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
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.
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.
Footnote
Go to next chapter
[1] This important secret was kept inviolably for more than forty years