Lives of Boulton and Watt by Samuel Smiles: Chapter 22

Watt's House, Heathfield

Boulton's Monument in Handsworth Church

CHAPTER XXII. DECLINING YEARS OF BOULTON AND WATT - BEREAVEMENTS - GREGORY WATT - DEATH OF BOULTON.

On the dissolution of the original partnership between Boulton and Watt at the expiry of the patent in 1800, Boulton was seventy-two years old, and Watt sixty- four. The great work of their life had been done, and the time was approaching when they must needs resign into other hands the great branches of industry which they had created. Watt, though the younger of the two, was the first to withdraw from an active share in the concerns of Soho. He could scarcely be said to taste the happiness of life until he had cast business altogether behind him.

It was far different with Boulton, to whom active occupation had become a second nature. For several years, indeed, his constitution had been showing signs of giving way, and nature was repeating her warnings, at shorter recurring intervals, that it was time to retire. But in the case of men such as Boulton, with whom business has become a habit and necessity, as well as a pleasure and recreation, to retire is often to die. He himself was accustomed to say that he must either "rub or rust" and as the latter was contrary to his nature, he rubbed on to the end, continuing to take an active interest in the working of the great manufactory which it had been the ambition of his life to build up.

The department of business that most interested him in his later years was the coinage. His chief pleasure consisted in seeing his new and beautiful pieces following each other in quick succession from the Soho Mint. Nor did he cease occupying himself with new inventions; for we find him as late as 1797 taking out a patent for raising water by impulse, somewhat after the manner of Montgolier's Hydraulic Ram, to which he added many ingenious improvements. His house at Soho continued to be the resort of distinguished visitors and his splendid hospitality never failed. But, as years advanced and his infirmities increased, we find him occasionally expressing a desire for quiet. He would then retire to Cheltenham for the benefit of the waters, requesting his young partners to keep him advised from time to time of the proceedings at Soho. Thus we find young Watt writing him during his absence on one occasion,— "Everything is going on well here: the Mint works six presses at present with ease; but, unless you have secured a supply of copper, fear they will soon work out the present stock." The same letter his young friend advised him that he had duly despatched the chemical apparatus; for even at Cheltenham Boulton could not be idle, but undertook a careful analysis of all the waters of the place, the results of which he entered, in minute detail, in his memorandum-books.

An alarming incident occurred at Soho towards the end of 1800, which is worthy of passing notice, as illustrative of Boulton's vigour and courage even at this advanced period of his life. A large gang of Birmingham housebreakers, knowing the treasures accumulated in the silver-plate house, determined to break into it and carry off the silver, as well as the large sum of money usually accumulated in the counting-house for the purpose of paying the wages of the workmen, upwards of 600 in number, on Christmas Eve. They had provided false keys for most of the doors, and bribed the watchman, who communicated the plot to Boulton, to admit them within the gates. He took his steps accordingly, arming a number of men, and stationing them in different parts of the building.

The robbers made the attempt on three several occasions. On the first night they tried their keys on the counting-house door, but failed to open it, on which they shut their dark lantern and retired. Boulton sent an account of the proceedings each night to his daughter in London. On the first attempt being made, he wrote,— "The best news I can send you is that we are all alive but I have lost my voice and found a troublesome cough by the agreeable employment of thief-watching." Two nights after, the burglars came again, with altered keys, but still they could not open the counting-house door. The third night they determined to waive art, and break in by force. They were allowed to break in and seize their booty, and were making oft with 150 guineas and a load of silver, when Boulton gave the word to seize them. A quantity of tow soaked with turpentine was instantly set fire to, numerous lights were turned on, and the robbers found themselves surrounded on all sides by armed men. Four of them were taken after a desperate struggle; but the fifth, though severely wounded, contrived to escape over the tops of the houses in Brook-row.

Writing to his friend Dumergue, in London, of the exploit, Boulton said,— "You know I seldom do things by halves; so I have sent the four desperate wolves to Stafford Gaol, and I believe the fifth is much wounded. If I had made my attack with a less powerful army than I did, we should probably have had a greater list of killed and wounded." It was in allusion to this exploit that Sir Walter Scott said of Boulton to Allan Cunningham, "I like Boulton; he is a brave man, and who can dislike the brave?" The incident, when communicated to Scott during one of his visits to Soho, is said to have suggested the scene in ‘Guy Mannering,’ in which the attack is made on Dirk Hatterick in the smuggler’s cave.

With Watt, occupation in business was not the necessity that it was to Boulton and he was only too glad to get rid of it and engage in those quiet pursuits in which he found most pleasure. In the year 1790, he removed from the house he had so long occupied on Harper's Hill, to a new and comfortable house which he had built for himself at Heathfield in the parish of Handsworth, where he continued to live until the close of his life. The land surrounding the place was, until then, common, and he continued to purchase the lots as they were offered for sale, until, by the year 1794, he had enclosed about forty acres. He took pleasure in laying out the grounds, planting many of the trees with his own bands and in course of time, as the trees reached maturity, the formerly barren heath became converted into a retreat of great rural beauty.

Annexed to the house, in the back yard, he built a forge, and upstairs, in his "Garret," he fitted up a workshop, in which he continued to pursue his mechanical studies and experiments for many years. While Watt was settling himself for the remainder of his life in the house at Heathfield, Boulton was erecting his large new Mint at Soho, which was completed and ready for use in 1791.

When the lawsuits, which had given Watt so much anxiety, were satisfactorily disposed of, an immense load was removed from his mind and he indulged in the anticipation of at last enjoying the fruits of his labour in peace. Being of frugal habits, he had already begun to save money, and indeed accumulated as much as he desired. But when the heavy arrears of Cornish dues were collected, about the period of expiry of the patent, a considerable sum of money necessarily fell to Watt's share; and then he began to occupy himself in the pleasant recreation of looking out for an investment of it in land. He was, however, hard to please, and made many journeys before he succeeded in buying his estate.

"I have yet met with nothing to my mind," he wrote from Somerton; "Lord Oxford has some very considerable estates to sell near Abergavenny, but the roads to them are execrable, and it seemed that it would be a sort of banishment to live at them, though the parts I saw are in themselves pleasant. I am to-day informed of one with a house near Dorchester, which I have sent to inquire about, though I have my doubts that it will prove like the rest. I propose, if nothing hinders, to be at Taunton to-morrow night, and shall then visit the Wedgwoods, who at present live at Upcot, near that place. Afterwards, I propose making a tour through the eastern part of Devonshire, and returning by Dorsetshire to Bath; but my resolves may be altered by the attractions of various magnets, so that I cannot tell you where to write to me till I get some fixed residence."

A fortnight later he was at Exmouth, but still undecided.

"In respect to estates," he writes,— "I have seen nothing that pleases me. Most of them, as you know by experience, are surrounded with bad roads, beggarly villages, or some other nuisance, and one need not purchase plagues. On the whole, something nearer home seems more suitable to me than anything in these western counties, which, though they have more luxuriant vegetation, and perhaps a milder climate, are not exempt from cold, as I experience here colder weather than we had last autumn in Scotland. But the greatest drawback is the absence of such society as one is used to, and their abominably hilly roads, as they never flinch, but go straight up any hill which comes in their way, and Nature has bestowed plenty upon them."

Eventually Watt made several purchases of land at Doldowlod, on the banks of the Wye, between Rhayader and Newbridge in Radnorshire. There was a pleasant farmhouse on the property, in which he occasionally spent some pleasant months in summer time amidst beautiful scenery but he had by this time grown too old to root himself kindly in a new place; and his affections speedily drew him back again to the neighbourhood of Soho, and to his comfortable home at Heathfield.

During the short peace of Amiens in the following year he made the longest journey in his life. Accompanied by Mrs. Watt, he travelled through Belgium, up the banks of the Rhine to Frankfort, and home by Strasburg and Paris. While absent, Boulton wrote him many pleasant letters, telling him of what was going on at Soho. The brave old man was still at the helm there, and wrote in as enthusiastic terms as ever of the coins and medals he was striking at his Mint. Though strong in mind, he was, however, growing feebler in body, and suffered much from attacks of his old disease. "It is necessary for me," he wrote, "to pass a great part of my time in or upon the bed; nevertheless, I go down to the manufactory or the Mint once or twice a day, without injuring myself as here- tofore, but not without some fatigue. However, as I am now taking bark twice a day, I find a daily increase of strength, and flatter myself with the pleasure of taking a journey to Paris in April or May next."

On Watt's arrival in London, a letter of hearty welcome from Boulton met him but it conveyed, at the same time, the sad intelligence of the death of Mrs. Keir, a lady beloved by all who knew her, and a frequent inmate at Soho and Heathfield. One by one the members of the circle were departing, leaving wide gaps, which new friends could never fill up. The pleasant associations which are the charm of old friendships, were becoming mingled with sadness and regret. The grave was closing over one after another of the Soho group and the survivors were beginning to live for the most part upon the memories of the past. But it is one of the penalties of old age to suffer a continuous succession of such bereavements and that state would be intolerable but for the comparative deadening of the feelings which mercifully accompanies the advance of years. "We cannot help feeling with deep regret," wrote Watt, "the circle of our old friends gradually diminishing, while our ability to increase it by new ones is equally diminished but perhaps it is a wise dispensation of Providence so to diminish our enjoyments in this world that when our turn comes we may leave it without regret."

One of the deaths most lamented by Watt was that of Dr. Black of Edinburgh, which occurred in 1799. Black had watched to the last with tender interest the advancing reputation and prosperity of his early protégé. They had kept up a continuous and confidential correspondence on subjects of mutual interest for a period of about thirty years. Watt, though reserved to others, never feared unbosoming himself to his old friend, telling him of the new schemes he had on foot, and freely imparting to him his hopes and fears, his failures and successes. When Watt visited Scotland he rarely failed to take Edinburgh on his way, for the purpose of spending a few days with Black and Robison. The latter went express to London, for the purpose of giving evidence in the suit of Watt against the Hornblowers, and his testimony proved of essential service. "Our friend Robison," Watt wrote to Black, "exerted himself much and, considering his situation, did wonders." When Robison returned to Edinburgh, his Natural Philosophy class received him with three cheers. He proceeded to give them a short account of the trial, which he characterised as "not more the cause of Watt versus Hornblower, than of science against ignorance." "When I had finished," said he, "I got another plaudit, that Mrs. Siddons would have relished."

No one was more gratified at the issue of the trial than Dr. Black, who, when Robison told him of it, was moved even to tears. "It's very foolish," he said, "but I can't help it when I hear of anything good to Jamie Watt." The Doctor had long been in declining health, but was still able to work. He was busy writing. another large volume, and had engaged the engraver to come to him for orders on the day after that on which he died. His departure was singularly peaceful. His servant had delivered to him a basin of milk, which was to serve for his dinner, and retired from the room. In less than a minute he returned, and found his master sitting where he had left him, but dead, with the basin of milk unspilled in his hand. Without a struggle, the spirit had fled. As the servant expressed it, "his poor master had given over living." He had twice before said to his doctor that "he had caught himself forgetting to breathe." On bearing of the good old man's death, Watt wrote to Robison,— "I may say that to him I owe, in a great measure, what I am; he taught me to reason and experiment in natural philosophy, and was a true friend and philosopher, whose loss will always be lamented while I live. We may all pray that our latter end may be like his; he has truly gone to sleep in the arms of his Creator, and been spared all the regrets attendant on a more lingering exit. I could dwell longer on this subject but regrets are unavailing, and only tend to enfeeble our own minds, and make them less able to bear the ills we cannot avoid. Let us cherish the friends we have left, and do as much good as we can in our day!"

Lord Cockburn, in his ‘Memorials,’ gives the following graphic portrait of the father of modern chemistry:— "Dr. Black was a striking and beautiful person; very thin, and cadaverously pale; his hair carefully powdered, though there was little of it except what was collected into a long thin queue; his eyes dark, clear, and large, like deep pools of pure water. He wore black speckless clothes, silk stockings, silver buckles, and either a slim green silk umbrella, or a genteel brown cane. His general frame and air was feeble and slender. The wildest boy respected Black. No lad could be irreverent towards a man so pale, so gentle, so elegant, and so illustrious. So he glided, like a spirit, through our rather mischievous sportiveness, unharmed."

Of the famous Lunar Society, Boulton and Watt now remained almost the only surviving members. Day was killed by a fall from his horse in 1789. Josiah Wedgwood closed his noble career at Etruria in 1795, in the sixty-fifth year of his age. Dr. Withering, distinguished alike in botany and medicine, died in 1799, of a lingering consumption. Dr. Darwin was seized by his last attack of angina pectoris in 1802, and, being unable to bleed himself, as he had done before, he called upon his daughter to apply the lancet to his arm; but, before she could do so, he fell back in his chair and expired. Dr. Priestley, driven forth into exile, closed his long and illustrious career at Northumberland in Pennsylvania in 1803. The Lunar Society was thus all but extinguished by death the vacant seats remained unfilled and the meetings were no longer held.

But the bereavements which Watt naturally felt the most, were the deaths of his own children. He had two by his second wife, a son and a daughter, both full of promise, who had nearly grown up to adult age, when they died. Jessie was of a fragile constitution from her childhood, but her health seemed to become re-established as she grew in years. But before she had entered womanhood, the symptoms of an old pulmonary affection made their appearance, and she was carried off by consumption. Mr. Watt was much distressed by the event, confessing that he felt as if one of the strongest ties that bound him to life was broken, and that the acquisition of riches availed him nothing when unable to give them to those he loved. In a letter to a friend, he thus touchingly alluded to one of the most sorrowful associations connected with the deaths of children:— "Mrs. Watt continues to be much affected whenever anything recalls to her mind the amiable child we have parted with and these remembrances occur but too frequently, — her little works of ingenuity, her books and other objects of study, serve as mementoes of her who was always to the best of her power usefully employed even to the last day of her life. With me, whom age has rendered incapable of the passion of grief, the feeling is a deep regret and, did nature permit, tears would flow as fast as her mother's."

To divert and relieve his mind, as was his wont, he betook himself to fresh studies and new inquiries. It is not improbable that the disease of which his daughter had died, as well as his own occasional sufferings from asthma, gave a direction to his thoughts, which turned on the inhalation of gas as a remedial agent in pulmonary and other diseases. Dr. Beddoes of Bristol had started the idea, which Watt now took up and prosecuted with his usual zeal. He contrived an apparatus for extracting, washing, and collecting gases, as well as for administering them by inhalation. He professed that he had taken up the subject not because he understood it, but because nobody else did, and that he could not withhold anything which might be of use in prompting others to do better. The result of his investigations was published at Bristol under the title of ‘Considerations on the Medicinal use of Fictitious Airs,’ the first part of which was written by Dr. Beddoes, and the second part by Watt.

But a still heavier blow than the loss of his only daughter, was the death of his son Gregory a few years later. He was a young man of the highest promise, and resembled Watt himself in many respects — in mind, character, and temperament. Those who knew him while a student at Glasgow College, spoke of him long after in terms of the most glowing enthusiasm. Among his fellow-students were Francis, afterwards Lord Jeffrey, and the poet Campbell. Both were captivated not less by the brilliancy of his talents than by the charming graces of his person. Campbell spoke of him as "a splendid stripling — literally the most beautiful youth I ever saw. When he was only twenty-two, an eminent English artist — Howard, I think — made his head the model of a picture of Adam." Campbell, Thomson, and Gregory Watt, were class-fellows in Greek, and avowed rivals but the rivalry only served to cement their friendship. In the session of 1793-4, after a brilliant competition which excited unusual interest, the prize was awarded to Thomson; but, with the exception of the victor himself, Gregory was the most delighted student in the class. "He was," says the biographer of Campbell, "a generous, liberal, and open-hearted youth; so attached to his friend, and so sensible of his merit, that the honours conferred on Thomson obliterated all recollections of personal failure." Francis Jeffrey was present at the commemoration of the first of May, two years later, and was especially struck with the eloquence of young Watt, "who obtained by far the greatest number of prizes, and degraded the prize-readers most inhumanly by reading a short composition of his own, a translation of the Chorus of the Medea, with so much energy and grace, that the verses seemed to me better perhaps than they were in reality. He is a young man of very eminent capacity, and seems to have all the genius of his father, with a great deal of animation and ardour which is all his own."

Campbell thought him born to be a great orator, and anticipated for him the greatest success in Parliament or at the Bar. His father had, however, already destined him to follow his own business. Indeed, Gregory was introduced a partner into the Soho concern about the same time as Mr. Boulton, jun., and his elder brother James. But he never gave much attention to the business. Scarcely had he left college, before symptoms of pulmonary affection showed themselves; and, a physician having been consulted, Mr. Watt was recommended to send his son to reside in the south of England. He accordingly went to Penzance for the benefit of its mild climate, and, by a curious coincidence, he took up his abode as boarder and lodger in the house of Humphry Davy's mother. The afterwards brilliant chemist was then a boy some years younger than Gregory. He had already made experiments in chemistry, with sundry phials and kitchen utensils, assisted by an old glyster apparatus presented to him by the surgeon of a French vessel wrecked on the coast. Although Gregory possessed great warmth of heart, there was a degree of coldness in his manner to strangers, which repelled any approach to familiarity.

When his landlady's son, therefore, began talking to him of metaphysics and poetry, he was rather disposed to turn a deaf ear; but when Davy touched upon the subject of chemistry, and made the rather daring boast for a boy, that he would undertake to demolish the French theory in half an hour, Gregory's curiosity was roused. The barrier of ice between them was at once removed and from thenceforward they became attached friends. Young Davy was encouraged to prosecute his experiments, which the other watched with daily increasing interest and in the course of the following year, Gregory communicated to Dr. Beddoes, of Bristol, then engaged in establishing his Pneumatic Institution, an account of Davy's experiments on light and heat, the result of which was his appointment as superintendent of the experiments at the Institution, and the subsequent direction of his studies and investigations.

Gregory's health having been partially re-established by his residence at Penzance, he shortly after returned to his father's house at Birmingham, whither Davy frequently went, and kept up the flame of his ambition by intercourse with congenial minds. Gregory heartily co-operated with his father in his investigations on air, besides inquiring and experimenting on original subjects of his own selection. Among these may be mentioned his inquiries into the gradual refrigeration of basalt, his paper on which, read before the Royal Society, would alone entitle him to a distinguished rank among experimentalists.

By the kindness of his elder brother James, Gregory Watt was relieved of his share of the work at Soho, and was thereby enabled to spend much of his time in travelling about for the benefit of his health. Early in 1801, we find him making excursions in the western counties in company with Mr. Murdock, jun. and looking forward with still greater anticipations of pleasure to the tour which he subsequently made through France, Germany, and Austria. We find him afterwards writing his father from Freiburg, to the effect that he was gradually growing stronger, and was free from pulmonary affection. From Leipzig he sent an equally favourable account of himself, and gave his father every hope that on his return he would find him strong and sound.

These anticipations, however, proved delusive, for the canker was already gnawing at poor Gregory's vitals. Returned home, he busied himself with his books, his experiments, and his speculations; assisting his father in recording observations on the effects of nitrous oxide and other gases. But it was shortly found necessary to send him again to the south of England for the benefit of a milder climate. In the beginning of 1804, his father and mother went with him to Clifton, where he had an attack of intermittent fever, which left him very weak. From thence they removed to Bath, and remained there for about a month, the invalid being carefully attended by Dr. Beddoes. During their stay at Bath, Gregory's brother paid him a visit, and was struck by his altered appearance. The fever had left him, but his cough and difficulty of breathing were very distressing to witness. As usual in such complaints, his mind was altogether unaffected. "Indeed," wrote his brother, "he is as bright, clear, and vigorous, upon every subject as I ever knew him to be. His voice, too, is firm and good, and when he enters into conversation I should lose the recollection of his complaint if his appearance did not so forcibly remind me of it. It is fortunate that he does not suffer much bodily pain, or, so far as I can discover, any mental anxiety as to the issue of his complaint."

When Gregory was sufficiently recovered from the debilitating effects of his fever, he was moved to Sidmouth, where he appeared to improve; but he himself believed the sea air to be injurious to him, and insisted on being again removed inland. During all this time his father's anxiety may be imagined, though he bore up with as much equanimity as was practicable under circumstances so distressing. "Ever since we left Bath," he wrote to Mr. Boulton at Soho, "ours has been a state of anxiety very distressing to us, and the communication of which would not have been pleasing to our friends. To add to this, I have myself been exceedingly unwell, though I am now much better. Gregory suffered very much from the journey, which was augmented by his own impatience and though he seemed to recover a little from his fatigue during the first week, his breath became daily worse, until we were obliged to remove him, on Thursday last, to the neighbourhood of Exeter, where he now is with his aunt." The invalid became rapidly worse, and survived his removal only a few days. "This day," wrote the sorrowing father to Boulton, "the remains of poor Gregory were deposited in a decent, though private manner, in the north aisle of the cathedral here, near the transept. . . . I mean to erect a tablet to his memory on the adjoining wall but his virtues and merits will be best recorded in the breasts of his friends. . . . . As soon as we can settle our accounts, we shall all return homewards, with heavy hearts."

Davy was deeply affected by Gregory Watt's death; and in the freshness of his grief he thus unbosomed himself to his friend Clayfield:-

"Poor Watt! he ought not to have died. I could not persuade myself that he would die; and until the very moment when I was assured of his fate, I would not believe he was in any danger. His letters to me, only three or four months ago, were full of spirit, and spoke not of any infirmity of body, but of an increased strength of mind. Why is this in the order of Nature, — that there is such a difference in the duration and destruction of his works? If the mere stone decays it is to produce a soil which is capable of nourishing the moss and the lichen; when the moss and the lichen die and decompose, they produce a mould which becomes the bed of life to grass, and to a more exalted species of vegetables. Vegetables are the food of animals, — the less perfect animals of the more perfect; but in man, the faculties and intellect are perfected, - he rises, exists for a little while in disease and misery, and then would seem to disappear, without an end, and without producing any effect.

We are deceived, my dear Clayfield, if we suppose that the human being who has formed himself for action, but who has been unable to act, is lost in the mass of being; there is some arrangement of things which we can never comprehend, but in which his faculties will be applied. . . We know very little; but, in my opinion, we know enough to hope for the immortality, the individual immortality of the better part of man. I have been led into all this speculation, which you may well think wild, in reflecting upon the fate of Gregory! My feeling has given wings to my mind. He was a noble fellow, and would have been a great man. Oh! there was no reason for his dying — he ought not to have died."

More deaths! A few years later, and Watt lost his oldest friend, Professor Robison of Edinburgh, his companion and fellow-worker at Glasgow College nearly fifty years before. Since then, their friendship had remained unchanged, though their respective pursuits kept them apart. Robison continued busily and usefully occupied to the last. He had finished the editing of his friend Black's lectures, and was occupied in writing his own ‘Elements of Mechanical Philosophy,’ when death came and kindly released him from a lingering disorder which had long oppressed his body, though it did not enervate his mind. A few years before his death he wrote Watt, informing him that he had got an addition to his family in a fine little boy, a grandchild, healthy and cheerful, who promised to be a source of much amusement to him. "I find this a great acquisition," said he, "notwithstanding a serious thought sometimes stealing into my mind. I am infinitely delighted with observing the growth of its little soul, and particularly with the numberless instincts, which formerly passed unheeded. I thank the French theorists for more forcibly directing my attention to the finger of God, which I discover in every awkward movement and every wayward whim. They are all guardians of his life, and growth, and powers. I regret that I have not time to make infancy, and the development of its powers, my sole study." In 1805 he was taken from his little playfellow, and from the pursuit of his many ingenious speculations. Watt said of him, "he was a man of the clearest head and the most science of anybody I have ever known, and his friendship to me ended only with his life, after having continued for nearly half a century. . . . His religion and piety, which made him patiently submit without even a fretful or repining word in nineteen years of unremitting pain, — his humility, in his modest opinion of himself, — his kindness, in labouring with such industry for his family during all this affliction, — his moderation for himself, while indulging an unbounded generosity to all about him, joined to his talents, form a character so uncommon and so noble, as can with difficulty be conceived by those who have not, like me, had the contemplation of it."

Little more remains to be recorded of the business life of Boulton and Watt. The former, notwithstanding his declining health and the frequent return of his malady, continued to take an active interest in the Soho coinage. Watt often expostulated with him, but in vain, urging that it was time for him to retire wholly from the anxieties of business. On Boulton bringing out his Bank of England silver dollar, with which he was himself greatly pleased, he sent some specimens to Watt, then staying at Clifton, for his inspection. Watt replied,— "Your dollar is universally admired by all to whom we have shown it, though your friends fear much that your necessary attention to the operation of the coinage may injure your health." And again he wrote from Sidmouth, "We are all glad to hear of your amendment, which we hope will be progressive, and possibly it might be better if you could summon up resolution enough to rid yourself of some of those plagues you complain of; but while you suffer yourself to be intruded upon in the manner you do, you can never enjoy that quiet which is now so necessary to your health and comfort." Mrs. Watt joined her entreaties to those of her husband, expressing the wish that, for Mr. Boulton's sake, it might rain every day, to prevent his fatiguing himself by walking to and from the works, and there occupying himself with the turmoils of business. Why should be not do as Mr. Watt had done, and give up Soho altogether, leaving business and its anxieties to younger and stronger men? But business, as we have already explained, was Boulton's habit, and pleasure, and necessity. Moreover, occupation of some sort served to divert his attention from the ever-present pain within him; and so long as his limbs were able to support him, he tottered down the hill to see what was going forward at Soho.

As for Watt, we find that he had at last learnt the art of taking things easy, and that he was trying to make life as agreeable as possible in his old age. Thus at Cheltenham, from which place Mrs. Watt addressed Boulton in the letter of advice above referred to, we find the aged pair making pleasant excursions in the neighbourhood during the day, and reading novels and going to the theatre occasionally in the evening. "As it is the fashion," wrote Mrs. Watt,— "and wishing to be very fashionable people, we subscribe to the library. Our first book was Mrs. Opie's ‘Mother and Daughter,’ a tale so mournful as to make both Mr. Watt and myself cry like schoolboys that had been whipped; . . . and to dispel the gloom that poor Adeline hung over us, we went to the theatre last night to see the ‘Honeymoon,’ and were highly pleased."

Towards the end of 1807 Boulton had a serious attack of his old disease, which fairly confined him to his bed and his friends feared lest it should prove his last illness. He was verging upon his eightieth year, and his constitution, though originally strong, was gradually succumbing to confinement and pain. He nevertheless rallied once more, and was again, able to make occasional visits to the works as before. He had promised to send a box of medals to the Queen, and went down to the Mint to see them packed. The box duly reached Windsor Castle, and De Luc acknowledged its reception:—

"As no words of mine," he said, "could have conveyed your sentiments to Her Majesty so well as those addressed to me in your name, I contented myself with putting the letter into her hands. Her Majesty expressed her sensibility for the sufferings you had undergone during the period of your silence, and at your plentiful gift, for which she has charged me to thank you and as, at the same time that you have placed the whole at her own disposal, you have mentioned the Princesses, Her Majesty will make them partakers in the present.

De Luc concluded by urging Mr. Boulton to abstain from further work and anxiety, and reminded him that after a life of such activity as his had been, both body and mind required complete rest.

"Life," said he, "in this world is a state of trial, and as long as God gives us strength we are not to shun even painful employments which are duties. But in the decline of life, when the strength fails, we ought to drop all thought of objects to which we are no longer equal, in order to preserve the serenity and liberty of mind with which we are to consider our exit from this world to a better. May God prolong your life without pain for the good you do constantly, is the sincere wish of your very affectionate friends (father and daughter), DE Luc."

Boulton's life was, indeed, drawing to a close. He had for many years been suffering from an agonising and incurable disease — stone in the kidneys and bladder - and waited for death as for a friend. The strong man was laid low; and the night had at length come when he could work no more. The last letter which he wrote was to his daughter, in March, 1809; but the characters are so flickering and indistinct as to be scarcely legible. "If you wish to see me living," he wrote, "pray come soon, for I am very ill." Nevertheless, he suffered on for several months longer. At last he was released from his pain, and peacefully expired on the 17th of August, 1809, at the age of eighty-one. Though he fell like a shock of corn in full season, his death was lamented by a wide circle of relatives and friends. A man of strong affections, with an almost insatiable appetite for love and sympathy, he inspired others with like feelings towards himself; and when be died, they felt as if a brother had gone. He was alike admired and beloved by his workmen and when he was carried to his last resting-place in Handsworth Church, six hundred of them followed the hearse, and there was scarcely a dry eye among them.

Matthew Boulton was, indeed, a man of truly noble nature. Watt, than whom none knew him better, was accustomed to speak of him as "the princely Boulton." He was generous and high-souled, a lover of truth, honour, and uprightness. His graces were embodied in a manly and noble person. We are informed through Dr. Guest that on one occasion, when Mr. Boulton's name was mentioned in his father's presence, he observed, "the ablest man I ever knew." On the remark being repeated to Dr. Edward Johnson, a courtly man, he said, "As to his ability, other persons can better judge. But I can say that he was the best mannered man I ever knew." The appreciation of both was alike just and characteristic, and has since been confirmed by Mrs. Schimmelpenninck. She describes with admiration his genial manner, his fine radiant countenance, and his superb munificence: "He was in person tall, and of a noble appearance; his temperament was sanguine, with that slight mixture of the phlegmatic which gives calmness and dignity; his manners were eminently open and cordial he took the lead in conversation and, with a social heart, had a grandiose manner, like that arising from position, wealth, and habitual command. He went about among his people like a monarch bestowing largesse."

Boswell was equally struck by Boulton's personal qualities when he visited Soho in 1776, shortly after the manufacture of steam-engines had been begun there. "I shall never forget," he says, "Mr. Boulton's expression to me when surveying the works. I sell here, sir, what all the world desires to have’ POWER.' He had," continues Boswell, "about seven hundred people at work. I contemplated him as an iron chieftain, and he seemed to be a father of his tribe. One of the men came to him complaining grievously of his landlord for having distrained his goods. "Your landlord is in the right, Smith," said Boulton "but I'll tell you what — find a friend who will lay down one half of your rent, and I'll lay down the other, and you shall have your goods again." It would be a mistake to suppose that there was any affectation in Boulton's manner, or that his dignified bearing in society was anything but natural to him. He was frank, cheerful, and affectionate, as his letters to his wife, his children, and his friends, amply demonstrate. None knew better than he how to win hearts, whether of workmen, mining adventurers, or philosophers. "I have thought it but respectful," he wrote Watt from Cornwall, "to give our folks a dinner at a public-house near Wheal Virgin to-day. There were present William Murdock, Lawson, Pearson, Perkins, Malcolm, Robert Muir, all Scotchmen, and John Bull, with self and Wilson, — for the engines are all now finished, and the men have behaved well, and are attached to us." At Soho he gave an entertainment on a much larger scale upon his son coming of age in 1791, when seven hundred persons sat down to dinner. Boswell's description of him as the father of his tribe is peculiarly appropriate. No well-behaved workman was ever turned adrift. On the contrary, fathers introduced their sons into the factory, and brought them up under their own eye, watching over their conduct and their mechanical training. Thus generation after generation of workmen followed in each other's footsteps at Soho.

There was no doubt, good business policy in this; for Boulton knew that by attaching the workmen to him, and inspiring them with pride in the concern, he was maintaining that prestige which, before the days of machine tools, would not have been possible without the aid of a staff of carefully-trained and highly-skilled mechanics. Yet he had many scapegraces amongst them — hard drinkers, pugilists, cock-fighters, and scamps. Watt often got wholly out of patience with them, and urged their dismissal, whatever might be the consequence. But though none knew so well as Watt how to manage machines, none knew so ill how to manage men. Boulton's practical wisdom usually came to the rescue. He would tolerate any moral shortcoming save treachery and dishonesty. But he knew that most of the men had been brought up in a bad school, often in no school at all. "Have pity on them, bear with them, give them another trial," he would say "our works must not be brought to a standstill because perfect men are not yet to be had." "True wisdom," he observed on another occasion, "directs us, when we can, to turn even evils into good. We must take men as we find them, and try to make the best of them."

Still further to increase the attachment of the workmen to Soho, and keep together his school of skilled industry, as he called it, Boulton instituted a Mutual Assurance Society in connexion with the works; the first of the kind, so far as we are aware, established by any large manufacturer for the benefit of his workmen. Every person employed in the manufactory, in whatsoever condition, was required to be a member. Boys receiving 2s. 6d. a week paid a halfpenny weekly to the box; those receiving 5s. paid a penny a week, and so on, up to men receiving. 20s. a week, who contributed 4d.; payments being made to them out of the fund during sickness and disablement, in proportion to their contributions during health. The effects of the Society were most salutary; it cultivated habits of providence and thoughtfulness amongst the men; bound them together by ties of common interest; and it was only in the cases of irreclaimable drunkards that any members of the Soho Friendly Society ever came upon the parish.

But this was only a small item in the constitution of the Soho manufactory. Before its establishment, comparatively little attention had been given to the organisation of labour on a large scale. Workshops were so small that everything went on immediately under the master's eye, and workmen got accustomed to ply at their work diligently, being well watched. But when manufacturing was carried on upon so large a scale as at Soho, and separate processes were conducted in different rooms and workshops, it was impossible that the master’s eye should be over all his workers, or over even any considerable portion of them at the same time. It was therefore necessary to introduce a new system. Hence the practice of inspection by deputy, and the appointment of skilled and trustworthy foremen for the purpose of enforcing strict discipline in the various shops, and at the same time economising labour and ensuring excellence of workmanship. In carrying out this arrangement, Boulton proved remarkably successful: and Soho came to be regarded as a model establishment. Men came from all parts to see and admire its organisation; and when Wedgwood proceeded to erect his great pottery works at Etruria, he paid many preliminary visits to Soho for the purpose of ascertaining how the difficulties occasioned by the irregular habits of the workpeople had been so successfully overcome by his friend, and applying the results of his experience in the organisation of his own manufactory.

Though Boulton could not keep his eye directly on the proceedings in the shops, he was quick to discern when anything was going wrong. While sitting in the midst of his factory, surrounded by the clang of hammers and the noise of engines, he could usually detect when any stoppage occurred, or when the machinery was going too fast or too slow, and issue his orders accordingly. The sound of the tools going, and the hammers clanging, which to strangers was merely an intolerable noise, was an intelligible music in his ears and, like the leader of an orchestra, who casts his eye at once in the direction of the player of a wrong note, so Boulton was at once conscious of the slightest dissonance in the performances of his manufactory, and took the necessary steps immediately to correct it.

From what we have already said, it will be sufficiently clear that Boulton was a first-rate man of business. He had a hearty enthusiasm for his calling, and took a just pride in it. In conducting it, he was guided by fine tact, great knowledge of character, and sound practical wisdom. When fully satisfied as to the course he should pursue, he acted with remarkable vigour and promptitude, bending his whole mind to the enterprise which he had taken in hand. It was natural that he should admire in others the qualities he himself desired to possess. "I can't say," he wrote to Watt, "but that I admire John Wilkinson for his decisive, clear, and distinct character, which is, I think, a first-rate one of its kind." Like Wilkinson, Boulton was also distinguished for his indomitable pluck and in no respect was this more strikingly displayed than in his prosecution of the steam-engine enterprise.

Playfair has truly said that had Watt searched all Europe over, he could not have found another person so fitted to bring his invention before the public in a manner worthy of its merits and importance. Yet Boulton was by no means eager to engage in the scheme. Watt could with difficulty persuade him to take it up; and it was only in exchange for a bad debt that he at length became a partner in it. But when once fairly committed, he threw himself into the enterprise with an extraordinary degree of vigour. He clearly recognised in the steam-engine a power destined to revolutionise the industrial operations of the world. To M. Argand, the famous French lamp inventor, he described it as "the most certain, the most regular, the most durable, and the most effective machine in Nature, so far as her powers have yet been revealed to mortal knowledge;" and he declared to him that, finding he could be of more use to manufactures and to mankind in general by employing all his powers in the capacity of an engineer, than in fabricating any kind of clincaillerie whatsoever, he would thenceforward devote himself wholly to his new enterprise.

But it was no easy work he had undertaken. He had to struggle against prejudices, opposition, detraction, and difficulties of all kinds. Not the least difficulty he had to strive against was the timidity and faintheartedness of his partner. For years Watt was on the brink of despair. He kept imploring Boulton to relieve him from his troubles; he wished to die and be at rest he "cursed his inventions;" indeed he was the most miserable of men. But Boulton never lost heart. He was hopeful, courageous, and strong — Watt's very back-bone. He felt convinced that the invention must eventually succeed, and he never for a moment lost faith in it. He braved and risked everything to "carry the thing through." he mortgaged his lands to the last farthing; borrowed from his personal friends; raised money by annuities; obtained advances from bankers; and had invested upwards of £40,000 in the enterprise before it began to pay.

During this terrible struggle he was more than once on the brink of insolvency, but continued as before to cheer and encourage his fainting partner. "Keep your mind and your heart pleasant if possible," he wrote to Watt, "for the way to go through life sweetly is not to regard rubs." To those about Watt he wrote, "Do not disturb Mr. Watt, but keep him as free from anxiety as you can." He himself took the main share of the burden, pushing the engine amongst the Cornish miners, bringing it under the notice of London brewers and water companies, and finding money to meet the heavy liabilities of the firm.

So much honest endeavour could not fail. And at last the tide seemed to turn. The engine became recognised as a grand working power, and there was almost a run upon Soho for engines. Then pirates sprang up in all directions, and started new schemes with the object of evading Watt's patent. And now a new battle had to be fought against "the illiberal, sordid, unjust, ungenerous, and inventionless misers, who prey upon the vitals of the ingenious, and make haste to seize upon what their laborious and often costly application has produced." At length this struggle, too, was conclusively settled in Boulton and Watt's favour, and they were left at last to enjoy the fruits of their labour in peace.

Watt never could have fought such a series of battles alone. He would have been a thousand times crushed; and, but for Boulton's unswerving courage and resolute determination, he could neither have brought his engine into general use, nor derived any adequate reward for his great invention. Though his specification lodged in the Patent Office might clearly establish his extraordinary mechanical genius, it is most probable that he himself would have broken his heart over his scheme, and added only another to the long list of great martyr inventors.

None was more ready to acknowledge the immense services of Boulton in introducing the steam-engine to general use as a working power, than Watt himself. In the MS. memoir of his lately deceased friend deposited among the Soho papers, dated Glasgow, 17th September, 1809, Watt says,—

"Through the whole of this business Mr. Boulton's active and sanguine disposition served to counterbalance the despondency and diffidence which were natural to me; and every assistance which Soho or Birmingham could afford was procured. Mr. Boulton's amiable and friendly character, together with his fame as an engineer and active manufacturer, procured us many and very active friends in both Houses of Parliament. . . . . Suffice it to say, that to his generous patronage, the active part he took in the management of the business, his judicious advice, and his assistance in contriving and arranging many of the applications of the steam-engine to various machines, the public are indebted for great part of the benefits they now derive from that machine. Without him, or some similar partner (could such a one have been found), the invention could never have been carried by in to the length that it has been.

"Mr. Boulton was not only an ingenious mechanic, well skilled in all the arts of the Birmingham manufacturers, but he possessed in a high degree the faculty of rendering any new invention of his own or of others useful to the public, by organising and arranging the processes by which it could be carried on, as well as of promoting the sale by his own exertions and those of his numerous friends and correspondents. His conception of the nature of any invention was quick, and he was not less quick in perceiving the uses to which it might be applied, and the profits which might accrue from it. When he took any scheme in hand, he was rapid in executing it, and on those occasions spared neither trouble nor expense. He was a liberal encourager of merit in others, and to him the country is indebted for various improvements which have been brought forward under his auspices. . .

"In respect to myself, I can with great sincerity say that he was a most affectionate and steady friend and patron, with whom, during a close connexion of thirty-five years, I have never had any serious difference.

"As to his improvements and erections at Soho — his turning a barren heath into a delightful garden, and the population and riches he has introduced into the parish of Handsworth, I must leave such subjects to those whose pens are better adapted to the purpose, and whose ideas are less benumbed with age than mine now are."

We have spoken of Boulton's generosity, which was in keeping with his whole character. At a time when he was himself threatened with bankruptcy, we have seen him concerting a scheme with his friend Wedgwood to enable Dr. Priestley to pursue his chemical investigations free from pecuniary anxiety. To Watt he was most liberal, voluntarily conceding to him at different times profits derived from certain parts of the steam-engine business, beyond the proportions stipulated in the deed of partnership. In the course of his correspondence we find numerous illustrations of his generosity to partners as well as to workmen; making up the losses they had sustained, and which at the time perhaps he could ill afford. His conduct to Widow Swellengrebel illustrates this fine feature in his character. She had lent money to Fothergill, his partner in the hardware business, and the money was never repaid. The consequence was, that the widow and her family were seriously impoverished, and on their return to their friends in Holland, Boulton, though under no obligation to do so, remitted her an annuity of fifty pounds a year, which he continued to the close of her life. "I must own," he wrote, "I am impelled to act as I do from pity, as well as from something in my own disposition that I cannot resist."

In fine, Matthew Boulton was a noble, manly man, and a true leader of men. Lofty-minded, intelligent, energetic, and liberal, he was one of those who constitute the life blood of a nation, and give force and dignity to the national character. Working in conjunction with Watt, he was in no small degree instrumental in introducing and establishing the great new working power of steam which has exercised so extraordinary an influence upon all the operations of industry.

See Also

• Lives of Boulton and Watt by Samuel Smiles
• Lives of Boulton and Watt by Samuel Smiles: Chapter 21
• Lives of Boulton and Watt by Samuel Smiles: Chapter 23