Postby dognose » Thu Dec 30, 2021 6:53 am
WALKER AND HALL
Sheffield is a town remarkable for its contrasts, black and dingy from the smoke incessantly emitted from the countless chimneys, yet very beautiful in its suburban scenes. Journeying northwards by the Midland Railway the traveller catches a glimpse of both aspects, whilst proceeding from Manchester on the M.S. & L. Railway an extensive view of the wooded hills and watered dales is opened up for miles before the town is reached. Daisy Walk, Figtree Lane, Bower Spring, Orchard Street, and Pea Croft, now central bye ways, are names indicative of glades and pathways, once the charm of the valley through which the Don and its tributaries lazily wander, but although the march of civilization has devastated much of former beauty, the rugged moorlands and the eternal hills with their rock-crowned summits remain as of yore, as
“If the Almighty’s hand had stilled and fixed “ The waves of chaos in their wildest swell.”
If like begets like their contrast seems peculiarly favourable for the production of artistic manufactures, for is not nature the greatest teacher in such a school? Fortune-hunting may be the primary object of the capitalist, but when a trade implies an art the power of the beautiful must be recognised and appreciated, if the unpoetic end is to be attained; and if this hypothesis be sound, then Sheffield owes much to the loveliness with which she is environed, and the work of her sons in the past may be taken as an earnest that advancing culture may look to her with confidence for a practical illustration of tastes refined.
The silver and silver plate trade, which is certainly an artistic one, has made a world-wide fame for this town, and we invite our readers to accompany us in a journey round the works of Messrs. Walker and Hall, of Howard and Eyre Streets. We shall speak later of the birth of this firm, the senior partner of which holds this year the honorable and ancient office of Master Cutler. He entered the business in his 18th year, and has done much in conjunction with his partners and those around him to rear a house of which he may be legitimately proud.
In the necessarily limited survey of these works we shall take a bird’s eye view of the general course of manufacture, although to the uninitiated without the assistance of a guide the various processes appear hopelessly involved in strange confusion, yet, intermingled as they are, the divisions, or more correctly the trades, are as rigidly maintained as though a separate roof covered each one. The machinery for the initial stages is heavier than would be supposed, and the tools throughout are costly. Space being frequently unavailable in the centre of the town where the great majority of these manufactories are situated, every nook and corner has to be occupied, and one of the points to be noticed is the amount of work that can be done with the aid of steam power in a few square inches.
Now, under the direction of a partner, we will make our tour of inspection, to whose courtesy we shall be indebted for the many explanations of detailed operations, and we shall take the furnaces first. Formerly copper was the basis of the far-famed “Sheffield close plate,” but for the last three decades it has been almost entirely superseded by nickel silver, a compound of nickel, copper, and spelter. Placed in a crucible the components are melted by a heat so intense that it is undesirable for a stranger to approach it, the more particularly as the row of furnaces or “holes” are built in the ground some 6 or 7 feet deep, the top being flush with the floor. The operative stands over and stirs the metal at frequent intervals for a period ranging from 1¾ to 2¼ hours, when it is removed from the fire and poured off into iron moulds, and reduced to ingots, which, when cold, are passed through powerful rolls and made into sheets. These sheets are next cut into slips, from which, in the spoon and fork department, the general outline of the article is taken. If it be a fork the metal is placed upon a die, upon which is thrown from a height of 8 or 9 feet, and sometimes more, a heavy stamp, which imparts precisely the shape and pattern, and marks out the prongs, which are punched through on another die. If it be a spoon the bowl part, which is always thinner than the handle, is first “half rolled” and then forced out by the falling hammer. Spouts and handles are made in halves in similar fashion, and afterwards soldered together. These stamps, which work over a wheel driven by steam shafting, are controlled by hand with the greatest ease, and a number of articles can be impressed in an hour, and the steam cylinder stamps, which fall with a weight of about 20 tons, and stamp out large surfaces such as dish covers, trays, waiters, &c., are quite as easily governed. Hollow ware of unusual size and style can be made from one piece without a joint by an alternative method of "drafting" under these hammers from the flat sheet into various moulds, each smaller than the other, until the vessel is shaped. Only a vague idea of the diversity of pattern and shape can be formed from general information, for it must be from works like these where shelf upon shelf fitted to the walls of many shops are full of dies and moulds, that an adequate conception can be gained. These dies are all wrought on the premises with the greatest care, which is requisite to secure the nicest exactness, which makes a design alone valuable.
Ordinary hollow ware, like tea and coffee pots, sugar basins, &c., in nickel silver, are hammered by hand, but Britannia metal, or, as it is also called, "Princes’ Metal," or "White Metal," is spun. We will digress here for a moment. This Britannia metal is a mixture of block tin, copper, brass, and regulus of antimony. The tin is melted in an iron trough and brought to a red heat, and with it is mixed the copper and brass brought to a liquid in another vessel, and to the whole the regulus of antimony is added. The mixture is then carefully stirred for some time, and finally moulded into ingots or heavy slabs, and rolled into sheets. It is capable of very brilliant polish, and indeed some exhibits of a Sheffield firm at the Great Exhibition of ’51 were so highly burnished that the Jurors recommended that the name of the metal should be inscribed upon it to prevent it being taken for silver. It is, moreover, very tractable, and on this account is mostly spun. We will now observe the operation. The spinner secures a flat circular piece of metal to his lathe, and as it rapidly revolves applies to it a long shaped tool pressed as a fulcrum against a "rest," which is moved forward as the spinning proceeds, and by forcing the metal upon the block or “chuck” he spins an elegant vessel in an incredibly short time.
The introduction of a simple yet effective labour-saving machine, known as ‘‘ The Wheeler,”’ has opened up another way of making dish covers, soup tureens, and similar vessels. It is difficult to describe its operations without the aid of a block illustration, but it has the advantage over “drafting” of making both sides smooth at once, and it also “ suages” or raises the rims of covers and the like, besides doing other useful work. Beading, used for the decoration of the edges, is next made, and the “ beader”’ must possess a strong muscle, for a continuously equal pressure is requisite to regularly raise the beads upon the wire which spins at a stiff rate. To the unaccustomed the noise is here intolerable, and it is a relief to move on to the “Pierce” workers, who transform the plain strip of metal to the fretted raised borders of waiters and trays, or to the figurated sides of cruets. In all these operations, save that of “Wheeling,” a rough surface and edge is left, technically known as “flash,” which must be filed down before the article can be further dealt with. Here the noise is as bad,-although of another kind, as in the beading shops, and the filers must be remarkable creatures if they can retain any fine feeling after making the most excruciating sounds all day long.
So far we have only been concerned with the larger wares in skeleton, but how woefully incomplete they would be but for the hundred and one added parts so often lost to sight. In a store room we now enter we find these essentials, such as screws, nuts, bolts, short bars, balls, legs, feet, supports, small solid handles, animals, in whole or in many portions, and other ornamental oddments. These are made in scores and grosses, mostly cast in sand, except such things as balls, which are made in the hollow when large enough, and delivered out to the workmen, who, in many sub-divisions, fit the whole of the pieces together. These men are often grouped in trios, and work into each other’s hands. It is a feature of this trade that no waste accrues, and what cannot be used on the premises, and such is very little, is sold. The miscellaneous room will afford the best evidence of this, for from the veriest scraps and odd pieces are made toast racks, grape scissors, salad servers, asparagus and sardine tongs, knife rests, silver trowels, nut crackers, and other useful commodities.
(to be continued)
Source: The New Monthly Magazine - 1882
Trev.