That was the scene of William Murdock's boyhood. When a boy, he herded his father's cows along the banks of the Bellow; and as there were then no hedges, it was necessary to have some one to watch the cattle while grazing. The spot is still pointed out where the boy, in the intervals of his herding, hewed a square compartment out of the rock by the water side, and there burnt the splint coal found on the top of the Black Band ironstone. That was one of the undeveloped industries of Scotland; for the Scotch iron trade did not arrive at any considerable importance until about a century later.[3] The little cavern in which Murdock burnt the splint coal was provided with a fireplace and vent, all complete. It is possible that he may have there derived, from his experiments, the first idea of Gas as an illuminant.
Murdock is also said to have made a wooden horse, worked by mechanical power, which was the wonder of the district. On this mechanical horse he rode to the village of Cumnock, about two miles distant. His father's name is, however, associated with his own in the production of this machine. Old John Murdock had a reputation for intelligence and skill of no ordinary kind. When at Carron ironworks, in 1760, he had a pinton cast after a pattern which he had prepared. This is said to have been the first piece of iron-toothed gearing ever used in mill work. When I last saw it, the pinton was placed on the lawn in front of William Murdock's villa at Handsworth.
The young man helped his father in many ways. He worked in the mill, worked on the farm, and assisted in the preparation of mill machinery. In this way he obtained a considerable amount of general technical knowledge. He even designed and constructed bridges. He was employed to build a bridge over the river Nith, near Dumfries, and it stands there to this day, a solid and handsome structure. But he had an ambition to be something more than a country mason. He had heard a great deal about the inventions of James Watt; and he determined to try whether he could not get "a job" at the famous manufactory at Soho. He accordingly left his native place in the year 1777, in the twenty-third year of his age; and migrated southward. He left plenty of Murdocks behind him. There was a famous staff in the family, originally owned by William Murdock's grandfather, which bore the following inscription: "This staff I leave in pedigree to the oldest Murdock after me, in the parish of Auchenleck, 1745." This staff was lately held by Jean Murdock, daughter of the late William Murdock, joiner, cousin of the subject of this biography.
When William arrived at Soho in 1777 he called at the works to ask for employment. Watt was then in Cornwall, looking after his pumping engines; but he saw Boulton, who was usually accessible to callers of every rank. In answer to Murdock's enquiry whether he could have a job, Boulton replied that work was very slack with them, and that every place was filled up. During the brief conversation that took place, 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 attracted 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; "what is it made of?" "Timmer, sir," said Murdock, modestly. "Timmer? Do you mean to say that it is made of wood?" "'Deed it is, sir." "And pray how was it made?" "I made it mysel, sir, in a bit laithey of my own contrivin'." "Indeed!"
Boulton looked at the young man again. He had risen a hundred degrees in his estimation. William was a good-looking fellow—tall, strong, and handsome—with an open intelligent countenance. Besides, he had been able to turn a hat for himself with a lathe of his own construction. This, of itself, was a sufficient proof that he was a mechanic of no mean skill. "Well!" said Boulton, at last, "I will enquire at the works, and see if there is anything we can set you to. Call again, my man."
"Thank you, sir," said Murdock, giving a final twirl to his hat.
Such was the beginning of William Murdock's connection with the firm of Boulton and Watt. When he called again he was put upon a trial job, and then, as he was found satisfactory, he was engaged for two years at 15s. a week when at home, 17s. when in the country, and 18s. when in London. Boulton's engagement of Murdock was amply justified by the result. Beginning as an ordinary mechanic, he applied himself diligently and conscientiously to his work, and gradually became trusted. More responsible duties were confided to him, and he strove to perform them to the best of his power. His industry, skilfulness, and steady sobriety, 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.
Watt himself had little confidence in Scotchmen as mechanics. He told Sir Waiter Scott that though many of them sought employment at his works, he could never get any of them to become first-rate workmen. They might be valuable as clerks and book-keepers, but they had an insuperable aversion to toiling long at any point of mechanism, so as to earn the highest wages paid to the workmen.[4] The reason no doubt was, that the working-people of Scotland were then only in course of education as practical mechanics; and now that they have had a century's discipline of work and technical training, the result is altogether different, as the engine-shops and shipbuilding-yards of the Clyde abundantly prove. Mechanical power and technical ability are the result of training, like many other things.
When Boulton engaged Murdock, as we have said, Watt was absent in Cornwall, looking after the pumping-engines which had been erected at several of the mines throughout that county. The partnership had only been in existence for three years, and Watt was still struggling with the difficulties which he had to surmount in getting the steam engine into practical use. His health was bad, and he was oppressed with frightful headaches. He was not the man to fight the selfishness of the Cornish adventurers. "A little more of this hurrying and vexation," he said, "will knock me up altogether." Boulton went to his help occasionally, and gave him hope and courage. And at length William Murdock, after he had acquired sufficient knowledge of the business, was able to undertake the principal management of the engines in Cornwall.
We find that in 1779, when he was only twenty-five years old, he was placed in this important position. When he went into Cornwall, he gave himself no rest until he had conquered the defects of the engines, and put them into thorough working order.