The old-fashioned, plain cylinder boiler is a plain cylindrical pot over the fire. If enough plain cylinder boilers presenting the requisite number of square feet of absorbing surface are put into a cotton mill, experience has shown that they will make a yard of cotton cloth about as cheaply as tubular boilers. If this is so, why do not all put them in? Because it is the crudest and most expensive form of boiler when its enormous area of ground, brickwork, and its fittings are considered. Not all have the money or the room for them. To produce space, the area is drawn in sidewise and lengthwise, but we must have the necessary amount of square feet of absorbing surface, consequently the boiler is doubled up, so to speak, and we have a "flue boiler." We draw in sidewise and lengthwise once more and double up the surface again, and that is a "tubular boiler." That includes all the "mystery" on that subject.
Now, we find among the mills, just as I imagine we should upon the railroads, that the almost universal tendency is to put in too small boilers and furnaces. To skimp at boilers is to spend at the coal yard. Small boilers mean heavy and over-deep fires, and rapid destruction of apparatus. In sugar houses you will see this frequently illustrated, and will find 16 inch fires upon their grates.
We have found that, as we could persuade mill owners to put in more boilers and extend their furnaces, so that coal could be burned moderately and time for combustion afforded, we often saved as high as 1,000 tons in a yearly consumption of 4,000.
Now, when the ordinary locomotive sends particles of coal into the cars in which I am riding, I do not think it would be unfair criticism to say that the process of combustion was not properly carried out. When we see dense volumes of gas emitted from the stack, it is evident that a portion of the hard dollars which were paid for the coal are being uselessly thrown into the air; and it will be well to remember that only a little of the unburnt gas is visible to the eye.
One point I wish to make is this: We find, as I have said, that as we spread out with boilers and furnaces in the mills, so that we can take matters deliberately, we save money.
Now, coming again to locomotives. I think, if we examine the subject carefully, the fact will strike us a little curiously. The first locomotive built in Philadelphia weighed about 14 tons. Judging from the cut I have seen, I should think her furnace might have been 30 inches square. We have gone from that little 14 ton engine to machines of 50 and 60 tons—perhaps more. The engines have been increased over four times, but I will ask you if the furnace areas have been increased (applause) in proportion? Some of the furnaces of the engines are six feet by three, but that is an increase of less than 3 to 1 of furnace, as against 4 to 1 of weight of engine.
When my attention was first called to this matter, I had supposed, as most people do who are outside of the railway profession, that there was something subtile and mysterious about railway engineering that none but those brought up to the business could understand. Possibly it is so, and I am merely making suggestions for what they are worth, but I think the position I have taken in this matter was established by some experiments of three weeks' duration, which I conducted between Milan and Como, in Italy, for the Italian government, in pulling freight trains up grades of 100 feet to the mile. The experiments were made with an engine built by the Reading Railroad.
We competed with English, French, Belgian, and Austrian engines. These machines required the best of fuel to perform the mountain service, and could use coal dust only when it was pressed into brick. We used in the Reading Railroad machine different fuels upon different days, making the road trip of 120 miles each day with one kind of fuel. We used coal dust scraped up in the yards, also the best Cardiff coal, anthracite, and five kinds of Italian lignite, the best of which possesses about half the combustible value of coal.
The results in drawing heavy freight trains were equally good with each fuel, the engine having at all times an abundance of steam on heavy grades, no smoke nor cinders, and no collection of cinders in the forward part of the engine.
The fireman arranged his fires at a station, and did little or nothing except to smoke his pipe and enjoy the scenery until he reached the next station. An incident occurred to prove that we were not playing with the machine. They told me one morning that we should be given a load of 25 per cent less than the maximum load of an engine of her class (30 tons). We started up the 100 foot grade, and found we could barely crawl, and our engineer got furious over it. He thought they were repeating a trick already attempted by screwing down a brake in ascending a grade. We detected it, however, and found a pair of wheels nearly red hot. Upon this occasion we found nothing amiss, except full cars where they had reported only a light load. We pulled to the top of the hill, the steam blowing off furiously all the time.