The Life of Thomas Telford by Smiles

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His apprenticeship over, Telford went on working as a journeyman at
Langholm, his wages at the time being only eighteen pence a day.
What was called the New Town was then in course of erection,
and there are houses still pointed out in it, the walls of which
Telford helped to put together. In the town are three arched
door-heads of a more ornamental character than the rest, of Telford's
hewing; for he was already beginning to set up his pretensions as a
craftsman, and took pride in pointing to the superior handiwork
which proceeded from his chisel.

About the same time, the bridge connecting the Old with the New
Town was built across the Esk at Langholm, and upon that structure
he was also employed. Many of the stones in it were hewn by his
hand, and on several of the blocks forming the land-breast his
tool-mark is still to be seen.

Not long after the bridge was finished, an unusually high flood or
spate swept down the valley. The Esk was "roaring red frae bank to
brae," and it was generally feared that the new brig would be
carried away. Robin Hotson, the master mason, was from home at the
time, and his wife, Tibby, knowing that he was bound by his
contract to maintain the fabric for a period of seven years, was in
a state of great alarm. She ran from one person to another,
wringing her hands and sobbing, "Oh! we'll be ruined--we'll a' be
ruined!" In her distress she thought of Telford, in whom she had
great confidence, and called out, "Oh! where's Tammy Telfer--
where's Tammy?" He was immediately sent for. It was evening, and
he was soon found at the house of Miss Pasley. When he came
running up, Tibby exclaimed, "Oh, Tammy! they've been on the brig,
and they say its shakin'! It 'll be doon!" "Never you heed them,
Tibby," said Telford, clapping her on the shoulder, "there's nae
fear o' the brig. I like it a' the better that it shakes--
it proves its weel put thegither." Tibby's fears, however, were not
so easily allayed; and insisting that she heard the brig "rumlin,"
she ran up--so the neighbours afterwards used to say of her--and set
her back against the parapet to hold it together. At this, it is
said, "Tam bodged and leuch;" and Tibby, observing how easily he
took it, at length grew more calm. It soon became clear enough
that the bridge was sufficiently strong; for the flood subsided
without doing it any harm, and it has stood the furious spates of
nearly a century uninjured.

Telford acquired considerable general experience about the same
time as a house-builder, though the structures on which he was
engaged were of a humble order, being chiefly small farm-houses on
the Duke of Buccleugh's estate, with the usual out-buildings.
Perhaps the most important of the jobs on which he was employed was
the manse of Westerkirk, where he was comparatively at home.
The hamlet stands on a green hill-side, a little below the entrance
to the valley of the Meggat. It consists of the kirk, the minister's
manse, the parish-school, and a few cottages, every occupant of
which was known to Telford. It is backed by the purple moors,
up which he loved to wander in his leisure hours and read the poems
of Fergusson and Burns. The river Esk gurgles along its rocky bed
in the bottom of the dale, separated from the kirkyard by a steep
bank, covered with natural wood; while near at hand, behind the
manse, stretch the fine woods of Wester Hall, where Telford was
often wont to roam.

[Image] Valley of Eskdale, Westerkirk in the distance.

We can scarcely therefore wonder that, amidst such pastoral
scenery, and reading such books as he did, the poetic faculty of
the country mason should have become so decidedly developed.
It was while working at Westerkirk manse that he sketched the first
draft of his descriptive poem entitled 'Eskdale,' which was published
in the 'Poetical Museum' in 1784.*[2] These early poetical efforts
were at least useful in stimulating his self-education. For the
practice of poetical composition, while it cultivates the
sentiment of beauty in thought and feeling, is probably the best of
all exercises in the art of writing correctly, grammatically,
and expressively. By drawing a man out of his ordinary calling, too,
it often furnishes him with a power of happy thinking which may in
after life become a source of the purest pleasure; and this, we
believe, proved to be the case with Telford, even though he ceased
in later years to pursue the special cultivation of the art.

Shortly after, when work became slack in the district, Telford
undertook to do small jobs on his own account such as the hewing of
grave-stones and ornamental doorheads. He prided himself especially
upon his hewing, and from the specimens of his workmanship which
are still to be seen in the churchyards of Langholm and Westerkirk,
he had evidently attained considerable skill. On some of these
pieces of masonry the year is carved--1779, or 1780. One of the
most ornamental is that set into the wall of Westerkirk church,
being a monumental slab, with an inscription and moulding,
surmounted by a coat of arms, to the memory of James Pasley of Craig.
He had now learnt all that his native valley could teach him of the
art of masonry; and, bent upon self-improvement and gaining a
larger experience of life, as well as knowledge of his trade, he
determined to seek employment elsewhere. He accordingly left
Eskdale for the first time, in 1780, and sought work in Edinburgh,
where the New Town was then in course of erection on the elevated
land, formerly green fields, extending along the north bank of the
"Nor' Loch." A bridge had been thrown across the Loch in 1769,
the stagnant pond or marsh in the hollow had been filled up,
and Princes Street was rising as if by magic. Skilled masons were
in great demand for the purpose of carrying out these and the numerous
other architectural improvements which were in progress, and
Telford had no difficulty in obtaining employment.

Our stone-mason remained at Edinburgh for about two years, during
which he had the advantage of taking part in first-rate work and
maintaining himself comfortably, while he devoted much of his spare
time to drawing, in its application to architecture. He took the
opportunity of visiting and carefully studying the fine specimens
of ancient work at Holyrood House and Chapel, the Castle, Heriot's
Hospital, and the numerous curious illustrations of middle age
domestic architecture with which the Old Town abounds. He also made
several journeys to the beautiful old chapel of Rosslyn, situated
some miles to the south of Edinburgh, making careful drawings of
the more important parts of that building.

When he had thus improved himself, "and studied all that was to be
seen in Edinburgh, in returning to the western border," he says,
"I visited the justly celebrated Abbey of Melrose." There he was
charmed by the delicate and perfect workmanship still visible even
in the ruins of that fine old Abbey; and with his folio filled with
sketches and drawings, he made his way back to Eskdale and the
humble cottage at The Crooks. But not to remain there long.
He merely wished to pay a parting visit to his mother and other
relatives before starting upon a longer journey. "Having acquired,"
he says in his Autobiography, "the rudiments of my profession,
I considered that my native country afforded few opportunities of
exercising it to any extent, and therefore judged it advisable
(like many of my countrymen) to proceed southward, where industry
might find more employment and be better remunerated."

Before setting out, he called upon all his old friends and
acquaintances in the dale--the neighbouring farmers, who had
befriended him and his mother when struggling with poverty--his
schoolfellows, many of whom were preparing to migrate, like
himself, from their native valley--and the many friends and
acquaintances he had made while working as a mason in Langholm.
Everybody knew that Tom was going south, and all wished him God
speed. At length the leave-taking was over, and he set out for
London in the year 1782, when twenty-five years old. He had, like
the little river Meggat, on the banks of which he was born, floated
gradually on towards the outer world: first from the nook in the
valley, to Westerkirk school; then to Langholm and its little
circle; and now, like the Meggat, which flows with the Esk into the
ocean, he was about to be borne away into the wide world. Telford,
however, had confidence in himself, and no one had fears for him.
As the neighbours said, wisely wagging their heads, "Ah, he's an
auld-farran chap is Tam; he'll either mak a spoon or spoil a horn;
any how, he's gatten a good trade at his fingers' ends."

Telford had made all his previous journeys on foot; but this one he
made on horseback. It happened that Sir James Johnstone, the laird
of Wester Hall, had occasion to send a horse from Eskdale to a
member of his family in London, and he had some difficulty in
finding a person to take charge of it. It occurred to Mr. Jackson,
the laird's factor, that this was a capital opportunity for his
cousin Tom, the mason; and it was accordingly arranged that he
should ride the horse to town. When a boy, he had learnt rough
riding sufficiently well for the purpose; and the better to fit him
for the hardships of the road, Mr. Jackson lent him his buckskin
breeches. Thus Tom set out from his native valley well mounted,
with his little bundle of "traps" buckled behind him, and, after a
prosperous journey, duly reached London, and delivered up the horse
as he had been directed. Long after, Mr. Jackson used to tell the
story of his cousin's first ride to London with great glee, and he
always took care to wind up with--"but Tam forgot to send me back
my breeks!"

[Image] Lower Valley of the Meggat, the Crooks in the distance.

Footnotes for Chapter II.

*[1] In his 'Epistle to Mr. Walter Ruddiman,' first published in
'Ruddiman's Weekly Magazine,' in 1779, occur the following lines
addressed to Burns, in which Telford incidentally sketches himself
at the time, and hints at his own subsequent meritorious career;

"Nor pass the tentie curious lad,
Who o'er the ingle hangs his head,
And begs of neighbours books to read;
For hence arise
Thy country's sons, who far are spread,
Baith bold and wise."

*[2] The 'Poetical Museum,' Hawick, p.267. ' Eskdale' was
afterwards reprinted by Telford when living at Shrewsbury, when he
added a few lines by way of conclusion. The poem describes very
pleasantly the fine pastoral scenery of the district:--

"Deep 'mid the green sequester'd glens below,
Where murmuring streams among the alders flow,
Where flowery meadows down their margins spread,
And the brown hamlet lifts its humble head--
There, round his little fields, the peasant strays,
And sees his flock along the mountain graze;
And, while the gale breathes o'er his ripening grain,
And soft repeats his upland shepherd's strain,
And western suns with mellow radiance play.
And gild his straw-roof'd cottage with their ray,
Feels Nature's love his throbbing heart employ,
Nor envies towns their artificial joy."

The features of the valley are very fairly described. Its early
history is then rapidly sketched; next its period of border strife,
at length happily allayed by the union of the kingdoms, under which
the Johnstones, Pasleys, and others, men of Eskdale, achieve honour
and fame. Nor did he forget to mention Armstrong, the author of the
'Art of Preserving Health,' son of the minister of Castleton, a few
miles east of Westerkirk; and Mickle, the translator of the 'Lusiad,'
whose father was minister of the parish of Langholm; both of whom
Telford took a natural pride in as native poets of Eskdale.

CHAPTER III.

TELFORD A WORKING MASON IN LONDON, AND FOREMAN OF MASONS AT PORTSMOUTH.

A common working man, whose sole property consisted in his mallet
and chisels, his leathern apron and his industry, might not seem to
amount to much in "the great world of London." But, as Telford
afterwards used to say, very much depends on whether the man has
got a head with brains in it of the right sort upon his shoulders.
In London, the weak man is simply a unit added to the vast floating
crowd, and may be driven hither and thither, if he do not sink
altogether; while the strong man will strike out, keep his head
above water, and make a course for himself, as Telford did.
There is indeed a wonderful impartiality about London. There the
capable person usually finds his place. When work of importance is
required, nobody cares to ask where the man who can do it best
comes from, or what he has been, but what he is, and what he can
do. Nor did it ever stand in Telford's way that his father had been
a poor shepherd in Eskdale, and that he himself had begun his
London career by working for weekly wages with a mallet and chisel.

After duly delivering up the horse, Telford proceeded to present a
letter with which he had been charged by his friend Miss Pasley on
leaving Langholm. It was addressed to her brother, Mr. John Pasley,
an eminent London merchant, brother also of Sir Thomas Pasley, and
uncle of the Malcolms. Miss Pasley requested his influence on
behalf of the young mason from Eskdale, the bearer of the letter.
Mr. Pasley received his countryman kindly, and furnished him with
letters of introduction to Sir William Chambers, the architect of
Somerset House, then in course of erection. It was the finest
architectural work in progress in the metropolis, and Telford,
desirous of improving himself by experience of the best kind,
wished to be employed upon it. He did not, indeed, need any
influence to obtain work there, for good hewers were in demand; but
our mason thought it well to make sure, and accordingly provided
himself beforehand with the letter of introduction to the architect.
He was employed immediately, and set to work among the hewers,
receiving the usual wages for his labour.

Mr. Pasley also furnished him with a letter to Mr. Robert Adam,*[1]
another distinguished architect of the time; and Telford seems to
have been much gratified by the civility which he receives from
him. Sir William Chambers he found haughty and reserved, probably
being too much occupied to bestow attention on the Somerset House
hewer, while he found Adam to be affable and communicative.
"Although I derived no direct advantage from either," Telford says,
"yet so powerful is manner, that the latter left the most
favourable impression; while the interviews with both convinced me
that my safest plan was to endeavour to advance, if by slower steps,
yet by independent conduct."

There was a good deal of fine hewer's work about Somerset House,
and from the first Telford aimed at taking the highest place as an
artist and tradesman in that line.*[2] Diligence, carefulness,
and observation will always carry a man onward and upward; and before
long we find that Telford had succeeded in advancing himself to the
rank of a first-class mason. Judging from his letters written about
this time to his friends in Eskdale, he seems to have been very
cheerful and happy; and his greatest pleasure was in calling up
recollections of his native valley. He was full of kind remembrances
for everybody. "How is Andrew, and Sandy, and Aleck, and Davie?"
he would say; and "remember me to all the folk of the nook."
He seems to have made a round of the persons from Eskdale in or about
London before he wrote, as his letters were full of messages from
them to their friends at home; for in those days postage was dear,
and as much as possible was necessarily packed within the compass
of a working man's letter. In one, written after more than a
year's absence, he said he envied the visit which a young surgeon
of his acquaintance was about to pay to the valley; "for the
meeting of long absent friends," he added, "is a pleasure to be
equalled by few other enjoyments here below."

He had now been more than a year in London, during which he had
acquired much practical information both in the useful and
ornamental branches of architecture. Was he to go on as a working
mason? or what was to be his next move? He had been quietly making
his observations upon his companions, and had come to the
conclusion that they very much wanted spirit, and, more than all,
forethought. He found very clever workmen about him with no idea
whatever beyond their week's wages. For these they would make every
effort: they would work hard, exert themselves to keep their
earnings up to the highest point, and very readily "strike" to
secure an advance; but as for making a provision for the next week,
or the next year, he thought them exceedingly thoughtless. On the
Monday mornings they began "clean;" and on Saturdays their week's
earnings were spent. Thus they lived from one week to another--
their limited notion of "the week" seeming to bound their existence.

Telford, on the other hand, looked upon the week as only one of the
storeys of a building; and upon the succession of weeks, running on
through years, he thought that the complete life structure should
be built up. He thus describes one of the best of his fellow-workmen
at that time--the only individual he had formed an intimacy with:
"He has been six years at Somerset House, and is esteemed the
finest workman in London, and consequently in England. He works
equally in stone and marble. He has excelled the professed carvers
in cutting Corinthian capitals and other ornaments about this
edifice, many of which will stand as a monument to his honour.
He understands drawing thoroughly, and the master he works under
looks on him as the principal support of his business. This man,
whose name is Mr. Hatton, may be half a dozen years older than
myself at most. He is honesty and good nature itself, and is
adored by both his master and fellow-workmen. Notwithstanding his
extraordinary skill and abilities, he has been working all this
time as a common journeyman, contented with a few shillings a week
more than the rest; but I believe your uneasy friend has kindled a
spark in his breast that he never felt before." *[3]

In fact, Telford had formed the intention of inducing this
admirable fellow to join him in commencing business as builders on
their own account. "There is nothing done in stone or marble," he
says, "that we cannot do in the completest manner." Mr. Robert Adam,
to whom the scheme was mentioned, promised his support, and said he
would do all in his power to recommend them. But the great
difficulty was money, which neither of them possessed; and Telford,
with grief, admitting that this was an "insuperable bar," went no
further with the scheme.

About this time Telford was consulted by Mr. Pulteney*[4]
respecting the alterations making in the mansion at Wester Hall,
and was often with him on this business. We find him also writing
down to Langholm for the prices of roofing, masonry, and timber-work,
with a view to preparing estimates for a friend who was building a
house in that neighbourhood. Although determined to reach the
highest excellence as a manual worker, it is clear that he was
already aspiring to be something more. Indeed, his steadiness,
perseverance, and general ability, pointed him out as one well
worthy of promotion.

How he achieved his next step we are not informed; but we find him,
in July, 1784, engaged in superintending the erection of a house,
after a design by Mr. Samuel Wyatt, intended for the residence of
the Commissioner (now occupied by the Port Admiral) at Portsmouth
Dockyard, together with a new chapel, and several buildings
connected with the Yard. Telford took care to keep his eyes open to
all the other works going forward in the neighbourhood, and he
states that he had frequent opportunities of observing the various
operations necessary in the foundation and construction of
graving-docks, wharf-walls, and such like, which were among the
principal occupations of his after-life.

The letters written by him from Portsmouth to his Eskdale
correspondents about this time were cheerful and hopeful, like
those he had sent from London. His principal grievance was that he
received so few from home, but he supposed that opportunities for
forwarding them by hand had not occurred, postage being so dear as
scarcely then to be thought of. To tempt them to correspondence he
sent copies of the poems which he still continued to compose in the
leisure of his evenings: one of these was a 'Poem on Portsdown Hill.'
As for himself, he was doing very well. The buildings were
advancing satisfactorily; but, "above all," said he, "my proceedings
are entirely approved by the Commissioners and officers here--
so much so that they would sooner go by my advice than my master's,
which is a dangerous point, being difficult to keep their good
graces as well as his. However, I will contrive to manage it"*[5]

The following is his own account of the manner in which he was
usually occupied during the winter months while at Portsmouth Dock:--
"I rise in the morning at 7 (February 1st), and will get up
earlier as the days lengthen until it come to 5 o'clock.
I immediately set to work to make out accounts, write on matters of
business, or draw, until breakfast, which is at 9. Then I go into
the Yard about 10, see that all are at their posts, and am ready to
advise about any matters that may require attention. This, and
going round the several works, occupies until about dinner-time,
which is at 2; and after that I again go round and attend to what
may be wanted. I draw till 5; then tea; and after that I write,
draw, or read until half after 9; then comes supper and bed. This
my ordinary round, unless when I dine or spend an evening with a
friend; but I do not make many friends, being very particular, nay,
nice to a degree. My business requires a great deal of writing and
drawing, and this work I always take care to keep under by
reserving my time for it, and being in advance of my work rather
than behind it. Then, as knowledge is my most ardent pursuit, a
thousand things occur which call for investigation which would
pass unnoticed by those who are content to trudge only in the
beaten path. I am not contented unless I can give a reason for
every particular method or practice which is pursued. Hence I am
now very deep in chemistry. The mode of making mortar in the best
way led me to inquire into the nature of lime. Having, in pursuit
of this inquiry, looked into some books on chemistry, I perceived
the field was boundless; but that to assign satisfactory reasons
for many mechanical processes required a general knowledge of that
science. I have therefore borrowed a MS. copy of Dr. Black's
Lectures. I have bought his 'Experiments on Magnesia and
Quicklime,' and also Fourcroy's Lectures, translated from the
French by one Mr. Elliot, of Edinburgh. And I am determined to
study the subject with unwearied attention until I attain some
accurate knowledge of chemistry, which is of no less use in the
practice of the arts than it is in that of medicine." He adds, that
he continues to receive the cordial approval of the Commissioners
for the manner in which he performs his duties, and says, "I take
care to be so far master of the business committed to me as that
none shall be able to eclipse me in that respect."*[6] At the same
time he states he is taking great delight in Freemasonry, and is
about to have a lodge-room at the George Inn fitted up after his
plans and under his direction. Nor does he forget to add that he
has his hair powdered every day, and puts on a clean shirt three
times a week.

The Eskdale mason was evidently getting on, as he deserved to do.
But he was not puffed up. To his Langholm friend he averred that
"he would rather have it said of him that he possessed one grain of
good nature or good sense than shine the finest puppet in
Christendom." "Let my mother know that I am well," he wrote to
Andrew Little, "and that I will print her a letter soon."*[7]
For it was a practice of this good son, down to the period of his
mother's death, no matter how much burdened he was with business,
to set apart occasional times for the careful penning of a letter
in printed characters, that she might the more easily be able to
decipher it with her old and dimmed eyes by her cottage fireside at
The Crooks. As a man's real disposition usually displays itself
most strikingly in small matters--like light, which gleams the
most brightly when seen through narrow chinks--it will probably
be admitted that this trait, trifling though it may appear, was
truly characteristic of the simple and affectionate nature of the
hero of our story.

The buildings at Portsmouth were finished by the end of 1786, when
Telford's duties there being at an end, and having no engagement
beyond the termination of the contract, he prepared to leave, and
began to look about him for other employment.

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