When Davy’s lamp was eventually exhibited in Newcastle, all the Lit. and Phil. members who’d been at the meeting, and by this time many others, exclaimed that it was the same as Stephenson’s. While the Davy lamp was swiftly adopted in every other coal field in the country, the miners of the north-east stuck to what they’d had first and preferred best, the Geordy lamp.
The Davy lamp received national publicity and Sir Humphrey was duly honoured by a grateful nation. Not long afterwards the country’s colliery owners presented him with a sum of £2,000 for ‘his invention of the safety lamp’. The Stephenson supporters had by this time tried to draw attention to his work and as a result George was awarded a consolation prize of £100 as a good effort, being just a common working man. The Stephenson supporters took this as an insult. What annoyed them most was the wording accorded to Davy as ‘the inventor of the safety lamp’. It was a fierce emotional as well as scientific battle. The Davy camp saw Stephenson as a nasty upstart, trying to cash in on the great man’s fame. The Stephenson camp held high the banner of their humble local workman, proud and ingenious, unfairly treated by the powerful southern establishment. George, meanwhile, had gone back to steam engines.
The dates of the various stages of Stephenson’s invention are all important. While it is true that the public unveiling of his invention at the Newcastle Lit. and Phil. took place one month after Davy’s first public announcement in London, the Stephenson supporters were able to reveal that he had reached his conclusions and had produced several prototypes three months before Davy uttered his first public word on the subject. This proved, they said, that Stephenson was first. For many months in 1816, and later in 1817, national and local newspapers were full of irate letters from the rival camps.
Stephenson kept calm and rather aloof, which is surprising as he was never a man known for his modesty. He stuck to his first statement, given at the Lit. and Phil. in December 1815, later produced as a pamphlet, even when the Davy supporters started to suggest that Stephenson had pinched Davy’s ideas.
George wrote a very measured letter on the subject to the Philosophical Magazine on 13 March 1817, a letter written for him by his friends:
I observe you have thought proper to insert in the last number of the Philosophical Magazine your opinion that my attempts at the safety tubes and apertures were borrowed from what I have heard of Sir Humphrey Davy’s researches.…
You cannot have read the statement I considered myself called upon to lay before the public or you would not thus have questioned my veracity.… The principles upon which a safety lamp might be constructed I stated to several persons long before Sir Humphrey Davey came into this part of the Country. The plan of such a lamp was seen by several and the Lamp itself was in the hands of the manufacturers during the time he was here at which period it is not pretended he had formed any correct ideas upon which he intended to act. With any subsequent private communication between him and Mr Hodgson I was not acquainted.
The Mr Hodgson referred to was the Rev John Hodgson, a distinguished and much admired vicar in Tyneside who had housed Davy on his visit to Newcastle. Hodgson was claiming that from the minute Davy was called in he was working on the problem and had thought of the solution long before his Royal Society pronouncements. He’d told Hodgson personally about it in letters. The allegation was that Stephenson had somehow found out about Davy’s progress.
Hodgson was the main supporter of Davy’s claims in the north east and was responsible for many letters to the press and attacks on Stephenson. Davy himself at this time was keeping publicly quiet, as befitted such an important personage, in a row with a mere workman. But from letters which have turned up since, we now know that Davy was absolutely furious and had been working behind the scenes to discredit Stephenson, using Hodgson as his frontman.
In a letter dated 8 February 1816, Davy wrote from Grosvenor Street, London, to Hodgson, thanking him for copies of the recent letters in the local papers, saying that Hodgson’s tone is still a bit gentle considering that there is ‘an attempt at piracy on Stevenson’s part’. All the way through the letter, in which he constantly misspells Stephenson’s name, he pours scorn on Stephenson’s primitive grasp of the elements of chemistry and about his ‘absurd lamp’. Everything is heavily underlined, showing how angry he was. ‘Depend upon it Stevenson is not a man whose testimony is worth anything. The persons who have read his pamphlet here vote him a thief and not a clever thief.’
In all Stephenson’s career, and there were plenty of accusations to come, there can’t have been a more damning description of him. Coming from the most eminent scientist of the day, albeit in a private letter, it’s little wonder that the anti-Stephenson campaign became so vitriolic.
It was Nicholas Wood who had helped Stephenson with his original statement and his pamphlet and subsequent letters to the papers. But by now many eminent north-easterners had come to Stephenson’s aid, people like the Brandlings and William Losh and not least the Grand Allies, the owners of the mines where Stephenson was employed. They lent their names in advertisements in the public press calling for a subscription to award Stephenson and for a public tribunal to clear his name.
The big meeting, to set the record straight once and for all, at least as far as the Stephenson supporters were concerned, took place at the assembly rooms in Newcastle on 1 November 1817. The committee included such local heavyweights as the Earl of Strathmore, Losh and Brandling. They listened to many hours of evidence and produced a report, copies of which are today kept in the Lit. and Phil., along with one of Stephenson’s safety lamps, displayed on a table in a glass cage, a permanent reminder of a great Victorian row,
The report reads like a Watergate transcript. Every piece of evidence is meticulously detailed, every witness’s cross-examination carefully set down. One of the first witnesses was a Mr Hogg, a tinsmith of Newcastle, who gave evidence that between 2 October and 7 October 1815, George Stephenson came to his shop and asked him to make a lamp from plans supplied by the said George Stephenson. This first version of the lamp, so other witnesses such as colliery workers asserted, had been worked on by Stephenson from as early as August. George took this prototype down the mine and conducted experiments with the dangerous gases. (Smiles has a graphic description of Stephenson’s daring, going forward to the danger area while others more experienced were scared to investigate.) It was stated that Stephenson also did many experiments in his own cottage, helped by his son Robert, taking bladders of gas home. Robert later added to these stories and so did Nicholas Wood, saying that on one occasion there was an explosion at home when the gas backfired.
The date for Stephenson’s second version of his lamp, according to the report, was 4 November. The third version was perfected and in use in the mine by 20 November, being publicly unveiled at the Lit. and Phil. in December.
The reason why Stephenson had so many prototypes was that he was doing all his experimenting by trial and error, watching how gas burned and trying to work out by observations and practical tests how an explosion could be avoided. It is indeed a wonder that he failed to blow himself up during his experiments as his grasp of the basic chemical principles was very sketchy.
As a result of his early tests, he decided that the gas might not explode if it was somehow split up, entering the lamp through a series of tubes. He therefore built a lamp with tubes sticking out at the bottom where the air entered and a very tall glass chimney up the middle to protect the flame itself. He didn’t know why it worked, but it seemed to. Then it struck him that it was the little holes that were doing the trick, and that the length of the tubes had nothing to do with it. So he dropped the tubes and in the second version got the tinsmith simply to surround the lamp with a perforated cylinder with holes punched all the way down. (He drew his idea for this version over a drink with the tinsmith in the Newcastle Arms. Years afterwards Robert Stephenson showed this beer stained drawing to Samuel Smiles and others.)
Davy, through his knowledg
e of chemistry, had gone straight to a solution based on exactly the same principle. His version was even simpler – his lamp was surrounded with a wire gauze.
In the report, the committee took great pains to pay respect to Sir Humphrey, saying what a great man he was, and how brilliant a scientist. But there was an enormous amount of evidence to show that Stephenson had done practical tests from as early as August – tests witnessed and vouched for by many people. And since in the committee’s view Davy had brought forward no definite proof of his lamp until November (though his supporters said he had been ‘working on it privately’), the report concluded that Stephenson could not possibly have stolen any of Davy’s work and that he too was entitled to a reward. A sum of £1,000 was raised and Stephenson was presented with the money and a silver tankard. The inscription on the tankard said he was the ‘first to apply in construction’ the safety lamp principle.
The committee obviously enjoyed putting Davy in his place, at the same time being terribly terribly fair, drawing endless time charts and drawings of the prototypes to prove their case. Most of all, they must have enjoyed defending a humble, uneducated workman against the power of the London Establishment. An anti-London campaign always appealed to most classes in the north east.
In his speech of thanks George played the ever-so-humble part that had been cast for him. With the help of friends, and his fourteen-year-old son Robert, he composed a few suitable words which he learnt by heart. These words are quoted by Jeaffreson in his 1864 biography of Robert Stephenson, who says he saw them in George’s own handwriting. (This would be amongst the earliest examples of George’s writings, but I have been unable to trace its whereabouts today.)
He obviously had some help with the construction of the speech but several of the spellings would appear to be genuine George Stephenson. He begins by thanking all the Gentlemen, saying how ‘gratefull I feal’ for their support in his efforts in ‘constructing a safety Lamp’ and in supporting his claims against the ‘Philosopher S H Davy’. He finishes by thanking them once again:
For when I consider the manner I have been brought up and Liv’d the mariner of which is known to many of the Gentleman present and when I consider the high station of S H Davy his high character that he holds among society and his influence on scientific men and scientific bodys. all of which Sir lays me under a Debt of Gratitude to the Gentleman of this meeting which Gratitude shall remain with me so long as ever I shall live. I shall conclude sir with my heart felt thanks to the Gentleman of this meeting for their great reward thare support in my struggle with my competitor and hear I beg leave to thank in particular R Brandling Esqr. for I believe this meeting knows well the active part he has taken in my behalf And I hear do thank him publicly for it.
At the end of the report, the committee come back once again to George’s deprived background. Reading it now, it does seem to verge on the patronising. The final pages beseech the reader to ‘remember the humble and laborious station in which he has been born and lived, the scanty means and opportunities he has had for pursuing the researches of science’.
Until the report Davy had kept out of the public row. But ten days afterwards, on 11 November 1817, Davy at last showed publicly how appalled he was by the support given to Stephenson, whom he still considered an impostor. He sent a letter to each of Stephenson’s main supporters, flaunting his rank, accusing Stephenson of having cheated the committee. To William Losh he said:
Sir,
Having seen your name in the papers connected with an opinion which every Man of Science in the Kingdom knows to be false in substance as it is absurd in expression, I wish to know if it is used with your consent.
The Public Scientific Bodies to which I belong must take Cognizance of this indirect attack on my Scientific fame, my honour and varacity. I wish to know my enemies on this occasion, not from any feeling of fear, but because I would not connect the names of honourable men who may have been led into this business from mistaken ideas of benevolence with those of other persons whose conduct with respect to my exertions in this cause will, I think, awaken public indignation.
I am, Sir, Your Obdt Humble Servant,
H. DAVY.
Losh’s reply was nicely testy and rather skitty about Davy’s reputation and about the grand scientific bodies:
Your letter which I have just received is written in a style of authority, to say the least of it, very unusual in the correspondence of gentlemen. My name was undoubtedly inserted as a Member of that Committee, the objects of which appear to have given you so much offence, with my perfect approbation.
Satisfied as I am with my conduct on this subject I must say that I am wholly indifferent as to the cognizance which may be taken of it by the ‘Public Scientific Bodies’ to which you belong.
Notwithstanding my sense of the great benefits which you have conferred upon the public, I consider myself at perfect liberty to testify my esteem for the genius and merits of any other person in whatever way I think best.
The Earl of Strathmore, one of the Grand Allies, was equally sharp in his reply to Davy:
I beg leave to inform you that George Stephenson is, and has been for many years, employed at Killingworth and other Collieries in which I am concerned, and that no other Safety Lamp but that of his Invention ever has been used in any of them.… The men who work in them are perfectly satisfied with those lamps and no explosion has taken place in any of our collieries since their introduction.
Is it to be wondered at that I should be anxious to reward a very deserving, unassuming Man, who has to his employers always proved himself a faithful servant and whose abilities, if they had been aided by the advantage of education, would probably have rendered him conspicuous in the annals of Science.
No man can more highly appreciate your merits than I do … but at the same time I can never allow any meritorious Individual to be cried down because he happens to be placed in an obscure situation – on the contrary, that very circumstance will operate in me as an additional stimulus to endeavour to protect him against all overbearing efforts.
Sir Humphrey kept quiet after this, but he went to his grave in 1829 still considering Stephenson a cheat. His biographer Dr Paris in 1831 kept up the accusations: ‘It will be hereafter scarcely believed that an invention so eminently scientific, and which could never have been derived but from the sterling treasury of science, should have been claimed on behalf of an engine-wright of the name of Stephenson – a person not even possessing a knowledge of the elements of chemistry.’ At least by 1831 they were spelling his name correctly.
Goodness knows how many eminent members of the Establishment believed what Davy told them, in public and in private, and probably remembered it for years afterwards, casting doubts whenever they could about Stephenson’s later inventions and successes.
The row went on for a good many years after the report was issued. It had the effect for a time of swinging the accusations the other way – with Davy being accused of having pinched Stephenson’s ideas! There were a couple of letters in the local papers which said that ‘Stephenson’s work had been clandestinely smuggled to Sir H. Davy.’ Poor old Rev Hodgson nearly had apoplexy at this, springing to Davy’s defence once more and calling it a ‘calumny on his character’.
Few of the letters were as vitriolic or as self-righteous as Hodgson’s and luckily not anywhere as verbose. The great length of these furious newspaper letters strike the modern reader. A few of those which appeared in the Tyne Mercury and Newcastle Courant were quite amusing, poking fun at all the people in the row. One writer to the editor refers to all ‘the hot air’ around and what an ‘explosive’ subject it had become. One writer signed himself ‘Simple Wire Gauze’. Another called himself ‘Aladdin’.
The arguments lingered on till 1833 when a House of Commons Committee finally announced that they believed Stephenson’s claim to be justified and not a fraud. It said that the principles of the safety lamp had been ‘practically known to Stephenson
previously to the period when Davy brought his powerful mind to bear upon the subject’. Honours were then even, though notice how even then a bit of genuflecting to Davy and his powerful mind still lingered on.
Miners of the north east continued to use the Geordy lamp for many decades and the rest of the country the Davy lamp, despite the fact that the top of the Davy lamp tended to become red hot. In 1825 it was said to have caused a fire in a pit near Leeds in which twenty-four men and boys were killed. The Geordy lamp, because of the glass holder round the flame, never overheated.
Samuel Smiles, when he came to write his biography of Stephenson in 1857, naturally took George’s side, building up George’s deprivations. ‘One was as yet but a colliery engine-wright, scarce raised above the manual-labour class, pursuing his experiments in obscurity; the other was the scientific prodigy of his day, the most brilliant of lecturers and the most popular of philosophers.’
It is hard to know how George himself felt during all the arguments, whether he was simply pleased to be the centre of so much attention, having his humble case fought against the highest scientist in the land; or whether he, like Davy, was absolutely furious and determined to win at all costs. Stephenson’s own statements are few but they show a determined calmness which cannot simply be put down to the fact that he was helped in writing them by Wood and others. In these statements he freely admitted that he was aware of others who had gone before him, and had done similar experiments on fire damp, though not of course Sir H. Davy.
It would be interesting to know how he privately felt about the patronising tone adopted by the Grand Allies and others who so nobly sprang to his defence, or whether he was even aware of their smugness and condescension. They wallowed in their own goodness in helping such a poor, inferior workman. Like many fashionable liberals today, displaying their radical chic, these high minded but guilt ridden early Victorian capitalists liked to do and be seen to be doing good for the underprivileged.
George Stephenson Page 4