January, 1865.
PREFACE.
That a Memoir of the Inventor of the Steam Engine, should appear for the first time two hundred years after his decease, is an occurrence in our literature, which, of itself, might almost be considered sufficient to arouse public inquiry in respect to such a production. But far more solid ground exists for believing that the great country which gave birth to the Inventor, and his Invention of one of man’s noblest productions in art, will peruse it with true national pride, when assured of the amount and strength of the evidence now first adduced to establish those claims which, although never entirely doubted, yet have hitherto borne too misty and mythical a character to satisfy common comprehension. The labour encountered in carrying out the required design may be appreciated from the fact, that the present work has been to a great extent the study of thirty years, although literally completed within only the last few years. This field of inquiry has been, consequently, long open to more ambitious pens, and sooner or later would, no doubt, have received, as it demands—the attention of men of letters and of science.
Probably no other country furnishes so singular a fact, as that of being for two centuries without information much better than tradition, and accumulated diversities of opinions freely indulged in, respecting the political and private character, and inventive talent of one of its most remarkable, interesting, and glorious benefactors. And, during so long a period, in consequence of such defective and conflicting information, producing the most absurd and unreliable statements, even on the most ordinary points of individual history. In the whole range of English biography, within the same period of time, no important memoir has ever been so mythical as that of Edward Somerset, second Marquis of Worcester.
So entirely unacquainted are his countrymen with the history of his life, that a very plausible work might be written to disprove both his authorship of the “Century,” and his invention of the steam-engine. Indeed Scotland has already contributed materials for the former, and M. Arago, late Astronomer Royal of France, has all but made out the latter! And such a production would excite little suspicion and probably no hostility of feeling. But this need not cause much surprise when it is mentioned, that it has not yet been the good fortune of any writer, touching on the Life of the Marquis of Worcester, to escape recording a mass of errors, such as occur in no other biography in our language; although the period usually selected seldom exceeds four or five years, out of a life of sixty-six. The reader, therefore, who takes up the present volume, under impressions derived from such dubious sources of information as those indicated, will find little to confirm his preconceived opinions. The histories of men as of nations require facts for their basis, judgment to guide in their arrangement, discretion to direct a wise selection, and a knowledge of the whole to perfect the desired work. The mixed character of the Marquis of Worcester has ever been a stumbling-block to the purely classical scholar, the divine, the politician, and the lawyer; while, on the other hand, the rapid advances in science during the last fifty years, have deprived “The Century” of more than half its interest. Science cannot hope to be advanced by discussing the automata of the 17th century, its fountains, improvements in fire-arms, bows, keys, stairs, boats, fortifications, and many other promising inventions. But a Life of the Marquis of Worcester, without the “Century,” would be a drama without its most important character. It is, therefore, no act of supererogation to give a commentary on that little, but perplexing book; it is something more than a mere amusement, it is a necessary adjunct, and is not wholly useless considered as a matter connected with the history of science. The commentator on the “Century” may hope to render the biography of its noble author interesting from another and most important point of view, which would be wholly lost by its omission, or by treating it as secondary or unimportant. The “Century” is the exponent of the man; the author without his pocket-journal of his life-long labours is reduced to a nonentity, with nothing higher left to him to boast of than his descent from royal blood, the unimpeachable character of his noble line of ancestry, and his own spotless rectitude of character—an amiable, unintellectual man!
The “Century,” the only work he is known to have left to posterity, sorely perplexed the fastidious Horace Walpole, was too much of a mechanical production for the astute David Hume, and has thoroughly bewildered the legal acumen of Mr. Muirhead, the biographer of James Watt. It has challenged the skill of critics of every degree, from contributors to the Gentleman’s Magazine to those of the Harleian Miscellany, and even in all sketches of the history of the steam-engine, percolating thence through biographies, and popular accounts of Raglan Castle, to the latest and best illustrated works on our castles and abbeys. So many writers, so many minds, whose judgments in a collected form, would afford a very discordant and uninviting miscellany, a sad satire on the material and style of a certain class of criticism, too much encouraged in our current literature. It is painful to observe its constant want of sympathy with the pains and penalties which unhappily are the too frequent lot of lofty, original, inventive genius. The case might fairly be paralleled by supposing Voltaire and others to have successfully established a clique against Shakespeare, to misrepresent and malign the great dramatist up to the present time; when, suddenly should appear, the first work, to settle his literary claims! Of course it is declared impossible; and so it is, with a literary work; but it is not so with Inventions. The fame of the Marquis of Worcester rests less on his book than on his Water-commanding Engine. The book we see and read, but probably not one man in ten thousand knows anything about the Engine. Here is the weak point when the tide turns against the Inventor, against the man, a man politically and religiously proscribed. A great man for his Engine but hated by those politicians who side with the Stuart dynasty, for his luckless association with Charles the First. And misunderstood by the dilettanti Walpole, a connoisseur in paintings and works of vertu, but in matters of science more ignorant of the Marquis of Worcester’s worth, than Voltaire was of Shakespeare’s genius. But we regret there is a third conspicuous offender in the field, and as he is the latest, so we hope he is the last of the clan of vituperative critics.
Our largely gifted historian, Lord Macaulay, never wrote such feeble lines as those in which he attempted to depict the Marquis of Worcester; but the historian is a tower of strength, and his words may here be quoted without a fear of our object being either mistaken, or open to misrepresentation. Depreciation is not our object, and nothing could be a greater folly than to attempt it on such ground; we give them in evidence, to prove how little really is known, even in well-informed circles, respecting this extraordinary inventor, when so brilliant a writer as Macaulay could be at fault, from no other cause than defective information. Speaking of Charles the Second’s reign, he says:—“The Marquess of Worcester had recently[?] observed the expansive power of moisture rarified by heat. After many experiments he had succeeded in constructing a rude steam engine,[?] which he called a fire water-work, and which he pronounced to be an admirable and most forcible instrument of propulsion.[?] But the Marquess was suspected to be a madman[?] and known to be a Papist. His inventions, therefore, found no favourable reception.[?] His fire water-work might, perhaps, furnish matter for conversation at a meeting of the Royal Society,[?] but was not applied to any practical purpose.[?]” These few lines suggest seven inquiries, but we are satisfied Macaulay could never have written thus upon the life of any great man of that period, much less on this illustrious inventor, had the proper materials been at command. This example is valuable, in as much as it is well known that Lord Macaulay was master of much curious reading, particularly of the class referring to that interesting period of our country’s history, and also that he possessed a remarkably retentive memory. But he was here dealing with a shattered monument; its goodly form wholly gone, and its fragments scattered in every direction; here ground to dust, there altogether buried, and so disfigured and dishonoured that he made the most he could of the faint traces within his immediate reach, and unquestionably felt satisfied that, considering the limit of these few lines, he had boldly, graphically, and truthfully pourtrayed the character he had designed to delineate. How infinitely superior to this rough draught would have been the sketch, had Macaulay possessed proper documentary evidence. A more striking or satisfactory instance than is here adduced could not be presented for showing the paucity of information hitherto existing in a collected form; and those readers who might otherwise have doubted the fact, will readily gather from what is here brought forward, that the story of this singular man’s life has hitherto remained untold.
The life of the Marquis of Worcester affords a tissue of the most violent contrasts, romantic in many incidents, exceeding any that have ever been experienced by any other descendant of our ancient nobility. He was a man of rigid honour and probity, remarkable too for his modesty, virtue, and genius, in an age distinguished for few excellencies, and notorious for many vices. He was the favourite of his Sovereign, although in but little favour at Court, and the very esteem which raises most men was his certain ruin; obliged to flee his country, he returned only to be imprisoned; and on his release, was allowed £156 per annum out of his own princely but confiscated estates! As the subject of Charles the Second, he received back his demolished castle, without the means to re-establish himself; and, steeped in debt, he sought royal patronage in vain, although his genius was perhaps of greater value to the state, than all the revenues of the Crown! Neglected by contemporaries, his memory has been preserved rather traditionally than by any literary effort (beyond fitful glimpses of doubtful praise), to raise a monument to the indisputable inventor of the Steam Engine—that greatest source of our country’s commercial and manufacturing greatness; and universal, moral and intellectual progress. Lord Macaulay has tersely and justly remarked that:—“The chief cause which made the fusion of the different elements of society (in the 17th century) so imperfect, was the extreme difficulty which our ancestors found in passing from place to place. Of all inventions, the alphabet and the printing press alone excepted, those inventions which abridge distance have done most for the civilization of our species.” He then adds, speaking of steam, that it has—“in our day, produced an unprecedented revolution in human affairs, which has enabled navies to advance in the face of wind and tide, and battalions, attended by all their baggage and artillery, to traverse kingdoms at a pace equal to that of the fleetest race-horse.”
The general reader will be very likely to overlook one important fact, a golden hinge on which more rests than at first appears in the following narrative; and, therefore, a word of remark may not be altogether thrown away, in calling attention to the circumstance. There are very many persons, most intelligent and well informed on other matters, who have yet to learn that all invention is progressive in a regular series. There may be a long series of elementary principles developed without the occurrence of a single practical result, practical as regards any useful application to supply man’s wants. Then may arise a series combining these elements, so to speak, and for the first time producing a new instrument, machine, or engine. When a new machine is produced, we do not say, Why it only consists of a number of wheels and cylinders, therefore, surely there is nothing new in it! All the parts may be old, and yet the combination be quite new. To analyse an invention into its several parts, would be equivalent to finding that a poem was only composed of the letters of the alphabet, or the words in a dictionary. But there is another point of view not lightly to be passed over. Take this instance of the steam engine. We find a talented Scotch writer wondering that Englishmen take the trouble to claim the invention of the steam engine for the Marquis of Worcester, because of the “doubtfulness” existing respecting it, at the same time that he accompanies this statement with a large amount of evidence, but evidence which he does not fully admit. He thus places himself very much in the position of a philosopher, who should adopt as his theory some peculiar notion to the effect that the letter A, or the numeral 1, could be dispensed with, in consequence of some “doubtfulness existing” in respect to its value; and that, indeed, to retain either any longer would only be evidence of a “little national rivalry.” Although this may appear too absurd in this light, something very similar has been proposed as a kind of compromise in the contest between England and France, the “little national rivalry” between which countries might be settled, would Englishmen but give up all further advocacy of the Marquis of Worcester’s claim. This is not the reason given, but it is the happy result which would follow; and it is urged against the invention, that there is so much “doubtfulness existing” about it, that it is a wonder any one takes further trouble in the matter. So far as we can see, its value is A, or 1, it is the first of a series, it is the golden hinge, or link, on which all hangs; take this away, and we sever the head from the main body. Will any one in future be found to take up and maintain so foolish a line of argument? The Marquis of Worcester was unquestionably the Inventor of the Steam Engine in the first of its three stages, as a fire engine. Previous to the Marquis of Worcester, all that had been done, was solely in the series developing a principle, a mere idea, but still no invention, in the proper sense of such a term, as applied to works of practical utility. All other early efforts were purely elementary or experimental.
Let us take an illustration from another branch of science. It is not unreasonable to suppose that Electricity, using the term in its most extended sense, will some day or other supersede steam. We probably only require to be able to collect it cheaply and to control it effectually, to employ the artillery of heaven on the wide ocean, on our network of iron rails, and throughout all our manufacturing establishments. A, we will suppose, invents the first efficient Electric Engine, which with fifty horse power is fully at work; and in the course of a few years we sit down to write the history of this engine invented by A. Where shall we start in our history? Did not Faraday years ago produce an electro-magnetic engine; then of course Faraday invented A.’s engine! But we need not stop here; we have the whole history of electricity before us. There is no end of machines and engines; and a patent specification may come to light, the nearest possible thing to A. But we have not done yet, we have to consider France, &c., where we may find some more elementary electrical models before Faraday, and then of course before A. So that, on this system, as hitherto adopted, in attempting to settle a claim for De Caus, and depreciating the claim of the Marquis of Worcester, we may venture to predict an analogous fate for the Electric Engine, hereafter to be invented by some inventor, A. Here we must plainly see that all that has hitherto been invented in this electrical line, does not go beyond model or elementary apparatus, and that however nearly some of these may approach any plan hereafter to be invented, it would be ridiculous and highly reprehensible to set up claims based on no practical value, and only colourably similar in some single particular, but otherwise of no greater concern than as amusing or illustrative scientific toys. De Caus’ fountain was one of these pleasing toys, and De Caus himself could never have thought otherwise of it, taking his own large book and his own few lines of description; although it served the purpose of M. Arago to assume for it a pre-eminence over the Marquis of Worcester’s invention, merely because the latter came half a century later.