The Dawn of Innovation by Charles R. Morris Page B

first years of the century. 41
    Bentham, the younger brother of the utilitarian philosopher Jeremy, was a naval architect, an inventor, and something of an adventurer. He traveled to Russia as a young man to examine mining and engineering works, was a social hit at the Russian court, fell in love with a young noblewoman, and became the close friend of the Most Serene Prince Grigory
Alexandrovich Potemkin, himself a special favorite of Catherine the Great. Bentham created Western-style factories on Potemkin’s estate, built a fleet of warships, distinguished himself in Russia’s sea battles against the Turks, and may have been the first to use shells in naval artillery. On his return to England, his top-drawer connections helped secure him an appointment as inspector general of the navy. Among his many talents, he was an inventor with strong ideas about mechanizing the shipyards.
    Brunel, a native of France, was a royalist naval officer forced to flee the avenging angels of the French Revolution. Landing in America, he worked for a half-dozen years designing canals and harbor fortifications, building a cannon foundry, and serving as chief engineer of New York City. Brunel was also a machinery inventor who filed many patents over his lifetime. At dinner at Alexander Hamilton’s home, a guest held forth on Great Britain’s struggle to produce ship blocks—a problem that Brunel was convinced he knew how to solve. Not yet thirty, he embarked for London, the home of his fiancée, a well-connected young Englishwoman, whom he had courted during his flight from France. He duly married on his return and became one of London’s leading engineers, most famous for his pedestrian tunnel under the Thames at Rotherhite. (It took more than twenty years to complete and nearly brought him to ruin.)
    Ship blocks—the enclosed pulleys that managed the miles of rope on a warship—were made of solid blocks of wood, with slots, or mortises, for one to four sheaves, or rotating pulleys. The shells were cut from logs of elm, while the sheaves were made of imported lignum vitae, a very hard and durable wood. The sheaves turned on pins made of either lignum vitae or iron, encased in friction-reducing brass bushings, or coaks. Major warships needed somewhere between 1,000 and 1,400 ship blocks, ranging in size from single-sheaved blocks a few inches long to four-sheaved blocks standing nearly four feet high. Badly made blocks could snag rigging, slow maneuvers, and endanger a ship. A single family had enjoyed an effective monopoly over naval ship-block making for nearly fifty years. Their factories were partially mechanized, but Bentham thought them excessively expensive; he had himself developed designs for more efficient machine production.

    Brunel arrived in England with fairly complete drawings for four block-making machines and with a working model of at least one of them. He first met with the contractors, who had little interest in his plans, and then secured an appointment with Bentham. Before the meeting, he contracted for two more working models, fortuitously with Maudslay, who was only recently set up in his own shop. (A French acquaintance in London regularly strolled by Maudslay’s shop and told Brunel of the beauty of the display pieces in the window.) Brunel was worried about premature disclosure and at their first meeting refused to tell Maudslay the purpose of his designs. But at the second meeting, Maudslay said, “Ah! Now I see what you are thinking of; you want machinery for making blocks!” 42
    The Bentham-Brunel meeting, when it took place sometime in mid-1801, was a vendor’s dream. Bentham examined the drawings and the models, generously pronounced them superior to his own, and arranged an early demonstration before the naval board. A contract was awarded in 1802, and Brunel was appointed manager of a new works to be erected at Portsmouth. Maudslay began delivering machines before