Sadece LitRes`te okuyun

Kitap dosya olarak indirilemez ancak uygulamamız üzerinden veya online olarak web sitemizden okunabilir.

Kitabı oku: «Invention: The Master-key to Progress», sayfa 12

Yazı tipi:

CHAPTER VIII
THE AGE OF STEAM, NAPOLEON AND NELSON

In the early part of the nineteenth century began what has been called the Age of Steam; but before it ended, it was supplanted by the Age of Electricity. When the century opened, the steam engine of Watt existed in a practical and useful form, and the numberless experiments of the physicists in the preceding century had laid bare the main laws governing the force and the expansion of steam and air, and of gases and vapors in general. The laws of the expansion of solids and liquids were also understood in their main features, and the various inventions mentioned in the last chapter were in operation. Seizing on the facilities thus supplied, and noting the worldly success that certain discoverers and inventors had achieved, the inventors of the nineteenth century got speedily to work. The result was that the civilized world at the end of the nineteenth century was vastly different from the civilized world at the end of the eighteenth century.

In general terms, it may be declared that during the first half of the nineteenth century, the principal inventions were in the utilization of heat, especially in the form of steam engines; while during the latter half, the principal inventions were electrical: – though some very important electrical inventions were made before 1850. In this brief résumé, no attempt will be made to describe or even mention all the inventions made, or even all the important ones; for such an attempt would be impossible to carry out. Only a few super-important ones will be mentioned.

The first important successful application of the steam engine was embodied in the steamboat Charlotte Dundas that was produced in Scotland in 1801. Other steamboats had appeared before, but they had not been successful. The first was tried on the Soane River in France in 1781. Later, Fitch and Ramsay made some unsuccessful attempts in the United States. Then, in 1788, Patrick Miller, with the assistance of an engineer named William Symington, had constructed a steam vessel that attained a speed of five knots on a lake in Scotland. In the next year, Mr. Miller and Mr. Symington had put another steamboat on the water that developed a speed of nearly seven knots. None of these experiments could be called successful of itself; but the experience gained by them induced Lord Dundas to build the Charlotte Dundas and name it after his daughter. The Charlotte Dundas was a practical success from the start; for, in March, 1802, it towed two vessels of 70 tons each a distance of 19½ miles in six hours, while such a strong wind was blowing from ahead that no other vessel on the canal tried to move to windward.

Whether or not this constituted an actual invention the present author will not attempt to determine, even in his own mind. It is clear, however, that it was the direct issue of several inventions, and that it was the first embodiment in a concrete form of the successful and practical application of steam power to transportation on the water.

The next successful application was made by Robert Fulton, who built the Clermont in 1807. This vessel went into regular service in 1808, plying between New York and Albany, on the Hudson River.

The first steamboat to venture on the ocean was the Phœnix, that made the trip from New York to Delaware Bay by sea in 1808. It was built by Mr. R. L. Stevens, an engineer of Hoboken. If it accomplished nothing else, it supplied a precedent and gave encouragement to inventors everywhere. It made "le premier pas qui coute."

Meanwhile, in June, 1802, Mr. Thomas Wedgwood had published "An Account of a Method of Copying Paintings upon Glass, and of making Profiles by the Agency of Light upon Nitrate of Silver," with observations by Sir Humphry Davy. In the course of his paper, he declared that he had secured profiles of paintings made on glass by throwing the shadows of those paintings on paper covered with a solution of the nitrate; the paper showing the objects delineated in tones that were dark or light inversely as they were in the painting. He also took profiles of natural objects by throwing their shadows on the prepared paper: the parts of the paper covered by the shadows being white, while the parts outside the shadows became dark.

This seems to have been an actual invention, in that it followed a discovery made by Wedgwood that sunlight acted on nitrate of silver, and was the embodiment of an idea, then conceived by him, to utilize his discovery in making profile pictures. His invention was far from perfect, however; the greatest imperfection being the fact that the pictures could not be fixed; because, unless the paper was ever afterward kept away from the light, its whole surface would become dark, and the picture therefore cease to exist. In consequence, it aroused almost no interest whatever at the time. In 1814, M. Niepce invented a process that he called "heliography," by which he made pictures on silvered copper covered with a thin solution of asphaltum. In 1829, Daguerre and Niepce entered into a copartnership for developing heliography, and instituted experiments that led Daguerre to inventing the daguerreotype, made by a process quite new in detail, but based on the earlier inventions of both Wedgwood and Niepce. The daguerreotype was followed in 1850 by the present "photograph."

The invention of electroplating was made by Brugnatelli in Italy in 1803. The fact that electric currents could decompose certain liquids had been known since 1800, and also the further fact that oxygen and hydrogen, acids and alkalies, appeared at the positive and negative poles respectively of the wires in contact with the liquid. But Brugnatelli seems to have been the first to conceive the idea of utilizing these facts in a device whereby he could deposit metals at will at the negative end of a solution. In the embodiment of his conception, pieces (say of silver) were hung on rods in connection with the positive pole of the battery supplying the electric current, while the articles to be plated with silver were hung on rods connected with the negative pole. The value of this invention and its extensive use in the electrodeposition of metals at the present day are well known.

In the following year, Sir Humphry Davy, working along the general line of electrical decomposition of liquids, made a number of super-brilliant investigations. Possibly the most important result was his discovery of a new metal, to which he gave the name Potassium, formed at the negative pole by the electrical decomposition of moistened caustic potash. He followed this by decomposing caustic soda and discovering another new metal, that he named Sodium.

During the course of his experiments, Davy noted that when the two terminal wires from a large Voltaic battery were touched together and then drawn apart, not only did a spark pass, but a continuous discharge of great brilliancy, that did not cease until the wires were separated by a considerable distance. The extent of this distance was found later to be dependent on the number of cells in the battery. He noted also that the discharge did not follow a straight line, but was bent into an arc; and for this reason he gave it the name, "Voltaic arc." This light is still known by the name "arc light." Its importance does not seem to have been realized until after the dynamo-machine had been invented, and means thereby supplied for providing a greater amount of electric current, and at less expense than Voltaic cells were capable of delivering.

Davy's last great invention was his miner's safety lamp, made in 1816. There had been frequent explosions in the collieries, attended with great loss of life, and Davy was requested to try to ascertain how they could be prevented. After visiting the mines, he had samples of the gas that was found in them sent to him for investigation. He went about the work with scientific thoroughness and system, and ascertained that the gas would not explode if it were mixed with less than six times or more than fourteen times its volume of air; that air rendered impure by the combustion of a candle would not explode the gas; that, if a candle were burnt in a closed vessel, with small openings near the flame, no explosion would take place, even if the vessel were introduced into an explosive mixture; and that the gas from the mines would not explode inside a tube less than 1/8 inch in diameter. These data being secured, Davy conceived the idea of making a lamp in which a small oil light should be fixed and surrounded with a cylinder of wire gauze. He then embodied his conception in a concrete form, and the "Miners' Safety Lamp" resulted.

This was an invention of the first order; original, concrete and highly useful. After meeting the customary chorus of prejudice and opposition, it justified its existence by a quickly established record of effectiveness, and took its place among the useful adjuncts of the machine of civilization.

Meanwhile, several other adjuncts had appeared. Among these was the steel pen, a process of making malleable iron castings, the planing machine, a fireproof safe, the knitting machine and the band wood-saw.

In 1726 Dr. Hales had announced that a gas capable of burning, and giving light while burning, could be distilled from coal. This announcement created great interest, and led to a long series of scientific investigations as to the possibility of utilizing it for house and street illumination, especially by a Mr. Murdock in the latter decade of the century. In 1802 Mr. Murdock made a public display of the result of his labors, by illuminating a factory with gas. In the year 1803–1804 the Lyceum Theatre in London was so lighted, and a year later some extensive cotton mills in Manchester. Public interest was so roused that investigations on a larger scale ensued, which resulted in lighting Westminster Bridge with gas in 1813, and the town of Westminster the following year. In 1816 street lighting by gas was common in London. The lighting of houses by gas followed later, but very slowly.

It is a little difficult to see that there was much invention of an original or brilliant kind involved in the gradual development of the art of illuminating by gas; but it cannot reasonably be denied that a considerable amount of invention must have been done in the aggregate, for the reason that a wholly novel art was created. If it was not invented, how was it brought into being? The best answer probably is that the art was not the result of one brilliant invention followed by others that improved upon it, but was rather the aggregate work of a number of minor inventions, each one of which carried the art forward, but by only one short step.

Other minor inventions produced the locomotive and the railroad. The first steam engines were stationary; but portable engines, now called locomotives, gradually came into being. They were engines mounted on platforms resting on wheels that, in turn, rested on the ground; the revolutions of the engines turning the wheels, and causing the advancement of the whole. In 1807 a wagon-way was laid down on which cars were run to and from a colliery, and this wagon-way passed close in front of a house in which lived a poor family named Stephenson, a member of which was a boy whose Christian name was George. In the following year, the wooden parts were taken up and replaced by a single line of iron rails with sidings. In 1811 a portable engine was constructed for running on these rails, and this was followed by another in the following year. George Stephenson made a locomotive for running on rails in 1814, and followed it by another in 1816, both for hauling coal.

It was now so obvious that locomotives could haul other things than coal, that a railroad was laid down between Manchester and Liverpool, and a prize of £500 was offered for the best engine. On October 6, 1829, the competition was held, though only three engines appeared. The prize was won by Stephenson's locomotive, the Rocket, which attained a speed of 29 miles per hour.

With the locomotive, as with illuminating gas, it is impossible to see any one original or brilliant invention. We do see, however, the result of the superposition on one brilliant invention (that of Hero's steam engine) of a number of minor inventions, and much constructive ingenuity and initiative.

An invention of a higher order had signalized the latter part of the eighteenth century, in the form of a printing press in which the speed of printing was greatly increased by the use of revolving cylinders; one holding the type on its outer surface, and the other covered with leather, the paper passing between, and receiving the printed impression by the pressure exerted between the two cylinders. In order that the type should fit on the curved surface of the cylinder, they were made narrower toward the bottom. The machine was invented by an Englishman named Nicholson. It was never put into practical use; but a machine embodying the revolving cylinder for receiving the force of the impression communicated to the paper, was invented and put into successful use later by a German named König. The type, however, was not put on a cylinder in this machine, but on a flat plate that passed back and forth under the revolving impression cylinder. Two of König's presses were bought for the London Times; and on November 28, 1814, one made 1,100 impressions per hour, a marvelous advance over speeds previously attained. From the standpoint of pure invention, it was not so admirable as Nicholson's; but being a later product, and being based on Nicholson's principle, it was naturally an improvement in construction and mode of operation.

In 1814 Sir David Brewster, while experimenting on the polarization of light, made an invention of the most original and concrete type, which required a high grade of scientific knowledge for its conception and development, but which was not intended for any utilitarian purpose, and yet was of too serious a character to be called a scientific toy. This was his famous kaleidoscope; an instrument described accurately by its name, for it enabled one to see beautiful things. It was very simple in construction and principle, and seems to have fallen short of greatness in only one element, that of usefulness. By a careful adjustment of two prisms at a definite angle to each other, Sir David showed that geometrical images of the utmost beauty and variety could be made of objects placed between the mirrors, especially if those objects were small objects, and if they were of different colors, like bits of colored glass. Knowledge of this escaping, thousands of kaleidoscopes were soon put on the market, and sold in all the principal cities, before Sir David had had time to get a patent. Though the instruments were unscientifically made, they gave beautiful pictures nevertheless; but the result was that the kaleidoscope was not appreciated at its full value. The inventor improved the instrument greatly, and developed it into one of the most beauty-producing appliances known, and one of the most extraordinary and unique. The most remarkable fact connected with it is that no real usefulness for it has ever yet been found. The present author ventures to predict that a clear field of usefulness will some day be found by some fortunate inventor.

Meanwhile, the ill-clad captain of artillery who had invented the plan by which the British were pushed out of Toulon with so much neatness and despatch, had nearly turned the civilized world upside down. No man save Alexander ever accomplished so much of that kind of work in so short a time. His work consisted of a number of acts performed by him, each of which was like his act at Toulon, in that it began with the conception of a brilliant idea, proceeded with the embodiment of the idea in a concrete plan, and ended with the carrying into operation of that plan. Napoleon was great in each of these lines of work. He had a brilliant and yet correct imagination, that enabled him to conceive ideas of extraordinary brilliancy, and also to select from them the ideas that were the most susceptible of being made into concrete plans of the kind that could be carried out successfully. He possessed great constructiveness, that enabled him to construct mentally a plan in which all the means available for his use were seized upon and put to their special tasks. He possessed finally great ardor, industry and courage, that enabled him to start his plan to going very quickly, and keep it going very rapidly, until it had performed its task. It would be idle to discuss at which of these three stages of the work he was the greatest, or to try to decide which stage of the three was the most important; because the three were links in a continual chain, and the chain depended on each equally for its strength: – as any chain does on its links.

It may be interesting, however, to realize that mere imagination is possibly the most elementary activity of the mind; mere imagination is evidenced by savages, for instance, and by children, more than by highly educated men. Constructiveness, on the other hand, is little to be found in savages or children, and is a product of education, and a result of the training of the reasoning faculties. Courage and impulsive energy again are elemental faculties, and are observable more in savages than in the civilized. It seems to be the effect of civilization, therefore, to develop the reasoning faculties, at the expense of both imagination and courage. In fact, it is clearly the effect of civilization to develop a cold and calculating materialism. Men are rare therefore, and have been rare in every age, who combine the three qualities of imagination, constructiveness and courage. Napoleon combined all three in harmonious proportions; and he possessed each one in its most perfect form.

His performance at Toulon was so spectacular that it attracted attention at once, and caused his promotion to the command of the artillery in Italy. Here he was able to suggest projects that received approval and brought successes. One plan conceived and developed by him, however, was disapproved. It consisted essentially of dividing the Piedmontese and Austrians, crushing the Piedmontese, and then driving the Austrians out of Italy into Austria and following them thither. Later, this plan was approved, and he himself was put in command in Italy. It was this plan, executed by the Bonaparte of those days, that began the career of the Napoleon of history. So original and brilliant had been the conception, so mathematically correct and practically feasible had been the plan which Bonaparte developed from it, and so furiously energetic were his operations in carrying out the plan, that the sluggish Piedmontese were defeated before they quite realized that war had been begun. A like catastrophe happened to the equally mentally and physically sluggish Austrians; then another catastrophe, and then another, and then still others; and in such rapid and bewildering succession, that in a year and a month after his arrival in Italy he had driven the Austrians out completely, formed the Cisalpine and Ligurian republics in the north of Italy, and signed the armistice of Leoben with the Austrians, within fifty miles of Vienna.

Napoleon's next invention was a project for ruining England by attacking her East Indian possessions by a campaign beginning with an invasion of Egypt. Everything proceeded in substantial accordance with the plan developed, until August 1, 1798. In the evening of that day the whole project was destroyed by Horatio Nelson.

It was destroyed in a battle near the mouth of the river Nile, that was decided in fifteen minutes, though it was not wholly concluded until it had been raging for nearly four hours. In fifteen minutes, the French fleet on which depended Bonaparte's communications with Europe, had been so severely damaged that the failure of Bonaparte's project was decided.

Nelson was a man like Bonaparte in certain qualities; in the qualities that are essential to great leadership, imagination, constructiveness and executiveness. The first clear evidence of these qualities he had displayed startlingly at the battle of Cape St. Vincent on February 14, 1797; – when, swiftly realizing that two separated parts of the hostile Spanish fleet were about to join, he suddenly conceived the idea of preventing the junction by committing an act that – unless it brought success – would probably cost him his commission and perhaps his life. Now, the mere conception of an idea so revolting to professional ethics would not occur to an unimaginative man: and still less would it be retained. But it did occur to Nelson; and Nelson retained it and looked it squarely in the face. To embody his idea in a practicable plan was a simple matter to his active and trained intelligence, while to execute the plan was an act so natural as to be almost automatic. Much to the amazement of the Commander of the fleet and all the officers and men in both the fleets, the little division commanded by Commodore Nelson was seen actually to leave the line of battle! Nelson had taken his life, his fortune and his sacred honor in his hand, and staked all on an endeavor to get between the two separated parts of the Spanish fleet. The British Commander quickly realized what his daring subordinate had in mind, and speedily came to his relief. A brilliant, though not materially decisive, victory was won. The already distinguished Commander-in-Chief was then made Earl St. Vincent, and the hitherto obscure Horatio Nelson brought into the forefront of naval heroes, with the rank of rear-admiral, a gold medal and a knighthood.

Now, Nelson had not appeared at the mouth of the Nile because of any accident, or any chain of fortuitous circumstances; he did not fight the epochal battle there because of any accidental occurrences or conditions, and he did not gain the victory because of any similar causes. Nelson appeared at the mouth of the Nile in accordance with a plan that he had conceived as soon as he heard of Bonaparte's departure from Toulon on a destination carefully kept secret, but which Nelson divined as Egypt. He so divined it, by imagining himself in Bonaparte's place, and imagining for what purpose he, Nelson, would have left Toulon under the conditions prevailing then in France. He engaged the French fleet when he did, and he fought the French fleet in the way he did, in accordance with a plan that he had conceived long before. No men were ever more cautious, more solicitous about the future, more painstaking, more prudent, more insistent against taking undue risks, than those reputedly reckless devil-may-cares, Napoleon Bonaparte and Horatio Nelson.

Napoleon realized at once that his brilliant scheme had been shattered; but he could not now even take his army home, because the British fleet was in the way. Finally, he succeeded in making the trip himself, with only a few of his staff. Events ran rapidly then; and on the sixth of May, 1800, we see Napoleon leaving Paris to undertake a campaign in northern Italy, in accordance with a plan embodied to carry out an idea conceived in his fertile mind, of taking his army through the great St. Bernard pass, dragging his cannon with him through the snow. This plan (like most of his plans) was so brilliantly conceived, so skillfully planned, and so energetically executed, that when Napoleon suddenly appeared with his army in the North of Italy, the Austrian general was bewildered with amazement. The natural result developed quickly, and the Austrians retired beyond the Mincio River.

By this time affairs in Europe were vastly complicated, because of the fact that the maritime enemies of France (which meant virtually all the other maritime countries of Europe) became exasperated at one of their number, Great Britain, in consequence of what they considered her unreasonable insistence on certain doctrines concerning maritime affairs. A League of Armed Neutrality against her was finally formed, that soon assumed menacing proportions. This league was completely broken by the same Horatio Nelson in a naval battle off Copenhagen on April 2, 1801. This battle was the direct result of a plan conceived by Nelson, that was so original and so daring that for a long time he could not secure the consent of his Commander-in-Chief to its execution. The battle resulted in a victory that was brilliant in the highest degree; but it was brilliant only because the original idea was brilliant, and because it was developed into a plan that was constructively correct and skillfully carried out.

Meanwhile, a brief campaign had been going on between the French and the Austrians in Austria. It was carried on with great brilliancy of conception and skill of execution by Moreau, and ended with the battle of Hohenlinden and the disastrous defeat of the Austrians. The treaty of Lunéville followed in February, 1801, and left Great Britain as France's only antagonist.

The victory of Copenhagen having broken the strength of the Confederacy of Neutrals, and Napoleon seeing the folly of attempting further to ruin British commerce then, the Treaty of Amiens between Great Britain and France followed in March, 1802.

As part of this treaty, Great Britain agreed to give up Malta. For various reasons that do not concern this discussion, Great Britain did not do so, and war followed in May, 1803.

Before that time, Napoleon had realized that his principal enemy was England. He now conceived the project of sending an invading army across the English Channel, knowing that if he could accomplish that, he could march to London, and dictate his own terms of peace. But how could he get across the channel, in the face of the British fleet? From the numberless pictures conjured up in his brilliant imagination, Napoleon selected the one which showed a French fleet threatening British possessions in the West Indies, a British fleet rushing to the West Indies to save them, the French fleet returning and joining with another French fleet waiting for it, then the combined fleets securing the mastery of the English Channel from the depleted British fleet remaining, then a French flotilla of transports with an invading army forthwith starting across the channel, then a landing against an opposition easily overcome, then a march to London, then a capture of London: and finally, he, Napoleon, riding in triumph through London streets and sleeping in the palace at London – as he had slept in other palaces on the Continent.

It was a beautiful vision; – a beautiful series of moving pictures presented to his imagination. To embody all these pictures in realities became the pre-occupation of his waking and his sleeping hours. By dint of herculean exertions, he finally collected near Boulogne about 200,000 troops and 1,500 transports. At the proper time, Villeneuve, with a powerful fleet, was sent to the West Indies to threaten the British possessions there.

But the same man who had spoiled his India project by the battle of the Nile, and who had spoiled his project of ruining British commerce by the battle of Copenhagen, spoiled his present project: the same man, Horatio Nelson. Nelson had some imagination himself; and he imagined (correctly as usual) that Villeneuve had sailed for the West Indies – and away he went in pursuit. Arriving there, and finding that Villeneuve had been in the West Indies but had left, Nelson left also. He imagined that Villeneuve had sailed for Europe; and so Nelson sailed for Europe also, sending a fast frigate to inform the Admiralty of all that he had learned, and of all that he inferred. The frigate made such speed, and the First Lord of the Admiralty, Admiral Lord Barham, acted with such sailor-like energy and skill, that a large British fleet intercepted Villeneuve on his return, brought him to action near the coast of Spain, and handled him so roughly that he went for repairs to Cadiz. He arrived there on August 20.

The news of this, reaching Napoleon, wiped all the beautiful pictures out of his mind. But he had other pictures in the background. These he put promptly into the foreground, and started off with incredible swiftness toward Austria. On October 19, he brought the Austrians to battle near Ulm, and achieved one of the most decisive victories of his career. The victory was mainly due to the clearness and correctness of Napoleon's conceived idea, and the amazing speed and certainty of his movements in carrying it into execution. The Austrian General Mack was so wholly taken by surprise that he found his army was completely surrounded before he had had time to take any preventive measures.

Napoleon had correctly judged the import of Villeneuve's interception by the British fleet, and realized that it would be mere folly afterward to attempt to cross the channel then. Still, the situation was not wholly bad for him, and the victory at Ulm made it beautiful. For, though England was still greater on the sea than France, France was also great, and was still a powerful weapon which he could wield against England, with all the power of genius. But, two days after the victory of Ulm, came the disaster near Cape Trafalgar, when Nelson defeated the combined French and Spanish fleets, and thereby secured for England a superiority at sea, vastly more pronounced than it had been before. This victory, by making Napoleon helpless at sea against Great Britain, ruined all Napoleon's chances of dominion, except upon the Continent.

Napoleon made two brilliant campaigns after this, that brought him to the summit of his career. Had he been content to stop there, had he not tried to climb still higher, his descendants might now sit on the throne of France. But the intoxicating fumes of success seem to have clouded that brilliant mind, and to have prevented those clear and correct pictures from forming there that had formed before. The result was that he embarked on a new project for ruining England that began with an invasion of Portugal and Spain, which brought on a war with Austria. It is true that, by a brilliant campaign, Napoleon worsted Austria and made an advantageous treaty with her, and then married the daughter of the emperor: but the continuance of the policy that underlay the war with Austria, brought on later a war with Russia that sent Napoleon to Elba, an exile.