer madness for men to waste their energy and their money in attempting. But in this particular case the conditions were most unfavourable for patenting, owing to the fact that the article produced was only a powder, and could not be identified as having been made by any particular form of mechanism. Therefore it could not be adequately protected by patent; moreover, by my machinery, the cost of production, if only paid for at the ordinary rates of wages, did not exceed one-thirtieth of the selling price of the article. This fact alone offered an irresistible temptation to others to evade the inventor's claims, and so rendered the patent law a most inadequate protection. On the other hand, the great value of a small bulk of the material made it possible to carry on the manufacture in secret, and this method of manufacture was rendered the more feasible by making each different class of machine self-acting, and thereby dispensing entirely with a host of skilled manipulators. It may therefore be fairly considered, so far as this particular article was concerned, that there were, in effect, no patent laws in existence.

Now let us see what the public has had to pay for not being able to give this security to the inventor. To illustrate this point, I may repeat the simple fact that the first order for bronze powder obtained by my traveller was for two pounds of pale-gold, at eighty shillings per pound net, for the Coalbrookdale Iron Company. I may further state that, in consequence of the necessity for strict secrecy, I had made arrangements with three young men (my wife's brothers), to whom salaries were paid far beyond the cost of mere manual labour (of which, indeed, but little was required). My friend Mr. Young desired to occupy the position of sleeping partner only, and not be troubled with any details of the manufacture; so I entered into a contract with him to pay all salaries, find all raw materials, pay rent, engine power, and bring the whole produce of the manufactory into stock, in one-ounce packages, ready for delivery, at a cost, for all qualities, of five shillings and sixpence per pound; after which he and I shared equally all profits of the sale. It is rather a curious coincidence that the one ounce bottles of gold paint were labelled five shillings and sixpence each, off which the retailer was allowed a liberal discount.

Had the invention been patented, it would have become public property in fourteen years from the date of the patent, after which period the public would have been able to buy bronze powder at its present market price, viz., from two shillings and threepence to two shillings and ninepence per pound. But this important secret was kept for about thirty-five years, and the public had to pay excessively high prices for twenty-one years longer than they would have done had the invention become public property in fourteen years, as it would have been if patented. Even this does not represent all the disadvantage resulting from secret manufactures. While every detail of production was a profound secret, there were no improvements made by the outside public in any one of the machines employed during the whole thirty-five years; whereas during the fourteen years, if the invention had been patented and published, there would, in all probability, have been many improved machines invented, and many novel features applied to totally different manufactures.

I have lingered long over this subject of bronze powder, because it is one which has had great influence on my career; it was taken up at a period when my energy and my endurance, and my faith in my own powers, were at their highest; and as I look on all the incidents surrounding it, through the lapse of time and the many changes of the fifty years since it was undertaken, I wonder how I had the courage to attack a subject so complicated and so difficult, and one on which there were no data to assist me. There were not even the details of former failures to hold up the finger of warning, or point out a possible path to pursue, for no one had yet ventured to try and replace the delicate maipulation which experts had made their own, both in Japan and China, where texts or prayers printed with bronze were offered up at the shrine of Confucius two thousand years before I had ever seen a particle of bronze powder.

I cannot conclude this imperfect account of the bronze powder manufacture without a tribute to those on whose scrupulous integrity hung the whole value of this invention from day to day through all those long years. The eldest brother of my wife had previously been connected with the watch manufacture in London, while the next to him in age had not yet commenced his career; and I could offer a position sufficiently remunerative to induce both of them to assist in carrying on the bronze manufacture. The younger brother, Mr. W. D. Allen, had been with me as a pupil for a year or two; finding him a bright, intelligent lad, when he was about to leave school, I prevailed upon his father to let me have charge of him, and impart, as far as I was able, some knowledge of engineering. Thus, living in the same house with me, he grew up more like one of my own sons than a brother-in-law. In due time he also took up his position in the bronze works, and kept my secret with the same silent caution as his elder brothers had done. He also assisted me in my early steel experiments at Baxter House, and, later on, when I determined to build a steel works at Sheffield, the great confidence I felt in his judgment and integrity induced me to offer him a partnership. He be came the managing partner of Messrs. Bessemer and Co., of Sheffield, and after fourteen years of the most successful management, I and each of the other partners retired from the business, leaving Mr. Allen in sole possession of the works, which he purchased at a sum mutually agreed upon.

Many of my readers will be more or less acquainted with Mr. W. D. Allen, whose intimate knowledge of every detail of the Bessemer process enabled him to pay large dividends to the present Limited Company, even in bad times. Thus my brother-in-law's position in life was assured; his brother John had died several years previously, and there only remained his brother Richard to carry on the business at Baxter House.

In closing these details of the bronze powder manufacture, I may say that, later on, the handsome royalties paid by my steel licencees rendered the bronze powder business no longer necessary to me as a source of income; and I had then the extreme satisfaction of presenting the works to my brother-in-law, Richard Allen, who had, with so much caution, successfully kept, for more than thirty years, a secret for which, he perfectly well knew, some thousands of pounds would have been given him at any moment.


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Footnote
[1] This important secret was kept inviolably for more than forty years