William Murdock was not only a most excellent and steady workman, but a man of eminent mechanical genius. He was the first maker of a model locomotive in this country; he was the introducer of lighting by gas, and the inventor of many valuable parts of the working steam-engine, hereafter to be described. His father was a millwright and miller, at Bellow Mill, near Old Cumnock, in Ayrshire, and was much esteemed for his probity and industry, as well as for his mechanical skill. He was the inventor of bevelled cast-iron gear for mills, and his son was proud to exhibit, on the lawn in front of his house at Sycamore Hill, Handsworth, a piece of the first work of the kind executed in Britain. It was cast for him at Carron Ironworks, after the pattern furnished by him, in 1766. William was born in 1754, and brought up to his father’s trade. On arriving at manhood, he became desirous of obtaining a larger experience of mill-work and mechanics than he could acquire in his father’s little mill. Hearing of the fame of Boulton and Watt, and the success of their new engine, he determined to travel south, and seek for a job at Soho. Many Scotchmen were accustomed to call there on the same errand, probably relying on the known clanship of their countrymen, and thinking that they would find a friend and advocate in Watt. But strange to say, Watt did not think Scotchmen capable of becoming first-class mechanics.[181]
When Murdock called at Soho, in the year 1777, to ask for a job, Watt was from home, but he saw Boulton, who was usually accessible to callers of every rank. In answer to Murdock’s inquiry whether he could have a job, Boulton replied that work was rather slack with them then, and that every place was filled up. During the brief conversation that ensued, the blate young Scotchman, like most country lads in the presence of strangers, had some difficulty in knowing what to do with his hands, and unconsciously kept twirling his hat with them. Boulton’s attention was directed to the twirling hat, which seemed to be of a peculiar make. It was not a felt hat, nor a cloth hat, nor a glazed hat; but it seemed to be painted, and composed of some unusual material. “That seems to be a curious sort of hat,” said Boulton, looking at it more closely; “why, what is it made of?” “Timmer, sir,” said Murdock, modestly. “Timmer! Do you mean to say that it is made of wood?” “Yes, sir.” “Pray, how was it made?” “I turned it mysel’, sir, in a bit lathey of my own making.” Boulton looked at the young man again. He had risen a hundred degrees in his estimation. He was tall, good-looking, and of open and ingenuous countenance; and that he had been able to turn a wooden hat for himself in a lathe of his own making was proof enough that he was a mechanic of no mean skill. “You may call again, my man,” said Boulton. “Thank you, sir,” said Murdock, giving his hat a final twirl.
When Murdock called again, he was at once put upon a trial job, after which he was entered as a regular hand. We learn from Boulton’s memorandum-book that he was engaged for two years, at 15s. a week when at home, 17s. when from home, and 18s. when in London. Boulton’s engagement of Murdock was amply justified by the result. Beginning as a common mechanic, he applied himself diligently and conscientiously to his work, and became trusted. More responsible duties were confided to him, and he strove to perform them to the best of his power. His industry and his skilfulness soon marked him for promotion, and he rose from grade to grade until he became Boulton and Watt’s most trusted co-worker and adviser in all their mechanical undertakings of importance.
When Murdock went into Cornwall to take charge of the engines, he gave himself no rest until he had conquered their defects and put them in thorough working order. He devoted himself to his duties with a zeal and ability that completely won Watt’s heart. He was so filled with his work, that when he had an important job in hand, he could scarcely sleep at nights for thinking of it. When the engine at Wheal Union was ready for starting, the people of the house at Redruth, in which Murdock lodged, were greatly disturbed one night by a strange noise in his room. Several heavy blows on the floor made them start from their beds, thinking the house was coming down. They rushed to Murdock’s room, and there was he in his shirt, heaving away at the bedpost in his sleep, calling out, “Now she goes, lads! now she goes.”
Murdock was not less successful in making his way with the Cornishmen with whom he was brought into daily contact; indeed, he fought his way to their affections. One day at Chacewater, some half-dozen of the mining captains came into the engine-room and began bullying him. This he could not stand, and adopted a bold expedient. He locked the door, and said, “Now, then, you shall not leave this place until I have it fairly out with you.” He selected the biggest, and put himself in a fighting attitude. The Cornishmen love fair play, and while the two engaged in battle, the others, without interfering, looked on. The contest was soon over; for Murdock was a tall, powerful fellow, and speedily vanquished his opponent. The others, seeing the kind of man they had to deal with, made overtures of reconciliation; and they shook hands all round, and parted the best of friends.[182]
Watt continued to have his differences and altercations with the Cornishmen, but he had no such way of settling them. Indeed, he was almost helpless when he came in contact with rough men of business. Most of the mines were then paying very badly, and the adventurers raised all sorts of objections to making the stipulated payment of the engine dues. Under such circumstances, altercations with them took place for which Watt was altogether unprepared. He was under the apprehension that they were constantly laying their heads together for the purpose of taking advantage of him and his partner. He never looked on the bright side of things, but always on the darkest. “The rascality of mankind,” said he to Dr. Black, “is almost beyond belief.” Though his views of science were large, his views of men were narrow. Much of this may have been the result of his recluse habits and closet life, as well as of his constant ill-health. With his racking headaches, it was indeed difficult for him to be cheerful. But no one could be more conscious of his own defects—of his want of tact, his want of business qualities, and his want of temper—than he was himself. He knew his besetting infirmities, from which even the best and wisest are not exempt. His greatness was mingled with imperfections, and his strength with weakness, else had he been more than human. It is not in the order of Providence that the gifts and graces of life should be concentrated in any one perfectly adjusted character. Even when we inquire into the “Admirable Crichton” of biography, and seek to trace his life, it vanishes almost into a myth.
In the midst of his many troubles and difficulties, Watt’s invariable practice was to call upon Boulton for help. Boulton was satisfied to take men as he found them, and try to make the best of them. Watt was a man of the study; Boulton a man of the world. Watt was a master of machines; but Boulton, of men. Though Watt might be the brain, Boulton was the heart of the concern. “If you had been here,” wrote Watt to Boulton, after one of his disagreeable meetings with the adventurers, “If you had been here, and gone to that meeting with your cheerful countenance and brave heart, perhaps they would not have been so obstinate.” The scene referred to by Watt occurred at a meeting of the Wheal Union Adventurers, at which the savings effected by the new engine were to be calculated and settled. Here is Watt’s own description of the affair, and his feelings on the occasion, which will give a good idea of the irksomeness of his position, and the disagreeable people he had occasionally to encounter:—
“At Wheal Union account our savings were ordered to be charged to the interest of Messrs. Edwards and Phillips; but when to be paid, God knows! Bevan said in a month. After all this was settled, in came Capt. Trevithick, I believe on purpose, as he came late and might have heard that I was gone there. He immediately fell foul of our account, in a manner peculiar to himself ... laboured to demonstrate that Dalcoath engines not only surpassed the table, but even did more work with the coals than Wheal Union did, and concluded with saying that we had taken or got the advantage of the adventurers. I think he first said the former and then hedged off by the latter statement. Mr. Phillips defended, and Mr. Edwards, I thought, seemed staggered, though candid. Mr. Phillips desired the data that he might calculate it over in his way. Mr. Edwards slipped away, but I found afterwards that he was in another room with Capt. Gundry (who, and Hodge also, behaved exceedingly well—I believe Gundry to be a very sincere, honest man). I went out to speak to Joseph, and on my return found only Trevithick, Bevan, Hodge, and some others. Soon after, Mr. Edwards called out Trevithick to him and Gundry. I heard them very loud, and waited their return for an hour; but they not seeming ready to return, night coming on, and feeling myself very uncomfortable, I came away—so know not what passed further. During all this time, I was so confounded with the impudence, ignorance, and overbearing manner of the man that I could make no adequate defence, and indeed could scarcely keep my temper; which however I did, perhaps to a fault; for nothing can be more grievous to an ingenuous mind than the being suspected or accused of deceit. To mend the matter, it had been an exceedingly rainy morning, and I had got a little wet going thither, which had rather hurt my spirits. Yesterday I had a violent headache and could do nothing.... Some means must be taken to satisfy the country, otherwise this malicious man will hurt us exceedingly. The point on which Mr. Edwards seemed to lay the most stress was the comparing with a 77 1⁄10 cylinder, as he alleged they would not have put in so large an engine; and in this there is some reason, as I do not think they believed that the engine would be so powerful as it is. Add to this, that the mine barely pays its way. Trevithick made a great noise about short strokes at setting on, &c. The Captains seemed to laugh at that; and I can demonstrate that, were it allowed for, it would not come to 2s. 6d. per month. I believe they can be brought to allow that they would have put in a 70-inch. Now, query if we ought to allow this to be calculated from a 70 (at which it will come to near 400l. a year), and on making this concession insist on our having a good paymaster to pay regularly once a month, and not be obliged to go like beggars to their accounts to seek our due and be insulted by such scoundrels into the bargain. As to Hallamanin, they have not met yet, and when they do meet, I shall not go to them. I cannot bear such treatment, but it is not prudent to resent it too warmly just now. I believe you must come here. I think fourteen days would settle matters. Besides my inability to battle such people, I really have not time to bestow on them.”[183]
In subsequent letters Watt continued to urge Boulton to come to him. His headaches were constant, unfitting him for work. Besides, he could scarcely stir out of doors for the rain. “It rains here,” said he, “prodigiously. When you come, bring with you a waxed linen cloak for yourself, and another for me, as there is no going out now for a few miles without getting wet to the skin. When it rains in Cornwall, and it rains often, it rains solid.”
