The Boy's Playbook of Science / Including the Various Manipulations and Arrangements of Chemical and Philosophical Apparatus Required for the Successful Performance of Scientific Experiments in Illustration of the Elementary Branches of Chemistry and Natural Philosophy

by John Henry Pepper

a b. Inverted sheet iron syphon. At c is seen the piece of tow moistened with alcohol, which, being set on fire, warms the tube b. d. A lighted torch of coloured spirit, the flame of which is dragged down the tube at a by the descending current, and is impelled upwards by the ascending current b.

This plan of ventilation was proposed to be used in rooms in connexion with the chimney and chimney-piece, and in order to give it an ornamental appearance, the chimney-piece was supplied with two ornamental hollow columns, the ends of which were open at the mantel-shelf, and the tubes or columns were continued under the hearthstone, proceeding up the back of the grate and entering the chimney, in which there would be a constant current of heated air, and it was expected that the syphon arrangement would keep a current of air always in motion, and thus help to ventilate the room. (Fig. 373.) This plan, however, does not appear to have been adopted, and wisely so, because half the time the syphon arrangement might invert itself, and vomit smoky air out of the chimney into the room; indeed it is surprising what odd and contradictory freaks are performed by currents of air. The author remembers a case where two rooms on the same floor, the one a dining-room and the other a drawing-room, were always exhibiting the most absurd phenomena of smoke. If the fire in one room was lit, then the other, in a few moments, began to smell exactly like the inside of a gas manufactory, and was, of course, more or less filled with smoke, whilst the room in which the fire was actually burning remained quite free from this annoyance. The smoke appeared to issue from the wainscot or moulding which runs round at the bottom of the wall, and was at first thought to be an escape from the chimney of the kitchen beneath, the inside of which was duly examined and thoroughly stopped with cement in every place likely to afford a channel to the smoke, and the crevice whence the smoke issued was also filled in neatly with cement. But it was all in vain; the smoke then made its way out from another part of the cornice, and at last the rooms exhibited a beautiful reciprocating action. If the drawing-room fire was lighted the dining-room was full of smoke, and if the latter was lighted the former had the agreeable visitation. At last the backs of the two grates were examined, and in each was discovered a hole about one inch in diameter; and it was also found that the spaces at the back of the stoves had not been filled in properly, and, indeed, communicated with the hollow space behind the cornice. When, therefore, the fire was lighted, and coals heaped on just above the hole, the gas and smoke distilled through the orifice and travelled on, where it found the most convenient exit; and the fact is sadly at variance (apparently) with theory, because it might be considered that cold air would rush towards a fire, and that the draught ought to have been from the cornice to the chimney instead of vice versâ. The fact seems to be that the coal in all grates is, in the act of burning, distilling and giving off inflammable gas; when the coal was, therefore, heaped above the orifice, and was, possibly, caked hard at the top, the gas distilling from it escaped more easily from the little orifice than elsewhere, and chance determined that the channel or delivery pipe should be in the direction of the drawing-room when the fire was burning in the dining-room, and in the contrary direction when the fire was lighted in the latter chamber. The nuisance was stopped by plugging the holes at the back of the grate with clay, and putting a sheet of iron over the orifice.

Fig. 373.

a b. Chimney-piece supported on two hollow ornamental pillars corresponding with the short arm of a syphon. c c c. The dotted line showing the pipes leading from each pillar under the hearth, and terminating in a long pipe passing into the chimney. The arrows show the path of the air descending from the chimney-piece and ascending in the chimney.

Before Dr. Faraday was appointed as a scientific counsellor to assist the deliberations of the Trinity Board in connexion with lighthouses, all the lamps were burnt in the lanterns with the smallest and most imperfect arrangement for carrying off the heated air and products of combustion; as a natural consequence, and particularly on cold nights, the windows of the lantern of the lighthouse were covered with ice derived from the condensation of the water produced by the combustion of the hydrogen of the oil, whilst the carbon generated such quantities of carbonic acid that the light-keepers were unable to stay in the lantern, and if obliged to visit the latter (whilst looking to improving the light of any single lamp that might be burning dimly), they were almost overpowered with the excess of carbonic acid, and stated, in their evidence, that it produced headache and sickness, and a tendency to insensibility. Faraday immediately established a system of ventilation; and by attaching a copper tube to the top of each lamp-chimney, and centering them all in one large funnel passing to the top of the lighthouse, the whole of the water which previously condensed on the glass windows and impeded the light, besides injuring the brass and copper fittings, was carried off, as also the poisonous carbonic acid gas; and thus, as Dr. Faraday expressed himself, a complete system of sewage was applied to the lamps of the lighthouses.

If any one of the numerous stories of ships saved by the Eddystone Lighthouse could demonstrate more than another the value of this beacon in mid ocean, it must be the graphic account in the Times of the gallant conduct of the British Admiral with his fleet whilst breasting the frightful storm of October, 1859, and endeavouring to reach Plymouth Sound:—

"It was on Saturday, the 22nd October, that the Hero, the Trafalgar, the Algiers, and the Aboukir, accompanied by the Mersey, the Emerald, and the Melpomene, put to sea from Queenstown. Up to the afternoon of Monday the squadron met with no remarkable adventure, but about that time, just after the crews had been exercised at gunnery practice, heavy storms of hail and sleet began to set in. Still there was no immediate indication of the tempest at hand, and at sunset topsails were double-reefed and courses reefed for the night, with no particular character about the wind, except that of extreme variability. As the morning broke on Tuesday—the day of the storm—the Land's-end was sighted, and the rain and the wind continued to increase. About nine a.m. the advent of the gale was no longer doubtful; topgallantyards were sent on deck and topgallantmasts struck, and the signal was given from the flagship, 'Form two columns; form line of battle; Admiral will endeavour to go to Plymouth.' To Plymouth, accordingly, the course of the fleet was shaped, but so terrifically had the wind increased that it became very questionable whether the sternmost ships of the line could possibly succeed in entering the Sound. Upon this the Admiral determined to wear the fleet together, stand off, and face the storm, a manœuvre which, under circumstances of great difficulty, was most gallantly executed. The ships were close upon the Eddystone Lighthouse, round which they 'darted like dolphins' under the tremendous pressure of the gale, the Trafalgar stopping in the midst of the storm to pick up a man who had fallen overboard. The whole squadron now stood off the land, the Mersey and Melpomene furling their sails, and the former vessel steaming along 'like an ocean giant.' Still the gale increased till about three p.m., when there occurred that remarkable phenomenon by which these rotatory tempests are characterized. The fleet had got into the very centre of the storm, the 'eye' of the tornado, and, though the sea towered up and broke in tremendous billows all around, the wind suddenly ceased and the sun shone. When, however, the signal had been given and obeyed for setting sail again, the ships soon encountered the gale once more—not, as before, from the S.E., but the N.W.—and in greater force than ever. It was now a perfect hurricane; and for three hours the whole fury of the tempest was poured upon the squadron. When it began, at length, to abate a little, the four line-of-battle ships and one of the frigates were still in company, and all doing well. The Mersey and the Emerald had steamed into Plymouth, but the five remaining vessels kept in open order throughout that terrible night, wore in succession by night signal at about one a.m., made the land at daylight, formed line of battle, came grandly up Channel under sail at the rate of eleven knots an hour, steamed into Portland, and 'took up their anchorage without the loss of a sail, a spar, or a ropeyarn.'"

After making the important improvement in the ventilation of lighthouses, many letters were addressed to the learned philosopher by numerous light-keepers, one of which in plain but striking language related that "the enemy (alluding to the water and carbonic acid) was now driven out."