Stories of Invention, Told by Inventors and their Friends Part 20

But there was yet one thing wanting. He had now succeeded in producing the purest malleable iron ever made, and that, too, by a quicker and less expensive process than was ever known before. But what he wanted was to make steel. The former is iron in its greatest possible purity; the latter is pure iron containing a small percentage of carbon to harden it. There has been an almost endless controversy in trying to make a definition that will fix the dividing line that separates the one metal from the other.[24]

For our present purpose, suffice it to quote the account given in a popular treatise on metallurgy, published at the time when Bessemer was in the midst of his experiments. "Wrought iron," it says, "or soft iron, may contain no carbon; and if perfectly pure, would contain none, nor indeed any other impurity. This is a state to be desired and aimed at, but it has never yet been perfectly attained in practice. The best as well as the commonest foreign irons always contain more or less carbon.... Carbon may exist in iron in the ratio of 65 parts to 10,000 without a.s.suming the properties of steel. If the proportion be greater than that, and anywhere between the limits of 65 parts of carbon to 10,000 parts of iron and 2 parts of carbon to 100 of iron, the alloy a.s.sumes the properties of steel. In cast iron the carbon exceeds 2 per cent, but in appearance and properties it differs widely from the hardest steel. These properties, although we quote them, are somewhat doubtful; and the chemical const.i.tution of these three substances may, perhaps, be regarded as still undetermined." Now, in the Bessemer converter the carbon was almost entirely consumed. In the small gun just described,[25] there were only 14 parts of carbon for 1,000,000 parts of iron. Bessemer's next difficulty was to carburize his pure iron, and thus to make it into steel. "The wrought iron," says Mr. I. L. Bell, "as well as the steel made according to Sir Henry Bessemer's original plan, though a purer specimen of metal was never heard of except in the laboratory, was simply worthless. In this difficulty, a ray of scientific truth, brought to light one hundred years before, came to the rescue. Bergmann was one of the earliest philosophers who discarded all theory, and introduced into chemistry that process of a.n.a.lysis which is the indispensable antecedent of scientific system. This Swedish experimenter had ascertained the existence of manganese in the iron of that country, and connected its presence with suitability for steel purposes." Manganese is a kind of iron exceptionally rich in carbon, and also exceptionally free from other impurities. Berzelius, Rinman, Karsten, Berthier, and other metallurgists had before now discussed its effect when combined with ordinary iron; and the French were so well aware that ferro-manganese ores were superior for steel-making purposes that they gave them the name of _mines d'acier_. So Bessemer, after many experiments, discovered a method whereby, with the use of ferro-manganese, he could make what is known as mild steel. The process of manufacture, when described by Sir Henry Bessemer at Cheltenham in 1856,[26] was so nearly complete, that only two important additions were made afterwards. One was the introduction of the ferro-manganese for the purpose of imparting to his pure liquid iron the properties of "mild steel." The other was an improvement in the mechanical apparatus. He found that when the air had been blown into the iron till all the carbon was expelled, the continuance of "the blow" afterward consumed the iron at a very rapid rate, and a great loss of iron thus took place. It was therefore necessary to cease blowing at a particular moment. At first he saw no practical way by which he could prevent the metal going into the air-holes in the bottom of the vessel below the level of the liquid ma.s.s, so as to stop them up immediately on ceasing to force the air through them; for if he withdrew the pressure of air, the whole apparatus would be destroyed for a time. Here, again, his inventive genius found a remedy. He had the converter holding the molten iron mounted on an axis, which enabled him at any moment he liked to turn it round and to bring the holes above the level of the metal; whenever this was done the process of conversion or combustion ceased of itself, and the apparatus had only to be turned back again in order to resume the operation. This turning on an axis of a furnace weighing eleven tons, and containing five tons of liquid metal, at a temperature scarcely approachable, was a system entirely different from anything that had preceded it; for it he took out what he considered one of his most important patents, "and," he says, "I am vain enough to believe that so long as my process lasts, the motion of the vessel containing the fluid on its axis will be retained as an absolute necessity for any form which the process may take at any future time." The patent for this invention was taken out about four years after his original patent for the converter.

Uncle Fritz showed them a picture of this gigantic kettle, which holds this ma.s.s of molten metal and yet turns so easily.

"But," said Helen, "you have a model of it here, Uncle Fritz." And she pointed to her Uncle Fritz's inkstand, which is something the shape of a fat beet-root, with the point turned up to receive the ink. Uncle Fritz nodded his approval. These inkstands, which turn over on a little brazen axis, were probably first made by some one who had seen the great eleven-ton converters.

Uncle Fritz showed the children the picture in the "Practical Magazine,"

and they spent some time together in looking over the pages of the volume for 1876.

The Bessemer process was now perfect. Nearly four years had elapsed since its conception and first application; and in addition to the necessary labor and anxiety he had experienced, no less than 20,000 had been expended in making experiments that were necessary to complete its success. It only remained to bring the process into general use.

The young people asked quite eagerly whether they could see the processes of "conversion" anywhere, and were glad to be told that Bessemer steel is made in many parts of America. One of their young friends, who was educated at the "Technology," is in charge of a department at Steelton, in Pennsylvania, and they have all written letters to him.

The American steel-makers have a great variety of ores to choose from, and they have found it possible, by using different ores, to avoid the difficulties which Mr. Bessemer first met in using the ores of England.

And so far are the processes now simplified, that in many American establishments the molten iron is received liquid from the blast furnaces, and does not have to be reduced a second time in a cupola furnace, as was the iron used by Mr. Bessemer. There is no cooling, in such establishments, between the ore and the finished steel.

XIV.

THE LAST MEETING.

GOODYEAR.

When the day for the next meeting came, Uncle Fritz had a large collection of books and magazines in the little rolling racks and tables where such things are kept. But no one of them was opened.

No. The young people appeared in great strength, all at the same moment, and notified him that he was to put on his hat and his light overcoat, and go with them on what they called the first "Alp" of the season. For there is a pretence in the little company that they are an Alpine Club, and that for eight months of the year it is their duty to climb the highest mountains near Boston.

Now, the very highest of these peaks is the summit hill of the Blue Hills, to which indeed Ma.s.sachusetts owes its name. For "Matta" in the Algonquin tongue meant "great," and "Chuset" meant "a hill." And a woman who was living on a little hummock near Squantum, just before Winthrop and the rest landed, was the sacred Sachem of the Ma.s.sachusetts Indians.

Hence the name of Mattachusetts Bay; and then, by euphony or bad spelling, or both, Ma.s.sachusetts.

Uncle Fritz obeyed the rabble rout, as he is apt to do. He retired for a minute to put on heavier shoes, and, when he reappeared, he took the seat of honor in the leading omnibus. And a very merry expedition they had to the summit, where, as the accurate Fergus told them, they were six hundred feet above the level of the sea. There was but little wood, and they were able to lie and sit in a large group on the ground just on the lee side of the hill, where they could look off on the endless sea.

"Whom should you have told us about, had it rained?" said Mabel Fordyce.

"Oh! you were to have had your choice. There are still left many inventors. I had looked at Mr. Parton's Life of Goodyear, and the very curious brief prepared for the court about his patents. Half of you would not be here to-day but for that ingenious and long-suffering man."

"Should not I have come?" said Gertrude, incredulously.

"Surely not," said Uncle Fritz, laughing. "I saw your water-proof in your shawl-strap. I know your mamma well enough to know that you would never have been permitted to come so far from home without that aegis, or without those trig, pretty overshoes. You owe waterproof and overshoes both to the steady perseverance of Goodyear and to the loyal help of his wife and daughters. Some day you must read Mr. Webster's eulogy on him and them. Indeed, he is the American Palissy. You hear a good deal of woman's rights; but, really, modern women had no rights worth speaking of till Mr. Goodyear enabled them to go out-doors in all weathers.

"I meant we should have an afternoon with the Goodyears. Then I meant that you should know, Gertrude, where that slice of bread came from."

"Well," said she, "I do not know much, but I do know that. It came out of the bread-box."

"Very good," said the Colonel, laughing. "But somebody put it into the bread-box. And it is quite as well that you should know who put it in.

American girls and American boys ought to know that men's prayer for 'Daily Bread' is answered more and more largely every year. They ought to know why. Well, the great reason is that reaping and binding after the reapers, nay, that sowing the corn, and every process between sowing and harvest, has been wellnigh perfected by the American inventors. So I had wanted to give a day or two to reapers and binders, and the other machinery of harvesting. Indeed, if our winter had been as long as poor Captain Greely's was, and if you had met me every week, we should have had a new invention for each one. Here are the telephone and the telegraph. Here is the use of the electric light. Here is the sewing-machine, with all its nice details, like the b.u.t.ton-hole maker.

Nay, every b.u.t.ton is made by its own machinery. Here are carpets one quarter cheaper than they were only four years ago; cotton cloths made more by machinery and less by hand labor; nay, they tell us that the cotton is to be picked by a machine before long.

"But these are things you must work up for yourselves. You are on a good track now, and have learned some of the principles of such study.

"Go to the originals whenever you can. Read what you understand, and fall back on what you did not understand at first, so as to try it again."

"Do you not think that all the great things have been invented, Uncle Fritz?"

This was John Angier's rather melancholy question.

"Not a bit of it, my boy. Certainly not for as keen eyes as yours and as handy hands. Let me tell you what I heard President Dawson say. He is President of McGill University, and is counted one of the first physical philosophers in America.

"He said this in substance: 'What will future times say of us, the men of the end of the nineteenth century? They will say, "What was the ban on those men, what numbed them or held them still, as if in fear? Why did they not apply in daily life their own great discoveries of the central laws of Nature? They were able to work out principles. Why could they not embody them in useful inventions? They discovered the Ocean of Truth, but they stood frightened on its sh.o.r.e. They found the great principles of science, and for their application they seem to have been satisfied when they had built the steam-engine, had devised the telegraph, the telephone, the phonograph, and when they had set the electric light a blazing."'

"You see, John, that he thinks there is enough more for you and the rest to invent and to discover."

Then Uncle Fritz took from his ulster pocket Mr. Parton's volume of biographical sketches.

"It is all very fine for you, Miss Alice," he said, "to lie there on your waterproof, and to be sure that even mamma will not scold when you go home. But take the book, and read, and see who has wept and who has starved that you might lie there."

And Alice read the pa.s.sages he had marked for her.

The difficulty of all this may be inferred when we state that at the present time it takes an intelligent man a year to learn how to conduct the process with certainty, though he is provided, from the start, with the best implements and appliances which twenty years' experience has suggested. And poor Goodyear had now reduced himself, not merely to poverty, but to isolation. No friend of his could conceal his impatience when he heard him p.r.o.nounce the word "India-rubber." Business-men recoiled from the name of it. He tells us that two entire years pa.s.sed, after he had made his discovery, before he had convinced one human being of its value. Now, too, his experiments could no longer be carried on with a few pounds of India-rubber, a quart of turpentine, a phial of aquafortis, and a little lampblack. He wanted the means of producing a high, uniform, and controllable degree of heat,--a matter of much greater difficulty than he antic.i.p.ated. We catch brief glimpses of him at this time in the volumes of testimony. We see him waiting for his wife to draw the loaves from her oven, that he might put into it a batch of India-rubber to bake, and watching it all the evening, far into the night, to see what effect was produced by one hour's, two hours', three hours', six hours' baking. We see him boiling it in his wife's saucepans, suspending it before the nose of her teakettle, and hanging it from the handle of that vessel to within an inch of the boiling water. We see him roasting it in the ashes and in hot sand, toasting it before a slow fire and before a quick fire, cooking it for one hour and for twenty-four hours, changing the proportions of his compound and mixing them in different ways. No success rewarded him while he employed only domestic utensils. Occasionally, it is true, he produced a small piece of perfectly vulcanized India-rubber; but upon subjecting other pieces to precisely the same process, they would blister or char.

Then we see him resorting to the shops and factories in the neighborhood of Woburn, asking the privilege of using an oven after working hours, or of hanging a piece of India-rubber in the "man-hole" of the boiler.

The foremen testify that he was a great plague to them, and smeared their works with his sticky compound; but though they regarded him as little better than a troublesome lunatic, they all appear to have helped him very willingly. He frankly confesses that he lived at this time on charity; for although _he_ felt confident of being able to repay the small sums which pity for his family enabled him to borrow, his neighbors who lent him the money were as far as possible from expecting payment. Pretending to lend, they meant to give. One would pay his butcher's bill or his milk-bill; another would send in a barrel of flour; another would take in payment some articles of the old stock of India-rubber; and some of the farmers allowed his children to gather sticks in their fields to heat his hillocks of sand containing ma.s.ses of sulphurized India-rubber. If the people of New England were not the most "neighborly" people in the world, his family must have starved, or he must have given up his experiments. But, with all the generosity of his neighbors, his children were often sick, hungry, and cold, without medicine, food, or fuel. One witness testifies: "I found, in 1839, that they had not fuel to burn nor food to eat, and did not know where to get a morsel of food from one day to another, unless it was sent in to them." We can neither justify nor condemn their father. Imagine Columbus within sight of the new world, and his obstinate crew declaring it was only a mirage, and refusing to row him ash.o.r.e. Never was mortal man surer that he had a fortune in his hand, than Charles Goodyear was when he would take a piece of scorched and dingy India-rubber from his pocket and expound its marvellous properties to a group of incredulous villagers. Sure also was he that he was just upon the point of a practicable success. Give him but an oven and would he not turn you out fire-proof and cold-proof India-rubber, as fast as a baker can produce loaves of bread? Nor was it merely the hope of deliverance from his pecuniary straits that urged him on. In all the records of his career, we perceive traces of something n.o.bler than this. His health being always infirm, he was haunted with the dread of dying before he had reached a point in his discoveries where other men, influenced by ordinary motives, could render them available.

By the time that he had exhausted the patience of the foremen of the works near Woburn, he had come to the conclusion that an oven was the proper means of applying heat to his compound. An oven he forthwith determined to build. Having obtained the use of a corner of a factory yard, his aged father, two of his brothers, his little son, and himself sallied forth, with pickaxe and shovels, to begin the work; and when they had done all that unskilled labor could effect towards it, he induced a mason to complete it, and paid him in brick-layers' ap.r.o.ns made of aquafortized India-rubber. This first oven was a tantalizing failure. The heat was neither uniform nor controllable. Some of the pieces of India-rubber would come out so perfectly "cured" as to demonstrate the utility of his discovery; but others, prepared in precisely the same manner, as far as he could discern, were spoiled, either by blistering or charring. He was puzzled and distressed beyond description; and no single voice consoled or encouraged him. Out of the first piece of cloth which he succeeded in vulcanizing he had a coat made for himself, which was not an ornamental garment in its best estate; but, to prove to the unbelievers that it would stand fire, he brought it so often in contact with hot stoves, that at last it presented an exceedingly dingy appearance. His coat did not impress the public favorably, and it served to confirm the opinion that he was laboring under a mania.

In the midst of his first disheartening experiments with sulphur, he had an opportunity of escaping at once from his troubles. A house in Paris made him an advantageous offer for the use of his aquafortis process.

From the abyss of his misery the honest man promptly replied, that that process, valuable as it was, was about to be superseded by a new method, which he was then perfecting, and as soon as he had developed it sufficiently he should be glad to close with their offers. Can we wonder that his neighbors thought him mad?

It was just after declining the French proposal that he endured his worst extremity of want and humiliation. It was in the winter of 1839-40; one of those long and terrible snowstorms for which New England is noted, had been raging for many hours, and he awoke one morning to find his little cottage half buried in snow, the storm still continuing, and in his house not an atom of fuel nor a morsel of food. His children were very young, and he was himself sick and feeble. The charity of his neighbors was exhausted, and he had not the courage to face their reproaches. As he looked out of the window upon the dreary and tumultuous scene,--"fit emblem of his condition," he remarks,--he called to mind that a few days before, an acquaintance, a mere acquaintance, who lived some miles off, had given him upon the road a more friendly greeting than he was then accustomed to receive. It had cheered his heart as he trudged sadly by, and it now returned vividly to his mind.

To this gentleman he determined to apply for relief, if he could reach his house. Terrible was his struggle with the wind and the deep drifts.

Often he was ready to faint with fatigue, sickness, and hunger, and he would be obliged to sit down upon a bank of snow to rest. He reached the house and told his story, not omitting the oft-told tale of his new discovery,--that mine of wealth, if only he could procure the means of working it. The eager eloquence of the inventor was seconded by the gaunt and yellow face of the man. His generous acquaintance entertained him cordially, and lent him a sum of money, which not only carried his family through the worst of the winter, but enabled him to continue his experiments on a small scale. O. B. Coolidge, of Woburn, was the name of this benefactor.

On another occasion, when he was in the most urgent need of materials, he looked about his house to see if there was left one relic of better days upon which a little money could be borrowed. There was nothing but his children's school-books,--the last things from which a New Englander is willing to part. There was no other resource. He gathered them up, and sold them for five dollars, with which he laid in a fresh stock of gum and sulphur, and kept on experimenting.

Alice and Hester looked over the rest of the story while the others packed up the wrecks of the picnic and prepared to go down the hill.

Then they joined Uncle Fritz in the advance, and thanked him very seriously for what he had shown them.

"Such a story as that," said Hester, "is worth more than anything about cut-offs or valves."