Edward, Tom and Albert, and Douglas Vickers - three generations of steel makers

 By the mid eighteenth century members of the Vickers family were in business at Mill Sands, Sheffield as millers. With the growth of steel, William Vickers moved to a rolling mill business nearby and entered into a partnership which would become in 1828 Naylor, Hutchinson, Vickers & Company. William's interests turned towards the Sheffield and Rotherham Railway and its was Edward who moved from the mill business to take the lead at the Mill Sands Engineering Works.

Edward married Ann Naylor and they had four sons two of whom, Tom and Albert, were sent to Germany to receive a technical education. It was not long before the company became, simply, Vickers.

Edward was ambitious for himself and his family, but also for Sheffield, which at that time, ‘as a borough was still young, having been incorporated in 1843. Its centre lacked the dignified buildings, the wealthy shops, the well-laid streets which were even then to be found in the centres of the largest industrial cities as well as in the older communities.’ Edward became a Councillor and then, in 1846, an Alderman. All the time his business was growing and becoming very profitable. Part of the reason for this profitability was the export trade with America, where Vickers had appointed a German, Ernst Benzon, as their agent; he later became a partner.

Vickers had grown out of the Mill Sands Works and had begun work on what would become the River Don Works, with technical innovation introduced by Tom Vickers who was emerging as the technical partner. It was Albert who had the entrepreneurial flair.

I tell in How Britain Shaped the Manufacturing World of the growth of the company and how the expansion of Britain's railways would consume Vickers production for much the mid nineteenth century, but then the American railways would take over until men like Carnegie began the American steel industry. Demand for armaments succeeded those for railways and it was Albert who drew Vickers towards The Naval Construction and Armaments Company at Barrow, Nordenfelt and submarines and Maxim and machine guns.

The truth is that Vickers, one way or another, formed the backbone to much of our heavy manufacturing. They made steel. They were armourers to the nation. They financed Beardmore's massive shipyard on the Clyde.They built ships, but then aircraft and submarines. They built railways locomotives and a tracked competitor to Caterpillar. But so much else. They were part founders of International Computers, the British answer to IBM. They made concrete making machinery and equipment for breweries. They made printing machinery and office equipment including duplicators.

In terms of the Vickers family, Edward was the miller who grasped opportunity. He married into the Naylor family which was already financially secure. With Ann, he had four sons two of whom I have mentioned and for whom he used international connection to secure technical education in Germany. Tom was the engineer or more probably the metallurgist who pushed the boundaries of steel making. Albert pushed the boundaries of relationships and secured the growth of the company into armaments. Both Tom and Albert were by all accounts good looking and easily adopted an aristocratic grace. Tom sent his son Douglas to Eton from where he entered the business on the technical side at the bottom. He gained expertise and experience but by the time to took the chair, the post First World War world was changing. This Vickers was embraced with open arms by the colourful entrepreneur Dudley Docker from which Metropolitan Vickers emerged. Vickers also embraced arch rivals Armstrong Whitworth.

The chair passed outside the Vickers family but a remarkable institution had been created.

I wrote about them in How Britain Shaped the Manufacturing World in chapters 5, 7, 12, 13 and 15 and in Vehicles to Vaccines in chapters 3, 6, 12, 14, 15, 16.

Further reading:

J.D. Scott, Vickers – A History (London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1962)

William Armstrong - hydraulics engineer and armament manufacturer

William Armstrong was born on 26 November 1810 in a three storey terrace house in Shiedfield on the edge of Pandon Dene not far from the expanding Newcastle.

William Armstrong was a native of the hills surrounding Newcastle where he had become entranced by the power of water. He was by training a solicitor. His biographer, Henrietta Heald, tells how he followed this, rather than his first love of engineering, to please his father. William attended first Newcastle and then Bishops Aukland Grammar Schools from which he took articles with his father's friend Armorer Donkin and went on to qualify as a solicitor working for a further ten years. Engineering, though, was ever present. Armorer Donkin was an early member of Newcastle's Literary and Philosophical Society which perhaps encouraged an interest in science in the young William.

Walks on the hills of his native Northumberland had sown seeds of how the power of water may be employed in industry. This led to experiments in hydraulics. James Rendel, a civil engineer who had studied under Thomas Telford, was reputed to be one of the foremost hydraulic engineers of his day, and he encouraged William Armstrong to follow his passion and set up WG Armstrong & Company with a manufactory for the production of hydraulic machines. This he did at Elswick near Newcastle. Heald describes the well-ordered site, the men who worked with Armstrong and the worry the economics of the business placed on him. He had no trouble getting orders for his machines, but worried greatly at the need to raise capital to finance the business.

 Fortunately, associates with the relevant financial expertise and connections were to hand. It seems to be all about connections. James Rendel had been in partnership with Nathaniel Beardmore. I immediately thought of William Beardmore, the Glasgow engineer, but could find no close family connection. Another of Armstrong's associates was Thomas Sopwith, whom, I found, was the grandfather of the pioneering aviation engineer who produced the Sopwith Camel in the First World War. In exploring Armstrong, I looked at hydraulics more generally and encountered Joseph Bramah, the machine tool manufacturer who invented the hydraulic press which took the place of the steam hammer in heavy engineering. Bramah had begun life as a carpenter, but then applied his skills to develop a more secure lock; the company that bears his name is still trading. One of Bramah's associates was Henry Maudslay, who had been a storeman at the Woolwich Arsenal, of whose career as a foremost machine tool maker I tell more elsewhere. Cyril Mausdlay wrote an account of Henry's life; Cyril was one of the founders of the Maudslay Motor Company.  Henry had set up  shipbuilder Maudslay Sons & Field, after he left Bramah. It is all connected.

William Armstrong's first order had been for the Newcastle Chronicle to power its printing press. Another, much larger, early order was from the Albert Dock in Liverpool, first for warehouse lifts and then for cranes. Isambard Kingdom Brunel ordered hydraulic turntables for his new GWR Paddington Station. Armstrong made hydraulic lock gates for the docks at Great Grimsby, and also provided hydraulic power to sluices and cranes on the docks from a 300ft water tower ‘built in the style of Palazzo Pubblico in Siena, Italy’. Other major orders followed. The use of the power of water was of massive benefit to these operations which need to move heavy bulk with ease. Another of Armstrong’s early orders was from the Manchester machine tool maker, Joseph Whitworth & Co. 

I write about Whitworth in this link. There is little evidence of close contact between the two men or their companies. Their clash came in relation to rifled artillery. The Crimea had shown how woefully inadequate British artillery was. If sufficiently powerful it was too big; in any event if was grossly inaccurate and this was the case for both the army and navy. The same was true of the enemy's armaments but men like Krupp were working hard. A shell spinning from the rifled barrel of a gun proved more accurate. Whitworth devised a gun firing an hexagonal shell which had the draw back of having to use particular ammunition. Both Armstrong and Whitworth were faced with the problem of achieving a perfectly straight barrel, albeit with a rifled surface, and gun metal strong enough to withstand ever more powerful explosions.

For Armstrong, Hydraulics gave way to armaments and I tell in How Britain Shaped the Manufacturing World how his rifled big gun was adopted by the War Office in preference to designs by both Whitworth and Isambard Kingdom Brunel. This paved the way to an influential role in Britain's armaments industry. He was regarded as one of the 'deadly triumvirate' alongside Krupp of Germany and Schneider of France. Heald quotes quotes William Manchester's biography of Krupp. 'Over the next eighty years they were to be celebrated first as shields of national honour and later, after their slaughtering machines were hopelessly out of control, as merchants of death.'

Lord Armstrong, as he became, was President of the Newcastle Literary and Philosophical Society from 1860 to 1900. He created a fascinating house at Cragside just outside Newcastle which boasted all manner of gadgets run by hydraulic power. On a grander scale he restored Bamburgh Castle on the Northumberland coast.

Further reading:

Henrietta Heald: William Armstrong - Magician of the North (Northumbria Press)

Isambard Kingdom Brunel

 Isambard, born in 1806, was the only son of Marc Brunel the celebrated engineer of the Thames Tunnel. Marc was French and as a royalist fled France after the Revolution spending six years in the USA where he built a reputation which would carry him safe through Francophobe London. He had brought with him the design for a machine to manufacture pulley blocks for sail ships. He eventually found an engineer, Henry Maudsley, capable and willing to put plans into practice. I tell elsewhere of the success of the project and how it was followed by a successful venture into sawmills in Battersea.

All the while Isambard was undergoing his education in France and receiving a technical education in part under the eye of the the eminent French watchmaker, Louis Breguet. and in part from regular visits to Maudsley's workshop. He inherited his father's skills at drawing and grew into a determined young man.

His first test came from the Thames Tunnel, a pioneering project to create a tunnel under the tidal Thames. The project was beset with challenges not least the lack of reliable information about the geology nor the extent of dredging of the river. It was a project that attracted some of the great engineers of the age. The Rennies tried and failed; Richard Trevithick took over but also without success. Marc Brunel, with the twenty year old Isambard at his side, brought a new approach to the tunnelling with a machine built by Maudsley. He was joined by William Armstrong and others. Progress was followed by disaster, regrouping and further progress and further disaster. Eventually the project was placed on hold for seven years.

There is a record of Isambard experimenting with the use of Portland cement in repairing the tunnel in 1829. Recent excavations by the University of Bristol in Bristol docks reveal that Brunel again used Portland Cement in his works on the house built for the construction of the engine of his SS Great Britain in 1839, still some five years before the full commercial exploitation of the new cement. This was a man at the forefront of technology.

This jumps ahead a little for Isambard was first occupied in early stages of building the Clifton suspension bridge and then work on Bristol docks both of which lead to the opportunity to pitch for the London to Bristol railway, named by Brunel The Great Western Railway. I write about this in the context of Swindon where the GWR workshops were based. It was a gargantuan task.

1841 was a good year for the Brunels. The Thames Tunnel was completed much to Marc's relief, and Isambard's phenominal work in digging the Box tunnel finally connected London to Bristol. These were both ground breaking projects and demanded not only skill but incredible determination.

The Great Western Railway made its way southwest of Bristol as the South Devon Railway. Here we come to an aspect of Brunel that perhaps marks him out as a visionary. He could appreciate the drawbacks of locomotives even on the broad gauge which he favoured. They were too heavy and insufficiently powerful. Elsewhere engineers were exploring what became known as the atmospheric engine which relied on a central pipe running between the rails evacuated of air by steam pump stations as intervals along the line. A piston attached to the underside of the rolling stock would run inside the pipe pushed by atmospheric pressure against the vacuum. In a few test installations it was seen to work, but not without serious drawbacks. The Stephensons were not convinced but Brunel tried the arrangement on a stretch of the line around Totnes. The systems proved impractical and conventional locomotives were used. The concept is perhaps now employed on monorails using electricity rather than air.

Brunel had other fish to fry. As those of us who know the train line into Cornwall will vouch, there are many valleys to cross. The GWR company knew there wasn't the likely income to justify stone viaducts and so Brunel used Baltic pine capable of lasting thirty years or more to build astonishing geometrical structures. Sadly all have now been replaced by stone or steel.

In May 1859 the most revered of Brunel's work, the bridge over the Tamar at Saltash was opened. It followed the principles espoused by Robert Stephenson at Menai, but over the Tamar the tubes were oval (measuring 12ft 3 in high and 16ft 9 in across) and carried the weight of the track hanging underneath. Whenever our young family drove across the much later road suspension bridge I would ask my children who it was who built the rail bridge: Isambard Kingdom Brunel.

I mentioned the SS Great Britain which was possibly the pinnacle of Brunel's shipbuilding prowess. He had built the Great Western Railway; a logical extension was to go further west across the Atlantic to New York. The answer was the SS Great Western built of timber in Bristol powered by engines fitted by Maudsley Son and Field in Blackwall. The largest ship built to date, embraced the technology that Brunel had learnt from his work on bridges. A problem remained: conventional wisdom was that the amount of coal needed for an Atlantic crossing would be too great for a ship to carry. If the ship were to be increased in size, its hull would have too great a drag. Brunel disagreed and proved his point magnificently. The SS Great Britain of which I wrote in this link about Bristol was the logical extension in strength, speed and luxury.

It was probably inevitable that the pinnacle would be followed by disappointment. The Atlantic had been conquered. Now trade was growing between Britain and Australia, but how might a steam ship travel that far let alone return? Brunel had the answer in what became known as the Great Eastern which was big enough to carry sufficient coal for both the outward and return journeys, incidentally supplied by William Cory whose name appeared elsewhere in my researches. He drew on his experience with the Great Britain and Saltash Bridge to design a robust hull. He looked to James Watt & Sons for the engine to power the screw. This alone was insufficient and so paddles were added with engines by Scott Russell. The whole structure was so vast that it took the whole of the Napier Yard at Millwall with the Scott Russell yard used for fabrication. Iron came from Beale & Co of Parkgate Ironworks, Rotherham. The Naysmith steam hammer was brought to bear on the massive castings. The Tangye Brothers of Cornwall Works, Birmingham came in the nick of time with their powerful and effective hydraulic presses which proved vital in the final launch. As with everything Brunel touched, detailed planning was present throughout. He had at his side trusted lieutenants: Captain Claxton who had masterminded the erection of the Menai bridge and Daniel Gooch who had built so many locomotives.

Reading Rolt's account of the build all was well except for the main contractor Scott Russell who did what contractors so often do, play a blame game. The problem with this was that the project was at the very forefront of shipbuilding technology where collaboration rather than exhausting confrontation is vital. The last straw was the monumental task of the launch which Brunel had planned but was denied sufficient time to for testing by lenders whose patience had come to an end. To add to this were a hostile press and crowds of onlookers hungry to see failure. All of this took an awful toll on Brunel's health and he died before the ship was successfully launched. To me one bright star was the presence of Robert Stephenson at his side; they may have been business rivals but their personal friendship endured.

Further reading

L.T.C. Rolt, Isambard Kingdom Brunel (London: Longmans, 1957)