BRAIN STEALERS.

Lyttelton Times, Volume LXXV, Issue 9447, 23 June 1891, Page 2

BRAIN STEALERS.

A manufacturer iu these days holds his own against competition by force of capital, knowledge of science, and skill of workmen. He ha?, no secret beyond that of producing the best article at the lowest price. A hundred years ago the case was different. What a man discovered iu tbe arts he concealed. Workmen were put upon their oath never to reveal the processes used hr their employers. Doors were kept closed, artisans going out were searched, visitors Wcie rigorously excluded from admission, and false operations blinded the Workmen themuclvss. •

The royal manufactories of porcelain.for example, were long carried on in Europe with a spirit or jealous exclusiveness Hie Majesty of Saxony was especially oipenmapeefc. Not content with the oath of secrecy imposed upon his workpeople, ha would not abate hia kingly suspicion Ifc favour of a brother monarch, what it commonly called the " uresden ” porcelain —that exquisite pottery of which the world has never seen the like—was produced for two hundred years by a process that neither the bribery of princes nor the garrulity of operatives ever revealddf There used to be' close by Temple Bar, in London/an old chemist’s shop. Th* proprietor of it, in days gone by,.enjoyed the monopoly of making citric acid. More favourably circumstanced than other secret manufacturers, his was a process that required no assistance. He employed no workmen. Experts came to sample, and assort, ac.d bottle his products. They never entered tho laboratory. The mystic operations by which he grew rich were confined to himself.

One day, having locked the doors and blinded the windows, sure, as usual, of the safety of this secret, our chemist went homo. A chimney-sweep, or a hoy disguised as such, wide awake in chemistry, was on the watch. Following the secret-keeper so far as on his way to Charing Cross as to be sure he would not return that day, the sooty spy hied rapidly back to Temple Bar, ascended the low building, dropped down the flue, saw all he wanted, and returned, carrying with him the mystery of making citric acid.

The monopoly of the inventor was gone. A few months after, and tbe price of the article was reduced four-fifths. The poor man was broken-hearted, and died shortly afterwards, ignorant of the trick by which he had been victimised. The manufacture of tinware in- England originated in a stolen secret. Pew readers need to be informed that tinware is simply thin iron plated witty tin by being dipped into the molten metal. In theory it is an easy matter to clean the surface of iron, dip it into a bath of boiling tin, and remove it, enveloped with the silver metal, to a place for cooling. In practice, however, the process is one of the most difficult of the arts. 6

It was discovered in Holland, and guarded from publicity with the utmost vigilance for nearly half a century, Britons tried in vain to discover the secret until James Sherman, a Cornish' miner, crossed the Channel, insinuated himself surreptitiously into a'tin-plate manufactory, made himself master of the secret, and brought it home. The history of cast steel presents a curious instance of a manufacturing secret stealthily obtained under the cloak of an appeal to philanthropy. The. main distinction between iron and steel, as everybody knows, is that the latter contains carbon. The one is converted into the other bybeingheated forja considerable time in contact with powdered charcoal in an iron box. Now, steel thus made is unequal. The middle of a bar is more carbonised than the ends, and the surface more than tbe centre. It is, therefore, unreliable? uniform work cannot be made out of it. In 1760 there lived at Atteroliffe, near Sheffield, a watchmaker named Huntsman. He became dissatisfied with the watchsprings in use, and set himself to the task of making them homogenous. *•* If," thought he, “ I can melt a piece of steel, and cast it into an ingot, its composition should be the same throughout.” Ho succeeded. His steel soon became famous. Huntsman’s ingots for fine work . were- in universal demand. He did: not call them cast steel. That was bis secret. About 1770 a large manufactory of this peculiar steel was established at Atteroliffe* The process was wrapped in secreoy_ by every means within reach—true and faithful men hired, the work divided and subdivided, large wages paid, and stringent oaths administered. It did not answer. One mid-winter might, as the tall chimneys of the Attercliffe Steel Works belched forth their smoke, a traveller knocked at the gate. The stranger, apparently a ploughman, seeking shelter from the storm, awakened no suspicion. Scanning the wayfarer closely, and moved by motives of humanity, the foreman granted hia request, and let him in. Feigning to be worn out with cold and fatigue, the poor fellow sank upon the floor, and soon appeared to be asleep. That, however, was far from his intention. He closed his eyes apparently orly._ He saw workmen cut bars of steel into bits, place them in crucibles, and thrust the crucible! into a furnace. The fire was urged to its extreme power until the steel was melted. Clothed in wet rags to protect themselves from the heat, the workmen drew out the glowing crucibles, and poured their contents into a mould. Mr Huntsman’s factory had nothing more to disclose. The secret of making cast steel had been discovered.