Meanwhile great attention was being paid to the works and all pertaining to the men and methods. The firm established perhaps the first benefit society of workmen. Every one was a member and contributed according to his earnings. Out of this fund payments were made to the sick or disabled in varying amounts. No member of the Soho Friendly Society, except a few irreclaimable drunkards, ever came upon the parish.
When Boulton's son came of age, seven hundred were dined. No well-behaved workman was ever turned adrift. Fathers employed introduced their sons into the works and brought them up under their own eye, watching over their conduct and mechanical training. Thus generation after generation followed each other at Soho works.
On another occasion Boulton writes Watt in Cornwall, "I have thought it but respectful to give our folks a dinner to-day. There were present Murdoch, Lawson, Pearson, Perkins, Malcom, Robert Muir, all Scotchmen, John Bull and Wilson and self, for the engines are now all finished and the men have behaved well and are attached to us."
Six Scotch and three English in the English works of Soho thought worthy of dining with their employer! It was, we may be sure, a very rare occurrence in that day, but worthy of the true captain of industry. Here is an early "invasion" from the north. We are reminded of Sir Charles Dilke's statement in his "Greater Britain," that, in his tour round the world, he found ten Scotchmen for every Englishman in high position. Owing, of course, to the absence of scope at home the Scot has had to seek his career abroad.
A master-stroke this, probably the first dinner of its kind in Britain, and no doubt more highly appreciated by the honored guests than an advance in wages. Splendid workmen do not live upon wages alone. Appreciation felt and shown by their employer, as in this case, is the coveted reward.
We have read how Watt was much troubled in Scotland with poor mechanics. Not one good craftsman could he then find. After seeing Soho, where the standard was much higher, he declared that the Scotch mechanic was very much inferior; he was prejudiced against them. Murdoch, however, the first Scot at Soho, soon eclipsed all, and no doubt under his wing other Scots gained a trial with the result indicated. It is very significant that even in the earliest days of the steam engine, Scotchmen should exhibit such talent for its construction, forecasting their present pre-eminence in marine engineering.
Small wonder that the Soho works became the model for all others. The last words in Boulton's letter, "and are attached to us," tell the story. No danger of strikes, of lockouts, or quarrels of any kind in such establishments as that of Boulton and Watt, who proved that they in turn were attached to their men. Mutual attachment between employers and employed is the panacea for all troubles—yes, better than a panacea, the preventer of troubles.
After repeated calls from Watt, Boulton took the journey to Cornwall in October, 1778, although Fothergill was again uttering lamentable prophecies of impending ruin, and the London agent was imploring his presence there upon financial matters pressing in the extreme. Boulton succeeded in borrowing $10,000 from Truro bankers on the security of engines erected, and settled several disputes, getting $3,500 per year royalty for one engine and $2,000 per year for another. At last, after nine years of arduous labor since the invention was hailed as successful, the golden harvest so long expected began to replenish the empty treasury. The heavy liabilities, however, remained a source of constant anxiety. No remedy could be found against "this consumption of the purse."
Watt had again to encounter the lack of competent, sober workmen to run engines. The Highland blood led him at last into severe measures, and he insisted upon discharging two or three of the most drunken. Here Boulton had great difficulty in restraining him. Much had to be endured, and occasional bouts of drunkenness overlooked, although serious accidents resulted. At last two men appeared whose services proved invaluable—Murdoch, already mentioned, and Law—one of whom became famous. Watt was absent when the former called and asked Boulton for employment. The young Scot was the son of a well-known millwright near Ayr who had made several improvements. His famous son worked with him, but being ambitious and hearing of the fame of Boulton and Watt, he determined to seek entrance to Soho works and learn the highest order of handicraft. Boulton had told him that there was at present no place open, but noticing the strange cap the awkward young man had been dangling in his hands, he asked what it was made of. "Timmer," said the lad. "What, out of wood?" "Yes." "How was it made?" "I turned it mysel' in a bit lathey o' my own making." This was enough for that rare judge of men. Here was a natural-born mechanic, certain. The young man was promptly engaged for two years at fifteen shillings per week when in shop, seventeen shillings when abroad, and eighteen shillings when in London. His history is the usual march upward until he became his employers' most trusted manager in all their mechanical operations. While engaged upon one critical job, where the engine had defied previous attempts to put it to rights, the people in the house where Murdoch lodged were awakened one night by heavy tramping in his room over-head. Upon entering, Murdoch was seen in his bed clothes heaving away at the bed post in his sleep, calling out "Now she goes, lads, now she goes." His heart was in his work. He had a mission, and only one—to make that engine go.
Of course he rose. There's no holding down such a "dreamer" anywhere in this world. It was not only that he had zeal, for he had sense with it, and was not less successful in conquering the rude Cornishmen who had baffled, annoyed and intimidated Watt. He won their hearts. His ability did not end with curing the defects of machinery; he knew how to manage men. At first he had to depend upon his physical powers. He was an athlete not indisposed to lead the strenuous life. He had not been very long in Cornwall before half a dozen of the mining captains, a class that had tormented poor, retiring and modest Watt, entered the engine-room and began their bullying tricks on him. The Scotch blood was up, Murdoch quietly locked the door and said to the captains, "Now then gentlemen, you shall not leave until we have settled matters once for all." He selected the biggest Cornishman and squared off. The contest was soon over. Murdoch vanquished the bully and was ready for the next. The captains, seeing the kind of man he was, offered terms of peace, hands were shaken all round and they parted good friends, and remained so. We are past that rude age. The skilled, educated manager of to-day can use no weapon so effectively with skilled men as the supreme force of gentleness, the manner, language and action of the educated man, even to the calm, low voice never raised to passionate pitch. He conquers and commands others because he has command of himself.